The Pon T'Keshtan

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Nyota did not sleep well during the night and got up early the next morning in order to check on Spock before her duty shift. When she arrived in the Medical Bay, Christine, looking bright and crisp in her medical Whites, was already on duty. "You couldn't sleep either, huh?" Nyota asked.

"With everything going on aboard this ship, are you kidding? Like the old saying goes: if you rest, you rust."(1)

"We shouldn't have to worry. Neither of us can ever sit still long enough to rust."

"Isn't that the truth?" Christine chuckled, setting a hand to her hip. "But you're not here to chit-chat with me; you're here to see your Spock. He's right where you left him."

Your Spock, Nyota loved the way that sounded, and she smiled at Christine tiredly. "How is he doing?"

"Stable. His readings are remarkably good, everything considered, but he's still unconscious. Dr. McCoy can give you more details when he gets in. He's setting up in the conference room for the first ship-to-ship confab. Oh, he's in one of his moods, so... brace yourself."

"Did he get any rest last night?"

"I doubt it, but if you want to see a real over-achiever, check out Sa'aat. He hasn't budged from Spock's side in the last sixteen hours. I didn't think any being could hold the same position for that long." Christine sounded almost proud and in awe of him; which, for some reason, irked Nyota. She would have stayed at Spock's side if her duties had allowed it. Just because Sa'aat had the time to cling to Spock like a lamprey didn't mean he cared about Spock more than she did.

Nyota felt a pout coming on, but flattened it, setting her lips hard against one another. "Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Always on your side, honey," Christine promised. "I'm just saying Sa'aat is doing his best for Spock, and regardless of how he rubs your fur the wrong way, you need to give him an occasional thank you."

"You're just saying that because you like him."

"Mature," Christine scolded. "From what I heard, Sa'aat gave you credit yesterday for your strength and devotion. It wouldn't kill you to do the same."

"I can't snuggle up to him... I don't trust him. I don't like the way he hangs around Spock."

"Hon-ey. Do you love Spock?"

"What? Of course I do."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes, but -"

"Has he ever been unfaithful to you?"

"No."

"Then who gives a flying rat's asteroid if Sa'aat is dippy over him? What Sa'aat may or may not feel has no impact whatsoever on your relationship with Spock. So get over yourself, get in there, kiss your boyfriend, and when you have a minute, give Sa'aat the thanks he deserves." Christine smiled, softening the blow. "You know I'm right."

"Of course you're right."

"And it just kills you, doesn't it?"

"You have no idea -"

Christine laughed, patting Nyota's arm. "Good. Now, vamoose, before the captain starts calling here, asking me to track you down."

Nyota quietly entered the private suite. Sarek had, at some point, left to clean up and change his clothes. Seated on the lounge chair, he was now wearing a liver-colored Vulcan tunic over dress pants and polished, dark brown boots. The tunic's high collar rose almost to his earlobes, and the bell sleeves ended at the mid-point of his hands. Sa'aat, in the same clothes he had on the day before, however, was just as she had left him.

Still seated on what now must be an exceedingly uncomfortable little stool, Sa'aat, still connected to Spock through his fingertips, frowned forbiddingly. As far as Nyota could tell, Christine was right: he hadn't moved an iota. His skin looked drawn and arid, as though someone had let the air out of him, and the pronounced dark circles under his eyes made him look rather skeletal. Even though she wasn't a doctor, Nyota recognized the possible symptoms of dehydration. If she remembered her Vulcan physiology, they needed at least one liter of water, preferably more, every three days to maintain minimal hydration. As far as she knew, Sa'aat had last eaten three days ago when he had dinner with Spock.

Just as she made a mental note to have tea or plomik broth sent to the room, Gilgreni, smelling of soap and dressed in a clean, neat Vulcan steward-gray suit, entered, pushing a small cart bearing a tea set, a large urn of hot barkaya marak (2), three yeraks (3), and a small lamp with a flat, fat wick in its center. He maneuvered the cart into a corner, quietly arranged the tea set and urn, and then carried the lamp over to the small bedside table. He lit the wick with a pencil-like handheld laser.

The lamp, made from a single polished stone and carved with the Vulcan symbols for sukmakhau, psthan, and s'thaupi (4) was primitive. Its open-flame construction seemed incongruous with the modern fittings of the room, almost like Aladdin's lamp from the Arabian Nights, and Nyota half-expected a smoky djinn to appear from it. Its flame, guttering and leaning with even the smallest movement of the air, was tinged blue-green.

"It is called a yonet," Sarek quietly answered her unspoken question. "A meditation lamp. Spock does not have one?"

"He uses an asenoi and tho'san stone (5) when he has the time to set them up properly," Nyota said as Gilgreni leaned past her, handing a yerak of the creamy soup to Sarek. "Otherwise, he does breathing meditations."

Sarek accepted the bowl with both hands and a small bow. He held it to his lips, taking a sip. "Ohrom," he graciously complimented the server, as Vulcan etiquette prescribed.(6)

"It was fortunate the ship's galley had the required legumes in store." Gilgreni placed a second bowl beside the lamp where Sa'aat could retrieve it. "I did not have to replicate anything." He had brought a third bowl for himself, but offered it to Nyota instead.

She smiled, grateful for the gesture. "I've already had my breakfast," which wasn't true, but she didn't want Gilgreni to give up his meal. The pilot gave her an understanding nod and positioned himself near the cart, trying to be inconspicuous as he noiselessly sipped his soup.

"I am pleased to hear Spock still engages in regular meditative respites," Sarek said.

