The Pon T'Keshtan

CHAPTER SEVEN

Spock, returning to his quarters at shift's end, encountered Nyota in the corridor. Truthfully, he had tracked her through the ship and placed himself where he was likely to meet her. The chosen corridor had the advantages of being one of the least-traveled ones in the main part of the ship, and as the shift-change was nearly complete, traffic would be even more sparse. It afforded Spock the opportunity to engage Nyota outside of their personal quarters, while still providing them with a modicum of privacy. He knew she had participated in a long, private meeting in Medical Conference Room One. That those who knew him best had met without his participation needled the part of him that seemed perpetually on-edge of late; yet, he admitted, the meeting might have had nothing to do with him. Considering recent events, his suspicions may have been a mild manifestation of self-delusion or paranoia. He wanted to talk with Nyota to gain some clarification about the subject. When he saw her, however, his concern was only for her.

Nyota looked tired and drained, however: her face pinched into a frown and her posture sagged. She ignored crewmembers passing her. It was unlike her to be so withdrawn, and Spock became more concerned about her than whatever may or may not have taken place at the meeting. Nevertheless, she smiled the full-faced smile she gave to Spock and Spock alone when she saw him. "Hey, you," she said. "How did your day go?"

"Productive," Spock said, approaching her. He put his palm against her cheek, and said frankly, "You look fatigued."

Nyota sighed. Despite his Vulcan strength, Spock's touch could be exquisitely tender; his fingers like the brush of a dove's wing against her cheek. "You have no idea. It's been a long day. And, please, don't remind me that the ship's day is twenty-four hours and point-zero-zero-four-five seconds."

"Twenty-four hours and point-zero-zero-four-three seconds," Spock corrected softly.

Nyota chuckled at the joke and kissed the heel of his hand. "I said, don't remind me."

Spock's hand drifted from her face to her neck and shoulder, and he drew closer to her to offer, as much as he could, his physical support. To support her more emotional nature, he also proffered his right index and middle finger.

The gesture, "the ozh'esta,"(1) was less than a kiss but more than a handshake in Vulcan culture and one of the few public displays of affection permitted by Vulcan society. Spock seldom used it with her, often opting for Human displays such as holding hands or openly kissing her. Considering his overall mental state, however, his use of the ozh'esta did not surprise nor offend Nyota. If that was as much contact as Spock could tolerate at the moment, she would oblige him. She placed her fingers against his. Vulcan fingertips were highly sensitized and, with permission, offered a personal, discreet avenue to their minds and emotional structure. Spock wasn't offering access, however, only the touch. For Nyota, it was enough. At least he wasn't isolating himself from her; he was still reaching out to her, she consoled herself.

"Your shift has ended, k'diwa," Spock said. "Why are you not retiring?"

"I am, sort of. Um, I'm actually on my way to the Medical Bay," Nyota answered.

It occurred to him the meeting may have revolved around her, and his eyes flooded with concern. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine," Nyota responded, reading the worry in his large, dark Human eyes. "Well, actually, I'm sort of headachy, and exhausted, and generally... icky."

Spock scowled imperceptibly at the term. "Ich (2) is a disease exclusive to tropical fish, is it not?"

"That's i-c-h," Nyota answered with another light chuckle. "I was referring to the very Human condition known as i-c-k-y. It isn't a medical textbook reference, but it's an accurate description of my present state. Anyway, Christine said she had something Andorian that would help me unwind."

"A Spleneth Aperitif(3)," Spock intuited. "In small doses it is a very effective sedative with few, if any, side effects."

"Sounds like just what I need."

"Then perhaps you should take it," Spock encouraged.

Nyota smiled at him. Even with what he was going through, he was worried about her. She felt both blessed and somehow unworthy. Why should concerns for me cloud his mind when he has so much else to deal with? I need to be careful not to pile my own baggage on top of everything else he's already carrying, she thought.

Spock pressed his fingers firmly against hers, then, looking down; he stroked the back of her hand. "If you are feeling fatigued, perhaps..." He met her eyes again. "Are you of a permitting disposition?" he asked, his eyes barely squinted. It was a habit; whenever he asked something especially significant to him his eyes would narrow just a bit, as though he was trying to see the answer before it was verbalized.

"What did you have in mind?" Nyota asked.

"I would like to beg a personal kindness." His formality and courtliness was always endearing. Nyota tenderly put her hands to his face. His hands dropped to her waist and he tipped his head forward until their foreheads touched.

Déjà vu. He had done the same when he had gone off with Captain Kirk to confront Nero. The mission had been fraught with hazards, and Nyota had feared he wouldn't return. In response to her unspoken dread, he had leaned into her and reassured her with, "I will be back." (4)

In the corridor now, their noses brushed against one another. As usual, Spock's skin felt like a fever against hers. Nyota held her breath for a moment, hoping Spock couldn't feel the anguish she had carried around since the meeting and her chat with Sa'aat. Her brain felt like it had taken in too much information, too quickly, and was on the verge of overheating. Nevertheless, she said, "You can ask me anything you want to, Spock."

He blinked, his eyelashes brushing her skin, and said quietly, "Since we are scheduled to spend most of tomorrow together on shore leave, and since you are in need of rest this evening, I was wondering if perhaps -"

" - If we could spend the night apart," Nyota finished for him.

"Yes. Is that acceptable?"

"Oh, Spock, of course it is. I need a drink and a long nap. And you need some alone-time... to meditate, to rest, to catch up with Sa'aat…"

Spock caught something in her voice that was not favorable at the mention of Sa'aat's name. "Is Sa'aat an issue?" he asked. "I had planned on meeting with him later this evening."