"He meditates almost every day, Ambassador; usually right after his shift ends. He's even tried to teach me a few techniques. Most of the time, I just end up going to my happy place, though."

"Happy place?" Gilgreni echoed.

"I imagine, in as much detail as possible, the place where I'm most comfortable and peaceful; a place where I feel safe and happy. Then I picture myself there, and try to reap the benefits of the relaxing environment."

"A visualization."

"Yes."

"I see. And what does this happy place seem t-" Sa'aat's deep breath and loud exhale interrupted him. The smell of the soup had apparently worked its way through Sa'aat's consciousness, bringing him back to the real world.

He slowly opened his eyes, but it took several minutes before he was able to focus again. He gazed down at Spock for a few seconds, and then lifted his eyes to Nyota.

She frowned slightly when she saw - projected through Sa'aat's obsidian eyes and the uncharacteristically soft set of his thin lips - what looked like Spock. There was an unguarded, fond recognition in his expression, a mix of sentimentality and desire, and she was uncomfortable observing those familiar things in this other man's features.

Sa'aat blinked, and then carefully lifted his fingertips from Spock's head, one at a time, detaching himself from Spock's mind, bit by bit. As their link faded, so did the amity in Sa'aat's expression; as his personal barriers lifted, his usual unresponsive façade returned. He let his arms drop to his sides with a quiet, un-Vulcan groan. He had been in the same position for more than half a day; his muscles ached and most of the circulation had gone from his hands. To reset the sinews, he bent at the waist, touching the floor with his fingertips, and gave his body a long cat-like stretch. He rose, flexed and curled his fingers a few times, and pulled his hair away from his face and shoulders before picking up the yerak Gilgreni had set beside the lamp.

Sarek waited until Sa'aat had finished most of his soup before asking, "How does he fair?"

Sa'aat swallowed, licked his lips, and then held the bowl out to Gilgreni, who hurried to refill it. "Better than I had anticipated after such a fall, Ambassador," Sa'aat said, but his voice seemed weightless, wraithlike, emaciated by exhaustion. "Your son's mind is... enigmatic. Replete with all the Vulcan intricacies, yes, but the Human element adds levels of convolution that are sometimes difficult to navigate. There is also his strength of Self with which to contend." Sa'aat's eyes drifted over to Nyota, "He does not release himself easily to others."

"He has always been thus," Sarek agreed, looking at Nyota and then back to Sa'aat. He knew they vied for his son's attention, but he could only guess how fiercely they might fight one another, or whether they could put aside their personal agendas to assist Spock. "I have always found his willful core to be one of his better qualities."

"It does seem to serve him in situations such as this," Sa'aat agreed. "A lesser man would have been killed by that storm." He finished his second helping of soup and handed the bowl to Gilgreni. "Tea, please."

Nyota stepped toward the cart. "Let me pour," she said, polite but determined.

Sarek's eyebrows rose at the offer, while Gilgreni looked vaguely put out even as he moved out of Nyota's way. Sa'aat expressed nothing, but he put a hand on the bed as if bracing himself for... he wasn't sure what.

Spock had conducted this less-formal mealtime tea service for her several times, and Nyota remembered everything: from placing the fingertips of the non-pouring hand over the top of the teapot, to pouring the tea in a measured pace for a full two...three... four... five... seven seconds, to turning the pot's handle toward the host when she was finished. A small, herb-scented cloud rose from the cup as she handed it to Sa'aat on her open palm. Nothing in his face indicated he was impressed or surprised by her performance; however, he did accept the tea. It would have been considered both a rejection of the beverage, and of her as a person, had he not.

"Making an effort." His tired voice was flat.

"Are you speaking about my effort with the tea - or your effort with me?"

Sa'aat was silent for a moment. "Both." He lifted the cup in a curt salute to her before drinking.

"Changed your opinion of me, have you?"

"No," Sa'aat said frankly, and Nyota bristled. "However, I now have a greater understanding of Spock's perspective on the matter. It is in consideration of this new frame of reference that I revise my previous holding."

"You mean you touched his mind, found out he actually has feelings for me, and you're now willing to accept that fact."

Sa'aat took a long sip, challenging and measuring Nyota with his eyes. He swallowed and stepped toward Sarek without responding.

Nyota stuffed down the irritation he managed to evoke - Ooo, that man! - and turned to Spock. Her thoughts and emotions softened immediately. He looked much as he had the night before, still in the medical gown, still fitted with an extra autonomic functions monitor; but his hair was tousled, and she wondered if he had tossed his head in his sleep. She raked his bangs smooth with her fingernails. His skin felt hot and dry, which was normal for him, and he was breathing evenly. His eyes were closed and unmoving. "Is he sleeping or comatose?"

"Both and neither," Sa'aat answered. "Do not wake him. He requires stillness."

"It wasn't my inten-" Nyota caught herself, and tempered her tone. "I won't wake him," she promised.

She carefully pealed the gown from Spock's shoulder to watch the tiny flashing monitor there before she tentatively slipped her hand under the material. She rubbed small circles into his skin lightly, bringing her fingers together periodically to feel the silk of his chest hair between them, and twirl it softly. Spock usually enjoyed this type of gentle, fondling foreplay; and she hoped somewhere inside his mind he could acknowledge and remember her touch. She leaned forward and whispered against his ear, "La'nash-veh, Spahk-kam,"(7) and then kissed his cheek, the stubble of his one-day-growth of beard pricking her lips.

Sa'aat stifled an un-Vulcan sigh; to him, her actions smacked of flagrant and unnecessary spectacle. He finished his tea, abruptly handing the cup to Gilgreni. He then tilted his head and jutted his chin toward Sarek - a display of strength and control, even though he was enervated - and said, "I must take leave to prepare for the Katau Fa'ark (8), Ambassador, with your permission."

"Of course, Sa'aat. Let Gilgreni know if there is anything you require."

Sa'aat glanced at Gilgreni who bowed to him, and let his eyes sweep past Nyota and Spock before leaving. As he went out the door, McCoy came in with Spock's medical chart in hand. He took one look at the people and food in the room and demanded, "What the hell is this? Get this food out of here!"

Nyota tried to explain, "Doctor, Sa'aat hadn't eaten, and..."

"That's what the mess hall is for. This is a hospital room, damn it, not the confounded Beaumont Inn!(9)" McCoy goggled at the lamp and hollered, "And put out that fire!"

Gilgreni made a noble, if not entirely successful attempt to disguise his repugnance toward the doctor's emotionalism and language, before gathering the trappings of the meal onto his cart, and blowing out the lamp, which he left on the bedside table. With a solemn nod to Sarek, and a pointed look over his shoulder at McCoy, he rolled the cart silently from the room.

"My God, McCoy," Nyota said under her breath. "You scared the crap out of me! Good thing your bark is worse than your bite."

McCoy's expression softened a little, just for her, as he grumbled, "Sorry, kiddo. No sleep and too many Vulcans make McCoy a very angry man."(10)

"Can I at least a few questions before I go?"

"Sure." He patted her arm in apology, then reached past her to tap one of the biobed's gauges to make sure it was displaying correctly. It was.

"It all looks better than it did last night," Nyota prompted, as Sarek watched the Humans in silence from his chair.

"Yeah. Physically, Spock seems fine," McCoy answered, "although his blood pressure is still a little elevated, and he'll probably have one helluva headache when he comes to."

"What about the bleeding in his eye and nose?"

"They're not serious; blown out blood vessels, likely due to stress and the inner exertion from his mind-storm. We cauterized the vessels in his nose, and his eye will heal by itself in a week or so."

"What about all this?" Nyota pointed to the tiny black splotches on the digital display of Spock's brain.

"Well, the Vulcan brain is set up differently from the Human brain, of course, but the blackouts seem to be confined pretty much to the area around the hypothalamus." McCoy tapped the monitor to activate a drop-down menu and selected two items with his fingertip. The monitor's overall display broke into quadrants showing the EEG, an image of the overall brain structure, a cut-away view of the brain with a portion lit in neon-green, and a different section of the cutaway shown in neon-yellow. The black sun-spot effect Nyota had pointed out was clustered along the edges of these two colored areas.

"These yellow and green structures make up the Vulcan limbic system," he explained. "The green is the Vulcan equivalent of our hippocampus. In Humans, the hippocampus is seahorse shaped - which is where the name came from - but in Vulcans, as you can see here, there are two seahorse-shaped structures linked together at the 'tail'. Over here, in this other display, these two small, yellow almond-shaped sections are the Vulcan equivalent of our amygdale. The amygdale and the hippocampus are involved with the creation and retention of memories and spatial recognition, and they connect directly with the hypothalamus to regulate survival behaviors, sleep, emotions, sexual activity and stuff like that. Spock's shriv t'kae seems to have burned through some connectors in those areas."

"So... what does that mean?" Nyota asked. "He might not remember anything? He might not be able to control his emotions? What are we dealing with exactly?"

"There's no way to tell what damage was done - if any damage was done - or to what degree until he regains consciousness and we can run some tests on him."

"So even if Sa'aat can bring him out of this…this inert state, Spock still isn't out of the woods."

"Exactly."

"You'll let me know if there's any change?"

"You bet."

"Thank you, Doctor." Nyota looked to Sarek. "Can I escort you anywhere, Ambassador?"

Sarek remained seated, crossed his arms over his chest, and slipped his hands into the bell sleeves of his tunic. Even to those who knew nothing about Vulcan body postures, his physical message was clear: He wasn't going anywhere.

McCoy leaned in toward Nyota and said into her ear, "You know, as Spock's medical proxy you get to decide who's on the visitors list and who isn't. You can demand the Sarek go, if you want to."

"I'll do no such thing." Nyota looked back to Sarek, whom she was sure had overheard every word of that short discussion. "Please, stay as long as you like, Ambassador. I'll come back during the lunch break later."

In his chair, Sarek steepled his fingers in front of him, closed his eyes, blocked out the Human noise around him, and soundlessly transmitted healing energy to his son.

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Sa'aat's long-legged stride took him well away from the Medical Bay in short order, but he was directionless, with no specific destination in mind. Distancing himself from Lieutenant Uhura was his only imperative.

"Plokh! Duh'es!"(11)

He stopped, standing with his hand against the bulkhead for a moment. He pulled the hand away almost immediately, however, when thoughts and conversation from the room behind the wall started infiltrating his mind. His personal barriers were worn thin; he needed time to rebuild them before he dared to guide Spock through the Katau Fa'ark. And, he would admit to himself but to no one else, he needed time to put distance between himself and the sullen acerbity The Woman provoked in him.

He had been in Spock's mind, of Spock's mind, and The Woman had been - was - prominent there. Nyota Uhura. K'diwa. Even with his mind in disarray, she occupied Spock on some level at every moment. There was not a breath he took that did not echo with her name; no visual memory or imagining that he did not compare to her. His mind sought to shield her even as parts of it died and sealed themselves off; and even as Sa'aat fought to anchor him, in their joined minds Spock's hands reached out, not to him, but to her...

Standing in the corridor with his eyes closed, Sa'aat slowly breathed self-governance back into his mind and body.

In his rational mind, Sa'aat had known all along that Spock was tah (12); that he would never reciprocate Sa'aat's attraction and affection for him. They were t'ka vishizhau, wi t'ka vishizhau fam (13); powerful, vital males with distinctly different preferences. Nevertheless, when Sa'aat had encountered Spock on New Vulcan he had allowed himself the luxuries of vanity and fatuity and self-deception. Humans were not as long-lived as Vulcans, he had told himself, and so even if Spock bonded with The Woman and spent a lifetime with her, she would fade, grey and die... and Sa'aat would still be there. He had told himself he could - - he would - wait for Spock. When she was gone he would be there for Spock, and Spock would fold himself into him, and they would be as t'hy'la, even beyond death. That was fantasy, of course. Istau-bosh Nash-tor-ik.(14) He knew better. "Plokh," Sa'aat muttered, neither happy nor sad, simply stating a fact.

He started walking again.

By the time he reached a turbolift and the door whisked open to receive him, he was himself once more: moderated, focused, in control. "Shuttle Bay," he said to the elevator.

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The morning's medical confab started on time, even though the frigates dispatched by Starfleet were still en route and hadn't yet rendezvoused with the Enterprise. From the bridge, Nyota coordinated the ship-to-ship broadcast and real-time communications links, making the conferences viewable to anyone aboard the ship who wanted to see or participate in them. Even as she ran general scans for other transmissions in the vicinity, and facilitated the routing of the routine reports and com-link messaging, she kept a communication's bud in one ear to listen in on the discussion herself.

In Medical Conference Room One, all of the Enterprise's off-duty medical personnel had been invited to sit in with Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel as they viewed the day's presentations on the large com-link monitor, and for most of the morning, there was standing-room-only. Nurses and techs sat in chairs or on stools, stood against the walls, and even clustered around the door to get a first-hand view of the proceedings. When Captain Kirk joined them, he had to squeeze through the crowd to stand behind McCoy's chair. Nurse Chapel offered him her seat, but he waved her off with a grateful smile.

The image on the main viewer was broken into segments showing the main speaker in the center, and the participants from the other ships in small images all around the speaker. Kirk got his first look at the Ionians aboard the Oc'c and the Denobulans aboard the Greezai. He had met a Denobulan at the Academy – an offspring of the extended family of Dr. Phlox, a medical officer who had served aboard the Enterprise NX-01 in the mid twenty-second century - but he had never seen Ionians before. They were tall creatures with thin, pipe-like bodies and tiny waists making them look like living hourglasses; their almond-shaped eyes shone sea-green on the top of their elongated faces. When they spoke, it was like listening to a fire: all crackles and odd pops with opaque exhalations.

Dr. Aiionwatha Deerfoot from the Martin James hosted the first seminar. Kirk had never met her, but McCoy had sung the woman's praises when he found out she was going to be a part of this educational process. She was slightly older than McCoy, and had been at the top of her own graduating class at the Medical Academy. She was a skilled and much sought-after physician who specialized in crush injury syndrome, and cardiothoracic and trauma surgery.(15)

Solid, with a slightly rounded face, high cheekbones and pitch-dark eyes, Dr. Deerfoot could trace her lineage to the ancient Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy(16) on Earth, and she looked the part - although modernized, of course. She sported a mohawk, her head shaved bare except for the brush-like ruff of black hair running down the center of her scalp from her forehead to the base of her skull. In a more non-traditional display, she also had a tattoo that dipped down from the outer edge of her right eye to the center of her cheek: two black-tipped white feathers decorated down the shaft with red and black dots that looked like bands of tiny beads. There was some kind of iridescence worked into the red "beads," which glistened whenever Dr. Deerfoot moved her head. The effect would have been distracting if she had not held such a personal presence or had been a less engaging speaker.

Most of the information disseminated through this particular seminar was probably old hat to the more seasoned medical personnel, but Kirk had never had an in-depth education on Vulcan physiology, and he was grateful to learn a few things about Spock's people he didn't know. Dr. Deerfoot's initial lecture was conventional, giving everyone an overview of Vulcan general anatomy; the ranges of normalcy in body temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, respiration; Vulcan blood types; diseases specific to Vulcans and such. She presented complex information conversationally, finding a comfortable balance between the elementary and the sophisticated. The medical practitioners were kept interested, while the use of medical jargon and convoluted terminology didn't overwhelm the lay spectators.

When it came time for the presentation on Vulcan sexuality and the rituals of Pon Farr, Kirk was relieved to find that everyone comported themselves in a professional manner. There were no sniggers or whispered jokes; instead, everyone became quieter, more focused, and some moved to the edge of their chairs. It wasn't often lectures on this particular subject were provided, and it seemed as though everyone in attendance wanted to take full advantage of the opportunity. As the lecture progressed, hands went up throughout the listening groups on the different ships, and Deerfoot was diligent, answering every question as fully as she could.

"So Vulcans only have sex once every seven years?" a non-medical staffer on the Merton asked.

"No. That's a common misconception, though. Vulcans can engage in sex whenever they want to, but during the Pon Farr they have to mate."

"And where does the plak-tau fit into the males' Pon Farr?" someone else asked.

"The Pon Farr itself progresses in stages. First, there's a release of the Vulcan-specific hormone yamareen (17), which triggers the Pon Farr effect. The effect lasts for about eight days, and if the male cannot find a mate or otherwise deal with the hormonal imbalance in his body - through extreme physical exertion or deep meditation, neither of which are very often successful, by the way - before the eight days is up, the imbalance will kill him. In the first few days, the male becomes irritable and aggressive, but is still able to think clearly and make decisions. Toward the end of the eight-day period, however, the blood fever starts - the plak-tau - and when the male is in that state he cannot think clearly and often requires others to make decisions for him. At the height of the plak-tau, the male is sexually charged and violently aggressive. The cognitive part of his brain shuts off, and he runs on instinct and adrenalin. He'll generally mate with whatever female is presented to him, and will attempt to kill any other male who enters the mating space..."

"And the drug given to the males on New Vulcan, put them directly into that height of the plak-tau state - "

"Yes."

A hand went up among those gathered in the small lecture room on the Oc'c. A young female Ionian asked in a smoky voice, "It was our understanding that for Vulcans, the seven-year Pon Farr cycle was associated with the seven-year rhythms of radioactive releases from the Vulcan sun. Now that their homeworld is gone, and they are no longer under the influence of that star, what impact will that have on their naturally occurring Pon Farr cycles?"

"That's something we don't know yet," Deerfoot admitted. "The survivors have been away from their homeworld for a little under two years, so, we don't have any long-term data to go on. As far as we know - although keep in mind Vulcans are reticent to talk about such things - no one on New Vulcan has gone through a natural Pon Farr. However, we do have anecdotal evidence suggesting that Vulcans away from their homeworld for extended periods experienced delayed Pon Farr cycles. It may be possible - and this is just speculation - that as the colony settles and develops on their new world, Pon Farr may disappear from their physiology entirely."

Another hand went up, this time from a male nurse aboard the Laurant Despins. "Going back to the drug that was used on New Vulcan... What do we know about it?"

"Not as much as we'd like to know. Apparently, the newly formed Transitional Council is having some difficulties finding all the background data on the original formula. They have, however, assured us that it will be tracked down, and we'll get samples of the serum as soon as we reach planetside."

"What about the accusations the Vulcans engaged in bad science?" someone from the Merton asked. Other voices from the other ships echoed that concern.

"They're just that: accusations. We haven't had a chance to look at the science they used yet, so we can't even begin to make a determination on whether it was 'bad' or not."

"But," someone from the Martin James chimed in, "all these women were subjected to males under the influence of the plak-tau inducing drug... and now they're suffering. Are you telling me there's no correlation between the drug and their symptoms?"

"I'm saying we don't know what the correlation is yet; or even if there is one."

Some of the spectators were not satisfied with that response, and irritated grumblings filled sections of many of the conference rooms connected by the monitor. Angry noise and conversations that slipped off topic rose like a wave, and the discussions deteriorated into untempered remarks accusing the Vulcans of miscalculations and blatant mismanagement, of endangering their already endangered race with atrociously muddied science, and of subjecting their population to wild experimentation.

"I get the irritation," Kirk said loudly from behind McCoy's chair, and the noise from the other ships lessened as the participants quieted and focused on him. "Believe me, I understand your outrage and frustration. As you know, my First Officer, my friend, Mr. Spock, was subjected to the demands of the edict, and he's now suffering as a result of what he was put through, so... I get it. I'm pissed off, too. There's probably no one among you who wants to reach out and slap the Vulcans upside the head harder than I do over the Ek'tevan Prerogative. However... the great thing about working with Mr. Spock is that... I get to learn from him; and one of the things he's taught me is temperance." General laughter filled the rooms, and Kirk grinned with self-deprecating humor. "Yeah, I know. It's hard to believe. I'm not exactly the temperate type. And even though Spock teaches me temperance every day, I'll be the first to admit I'm not always the best student - and Spock would probably second that." More laughter.

"But," Kirk's smile slowly faded, "I saw him go through the aftermath of the edict, and I can tell you... it was one of the bravest things I've ever seen. And to see him struggling now, is... well, it's not easy, on him or on any of us who care about him."

On the bridge, Nyota's eyes filled with tears.

"In the face of all of this, I've never heard Spock complain about what happened to him, blame anyone or judge anyone. In one of our more private conversations, he reminded me that not even Vulcans can know the unknown, and sometimes you can do everything you're supposed to do - prepare for every contingency you can imagine, double-check and triple-check your data - and still fail.(18) And it's from failure that learning comes.

"I think we all need to keep in mind we're not here to criticize or condemn the previous Transitional Council for doing what they did. They and their people will come to terms with that in their own time, and in their own way. What happened happened, and now we have to learn from it. Browbeating the Vulcans over the edict at this point is counterproductive; our sniping won't change anything. Our mission is to assist New Vulcan in the care of the plak-tau women and see that their children are born safely. That's what we're here to do. That's what we need to focus on."

There were a few seconds of silence before light applause filtered through the rooms. From the center of the monitor, Dr. Deerfoot nodded and looked grateful for Kirk's input. "Thank you, Captain Kirk," she said, and then added to the group, "Remember, too, everyone: Vulcans are touch-telepaths. If you go down there sulking and cantankerous, they're going to pick it up the minute you put your hands on them. I daresay they've got enough stress to cope with right now; we don't need to be adding to it. So, let's try to stay positive and proactive."

As the discussions turned to an overview on Vulcan pregnancies, McCoy reached behind him and gave Kirk a pat on the arm. "Thanks for the reframe, Jim," he said.

The captain shrugged. "You would have said it if I hadn't butted in."

"Actually, I was with the sulky, cantankerous kids for a minute there, so, thanks."

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When a ninety-minute lunch hour was called before the next presentation - and Kirk smirked a little, knowing how Spock would have reacted to the absurdity of calling a ninety-minute break an "hour" - he, McCoy and Nurse Chapel headed to the Medical Bay to check on Spock, and found Nyota was already there. Spock was in the same condition she'd left him in earlier: unmoving, unresponsive, caught between sleep and unconsciousness, but stable.

"How did you get here so fast?" Kirk asked her, amazed.

"Time travel," Nyota quipped.

"I thought you were coordinating all of the communications links."

"I was, and then I turned my station over to De'Vrille while I went on break."

"Where are Sarek and Sa'aat?" McCoy asked her.

"Sarek took a break for some meditation when I came in, and I'm not sure, but I think Sa'aat is with the Haulat -"

"Are you hungry, honey?" Christine gave Nyota's shoulders a sisterly squeeze. "I can bring you something from the galley." Dr. McCoy threw his Head Nurse a caustic look that she acknowledged with a glance, but otherwise ignored.

"Something Vulcan, in case Spock wakes up." Nyota said. "What?" she asked, catching the other's questioning looks. "I'm being 'positive and proactive'."

Christine grinned and left the room. McCoy was right behind her. "Food? You're bringing her food?" he carped.

"Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"I kicked the Vulcans out earlier because they brought food and fire into the suite... I'm trying to run a hospital here, damn it, not a bed and breakfast."

"Oh, quit whining. I'll bring you something, too."

"Well..." McCoy said, folding his arms across his chest. "That's different, then."

Christine smiled and shook her head. "Honestly, Doctor, how did your wife ever put up with you?"

"She didn't. That's why I'm here."

In Spock's room, Nyota looked across the bed at Kirk. "I loved what you said during the conference... I've been so caught up in how I feel about Spock, that I neglected to consider what you're going through. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. Your relationship with him is more, well, complicated than mine." The captain looked over Spock's prone body. "I rely on him to be the stable one, you know. He's like my gravity; he keeps me grounded. When he's like this, I... I sometimes feel I could go hurtling into space at any second."

"I know. I feel the same way. It's kind of scary, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." After a few beats, Kirk asked, "Sa'aat is supposed to conduct some kind of ritual, the Klaatu Fart, or something, right?" He mispronounced it on purpose, hoping to get Uhura to laugh a little, and she did. She knew humor was the way he dealt with the difficult situations, and she appreciated the moment of levity, no matter how brief or manufactured.

"The Katau Fa'ark," she corrected him with a wry twist of her lips. "And, yes. Sa'aat is hoping to be able to complete it later today. He wants me to be available when he's ready... "

"Permission granted," Kirk said before she had the chance to ask.

"Thank you, Captain."

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Mr. Scott and Dr. McCoy presented the brief after-lunch seminar. Theirs was a refresher course on the transport, operation and general maintenance of mobile biobeds. Their seminar also included how to adjust the readings to Vulcan standards and how to encrypt personal information to maintain patient confidentiality while allowing for the accumulation of empirical statistical data on the plak-tau females. Some of the medical staffers' eyes glazed over during the more technical parts of the presentation, but McCoy kept them involved with hands-on demonstrations - and the stern warning that slackers would find themselves relegated to sanitation duty when they reached the planet.

The second part of the presentation was more interesting for the participants, since it revolved around the antigravity gizmo McCoy had constructed for S'Risha. Anti-gravs had never been used for such a purpose before, and everyone seemed fascinated and pleased with McCoy's ingenuity. Some engineers from the other ships actually walked up as close to their monitors as they could to get a better view of the device, and asked for schematics. They then started chattering in techno-speak about how to make the unit smaller, how the gravimetric field could be adjusted to personalize it for each wearer, and how it might be used in other medical applications. As the discussions continued, Scotty coined the acronym "MAGGIe" (19) for the device and the name stuck. By the end of the session, engineers on every ship eagerly rushed to work up improved versions of the Maggie to present to McCoy and Scotty the next day.

As he left the conference room hours later, McCoy couldn't wipe the proud grin from his face.

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Sa'aat had been aware when, during the lunch break, Sarek had entered the Shuttle Bay and found the Haulat floating just a fraction above the floor, gently bobbing, its skin smooth, without a blemish. He had sensed when Sarek put his hand on the Haulat's skin and let his mind reach into the ship's interior in search of Sa'aat. Although, Sa'aat had felt the touch just as the Haulat had felt it, he had remained so disconnected from his consciousness that Sarek couldn't find him.

This complete mental severance from the waking world wasn't unusual for an Adept. In the monasteries, practitioners often spent the majority of their lives in this state of self-induced isolation and disengagement; which was why Sa'aat had left the Ip-sut Monastery (20). Although he had learned well the ways of the Adepts, and had honed his mind to such a fine edge it could cut through barriers and obfuscation like a razor, sitting still for days, weeks, months, detaching himself forever from reality, was not in his nature. He couldn't live like a mollusk, bound to one spot while life and energy and sustenance swept past him. Sa'aat was a kinetic creature; he had to move in order to survive, and so he took up the nomadic life of a roving assassin, only briefly checking in at the Hurgh Ghor Guild to gather his assignments before moving on again.

He had actually once considered following Spock into Starfleet, joining the crew of an exploratory vessel in a scientific capacity. That was an impossible choice, however, since another part of Sa'aat's nature defied conformity and refused subjugation. Spock was much the same - it was the "willful core" Sarek admired - but Spock also had an inner maturity and flexibility Sa'aat lacked. Spock could take orders, allow others to lead, slip into whatever role was presented to him without complaint or reservation, and comport himself admirably. Sa'aat did not possess this ability. He questioned everything: authority, individuals, rituals, the gods. He took nothing at face value, which is why he spent his life investigating, probing, disproving myths, exposing truths and finding the hidden. And he didn't take orders. He could cooperate when cooperation served his purpose; he could be civil; he could be orderly. He was a Vulcan, after all. However, he refused to allow others to dictate to him.

His aversion to commands was something Semuk had never recognized, but of which T'Pau had always been suspicious. Although she had once said to him, "You follow orders. You recognize the chain of command. You are selective in your engagements with a perceived enemy. All are the hallmarks of a good soldier…" he knew she wasn't speaking the truth; in her mind she never trusted him. Her ability to lie effectively was what made her such a powerful leader and challenging foe. Even though she convinced herself every lie she told was true to some degree, in order to never be openly accused of betraying the Vulcan principle of honesty, Sa'aat recognized her for what she was. Whenever he dealt with her, he was reminded of the ancient Vulcan fable of "T'sai eh K'karee"(21), and was careful never to allow her too close, or become too involved in her self-serving plots and deceptions.

Yet, even as he practiced his mental arts, fought to clarify and reveal the hidden, and refused to roost, the one undeniable constant in his life, the only person he would ever allow to control him in any way was Spock. Spock - who possessed his thoughts. Spock - who filled his body with longing and fire. Spock - who held his heart and kept him linked to this quadrant of the galaxy.

"Spock," Sa'aat said aloud. Pulling himself out of his meditation, he lifted himself from the floor, and then reached his arms above his head high enough to touch the ceiling. The stretch helped him to relax his muscles and to make more contact with the Haulat. He would need access to the ship's energy stores if he were to survive what was to come.

After cleaning and redressing himself, Sa'aat projected his mind throughout his ship. "Haulat, hoknau-tor heh katau-tor ha-kel Spahk i'pon ish-veh."(22) In response, the outer skin of the Haulat sizzled briefly with yellow-green electric and psionic static.

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Nyota rolled a stool to the side of Spock's bed and took his hand with her left hand. When their fingertips touched, she felt the tickle of his mind against her skin like a faint pulse or a flutter of breath.

The room was dark, even the biobed monitor was off, and the only light came from the guttering flame of the small meditation lamp on the bedside table. Sarek stood, silent, engrossed in meditation, but no one else was there except Sa'aat, who sat on a stool similar to hers on the other side of the bed. He was dressed in expressionless gray, his hair loose, spilling down his back and shoulders like ink, the reflected flame from the lamp glittering along the bottom of his dark eyes. He took Spock's free hand into his right hand, and then reached across Spock's body with his left.

Nyota looked at the offered hand, but didn't take it. "Tell me again, what we're going to do."

"We are going in tandem into Spock's mind," Sa'aat explained. "You will be the beacon he will follow through the darkness; I will be the hand holding open the door. You will lead him the door, so that he may pass through it, and together we will bring him out of himself."

Nyota nodded even though she wasn't entirely sure to what she was agreeing.

"When the contact initiates, you may feel disoriented. Do not fight against the flow of thoughts and impressions. Release yourself and go where they carry you. The currents will eventually take you to Spock. When you find him, you must engage him enough that he follows you. He may be resistant, at first, or unable to focus on you. You must be persistent."

"Once I have him, how will I know which way is out?"

"I will guide you."

Nyota swallowed. "Tell me truthfully, Sa'aat, have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it will work?"

"I do not know it will. However, I have faith in my ability and in Spock's tenacity of spirit. You must believe also, for if the two of you drift, I may not have the strength to anchor you both."

Nyota thought for a moment longer. She studied Spock's flame-lit face, squeezed his hand in hers, before looking at Sa'aat again. "Okay. But... No matter what happens, I want you to save him. Do whatever you have to do. Understand?"

"By any means necessary," Sa'aat replied. "Are you ready?"

"No... But let's go anyway." Nyota reached out to Sa'aat and took his hand.

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(1) "If you rest, you rust.": This quote is actually one attributed to the American actress, Helen Hayes, (October 10, 1900 – March 17, 1993). She was called "The First Lady of the American Theater".

(2) Barkaya marak: a Vulcan soup akin in flavor to "cream of spinach" made of peanut-like legumes native to the Vulcan homeworld.

(3) Yerak: a Vulcan word for "bowl"

(4) Sukmakhau, psthan and s'thaupi: "sukmakhau" is the Vulcan word for "magnification"; "psthan" is the Vulcan word for "quest" or "search" or "hunt" ; and "s'thaupi" is the Vulcan word for the "beyond state" achieved through meditation. Author's Note: Vulcan symbols presented in triads (threes) like this, is not uncommon, and does have its basis in Trek canon. One site, The Star Trek Prop, Costume and Auction Blog, suggested that the three symbols used for Vulcan meditation (and worn by Adepts on their robes) were "rata" (concept), "tafar" (discipline) and "tapan" (process). I'm not accepting this interpretation, however, mostly because I can't find anything that supports the contention that the words rata, tafar and tapan even exist in the Vulcan language; and because the writer of the article on the blog site admits that the interpretation proffered ISN'T canon. My research showed that there is no Vulcan word for concept (the closest is "tangu" which means "ideal"), and that the Vulcan words for discipline and process are "nahr" and "torek". I will, however, accept the fact that three repeating symbols, whatever their verbal interpretation may be, DO appear throughout Trek canon on Vulcan clothing, including the robes Spock wore in "Star Trek: The Motion Picture", and his burial robe in "Star Trek: The Search for Spock". Since my triad of symbols appears on the lamp (and not on clothing), however, I'm sticking with sukmakhau, psthan and s'thaupi. (And, yes, researching this stuff is almost as fun as writing it into my stories!)

(5) Asenoi and tho'san stone: an "asenoi" is Vulcan fire pot, used as a focal point during meditation, and the tho'san stone is a polished stone the person sits on in front of the fire pot during meditation.

(6) Ohrom: this is the Vulcan word for "excellent". Author's Note: And for those of you who may be freaking out because Sarek isn't using a spoon [I love you guys!], keep in mind that he's NOT touching the food here with his hands; the bowl is being used as the utensil.

(7) La'nash-veh Spahk-kam: Translated from the Vulcan this means, "I am here, Spock." The addition of the suffix "-kam" at the end of a name is an indication of familiarity and affection.

(8) Katau Fa'ark: A Vulcan mystical ritual during which an Adept brings a closed off mind out of its recession and into open consciousness again; literally translated from the Vulcan "katau fa'ark" means "bring forward". Author's Note: this is NOT Trek canon; I made this up myself. I imagined the Katau Fa'ark as being the opposite of a Fulara; bringing all thoughts and feelings to the forefront of the mind and dealing with them, rather than forcing them down and suppressing them.

(9) Beaumont Inn: an historic bed and breakfast in the Bluegrass region of Harrodsburg, Kentucky. It was established in 1919 and is still in operation today. Author's Note: I wanted to choose a historic location that McCoy, being a "country doctor from Kentucky", might know and the Beaumont seemed to fit the bill.

(10) No sleep and too many Vulcans...: This is a play on the line "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" which Stephen King used in his novel "The Shining" to demonstrate how crazy his character Jack Torrance was becoming.

(11) Plohk! Duh'es!: from the Vulcan this translates as "Delusion! Foolishness!"

(12) Tah: the Vulcan word for "unattainable"

(13) T'ka vishizhau, wi t'ka vishizhau fam: from the Vulcan this translates as "of the same cast, yet not of the same cast".

(14) Istau-bosh Nash-tor-ik: Vulcan for "wishful thinking"

(15) Deerfoot: in my back-story for this character I wrote that Deerfoot had earned her Commander's pips overseeing the triage and surgical units dispatched by the Federation after a major crisis on Diaxis Four. Overseen by a fledgling group of Federation terra-formers, the D-4 colony, as it was called, was located in a system of underground bunkers that kept the colonists safe from the hostile surface environment during the planetary reclamation process. When seismic activity on the planet caused the structural collapse of the majority of the bunkers, Deerfoot was one of the first responders. Most of the fifty-five victims suffered from crush injury syndrome, and it was Deerfoot's cool-headedness and expertise that saved the lives of all of but two of them. (The planet, colony, and accident were all, of course, of my own creations, and are NOT part of Trek canon.)

(16) Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy: The confederacy was originally founded by the Iroquois (Haudenosaunee) in the 16th century under the leadership of The Great Peacemaker (Deganawide) and Hiawatha, and expanded through the 18th century to comprise six major Native American tribes (the Mohawk, Seneca, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Tuscarora) along with over fifty "sachem" (paramount chiefs). It was a political and diplomatic body that preached and maintained peace between the tribes. Author's Notes: Dr. Deerfoot's first name, Aiionwatha, is a derivative of "Hiawatha". Some authors and Trek fans see parallels between Deganawide and Surak and their philosophies of peace.

(17) Yamareen: this is the hormone released in the Vulcan males that initiates the Pon Farr, according to the Memory Beta site.

(18) The line "Not even Vulcans can know the unknown," was actually spoken by Spock in the TOS episode, "Immunity syndrome". Author's note: the reference to failure was also a sort of off-handed acknowledgement of the fact that in the 2009 "Star Trek" movie the Vulcan scientists did everything they could to save Romulus, but their data about the super nova proved faulty and Romulus was destroyed anyway.

(19) MAGGIe is short for the McCoy Anti-Gravity Gestational Intercessor. ("Maggie" sounded like something Scotty would come up with.)

(20) Ip-sut: "ip-sut" is the Vulcan word for "hidden". In my previous story, "The Ek'tevan Prerogative", Sa'aat revealed that he had retreated to the Ip-sut Monastery after resigning as Spock's Osavensular T'Guv. At the monastery, Sa'aat became an Adept and learned the ways of the K'a'sum'i.

(21) T'sai eh K'karee (The Lady and the Snake): There are various version of this fable on Earth, but they all go something like this: a woman finds a poisonous viper battered, frozen, and dying on the ground. Being kind hearted, she picks the snake up and puts it inside of her coat to keep it warm, feeds it, and nurtures it back to health. Although the snake, wrapped around her body, seems to reciprocate by protecting her from bandits and rapists (who see the snake and run off), when it is finally feeling healthy and secure again, the viper raises its head, bites her in the breast, and injects her full of its poison. As she's dying, the woman asks for an explanation. She had nurtured the snake, and fed it, and kept it warm with her body. Why did it attack her? The snake replies simply, "You knew what I was when you picked me up." Author's Note: There is no Vulcan fable of "T'sai eh K'karee" in Trek canon; I made it up.

(22) Haulat, hoknau-tor heh katau-tor ha-kel Spahk i'pon ish-veh: translated from the Vulcan this means, "Haulat, it is time to gather Spock and bring him home." (Or more literally, " Haulat, to gather, and to bring home Spock now time it is.")