Still cradling his face between her hands, Nyota leaned back a little so she could meet his eyes again. "He wants to be an issue, but mostly he's just kind of... I don't know, a pain in the ass." Spock's eyebrows knit slightly; he didn't like the use of crass vernacular (5). "Sorry," Nyota said. "You know me; I always have to watch my mouth when I'm tired."

"That seems to be true of many Humans," Spock agreed.

"Sa'aat and I..." She sighed again. "Our personalities don't jibe. I know he's your friend, that he was your teacher, but... "

"If he has been particularly unpleasant, I will speak to him."

"No, that's not necessary. I don't want him - or you - to think I'm a crybaby-whiny-Human complaining about him. No. I can manage him."

An eyebrow arched. "Really? Then you would be the first." Nyota chuckled again, dropping her hands to Spock's chest. He could be so wonderfully unintentionally funny at times.

"I know Sa'aat can be quite intimidating," Spock continued, his voice gentle. "But he is an honorable man, and his intentions are sound."

"I don't doubt that; you're a good judge of character. And I know he cares for you."

"Yes, he does, but... sometimes in such a way as to make reciprocation impossible."

"What do you mean?"

"He is sa-ka-ashausu(6)," Spock said. In the face of Nyota's shocked expression, he added, "I assumed you knew this; it is not a secret. Humans sometimes feel the need to be furtive about sexual preference, but Vulcans do not."

"Oh my God," Nyota said her mouth still gaping in surprise. "Well, that helps put things into perspective. Thank you." She thought a moment longer, and then giggled against Spock's shoulder. "Oh, my God!" she repeated. "Earlier this afternoon I told him if there was any way he could show you support or fondness, he should do it. Wow. I was being more generous than I realized. Like handing him the keys to the house while I was on vacation."

Spock looked puzzled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing," Nyota shook her head. "I just realized what Sa'aat's problem is. He sees me as a rival for your affection. That's why he's always so terse with me."

"Sa'aat is terse with everyone," Spock said. "And the sort of rivalry you describe is a Human condition born of envy or jealousy or covetousness. Sa'aat would not act on the impetus of such emotion."

"I'm not too sure about that," Nyota said.

"If my being with him makes you uncomfortable, I will not see him this evening."

"Oh, no," Nyota said. "Don't change your plans. He's an old friend, a guy, another Vulcan, someone you can talk to. Your relationship with him preceded any contact between us. I understand that, Spock. Besides, he may be able to offer you conversation, ideas, distractions and support that I can't. No, you should see him..."

"I will speak to him about our relationship; make the boundaries more clear to him."

"That's not necessary either. But - " Nyota gave Spock a rather conspiratorial look. "If you'll give me permission to knock him back into line occasionally, I think we'll be fine."

"Very well, then," Spock said, conveying, as much as Vulcan sensibilities allowed, a quiet humor. "You have my permission to 'knock him back' as you see fit." Then more seriously, he added, "Bear in mind, however, that Sa'aat has the tendency to meet force with equal or greater force. I would not want the two of you coming to figurative or literal blows."

"Don't worry. We won't kill each other. It's okay." Nyota stood on her tiptoes, pecking his lips to seal their agreement. Spock's eyes closed upon contact, and for a moment, she thought he might part his lips and let her in, but he turned his face away, placing his cheek against her lips instead. Nyota's emotions welled up again, and she fought a growing tightness in her throat that made her want to cough and cry at the same time. "Spock."

"My apologies..." Spock said, and the unexpected, wretched confusion in his voice made her want to clutch him and caress him. However, she didn't know if embracing him would harm or help him. She hated feeling so... inert, so demoralized, so inadequate. In her silence, Spock continued, "Please, do not feel my reticence with you is in any way an indication that I regret our involvement, or I that wish to cleave myself from you. I do not. I -" He wasn't sure how to finish the sentence, and fell back into his native tongue as a last resort. "Nam-tor t'nash-veh fam.(7)"

"Spock. You don't have to say anything. You don't have to give me reasons or explanations. We understand one another," she said.

Spock's eyes went soft with the ardor his other features concealed. "Nemaiyo(8)," he answered.

Nyota smiled and gently patted the center of Spock's chest twice. It was an affectionate gesture his mother had used when he was younger; one he cherished now she was gone. "Thank you, for setting time aside for us to have some shore leave together tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it so much. I'll see you in the morning," she said. "All right?"

"Ha, k'diwa (9)," Spock uttered, taking Nyota's hands in his own, kissing her fingers.

Two uniformed ensigns came down the corridor toward them. Spock didn't look at them but Nyota turned to see who they were. No one she knew on sight. She looked back at Spock and said affectionately, "Good evening, Commander Spock."

Spock tilted his head acknowledging her feigned formality, which, he understood, was a little jest to lighten the mood. "Good evening, Lieutenant," he replied with echoing professionalism.

"Pick me up at my quarters tomorrow around oh-eight-thirty?"

"Precisely... Have you decided what you would like to do during our leave; where you would like to go?"

"Not really. I thought we'd just wing it."

Spock pursed his lips. Winging it was not his preferred method of operation.

"It'll be fun." Nyota assured him. "You'll see. Trust me." Nyota gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, before she headed down the corridor, passing the ensigns on her way to the Medical Bay. She gave them a little bob of her head, more like herself again.

She was already gone when Spock realized he had neglected to ask about the meeting.

"She loves you, you know," Sybok said.

"Yes," Spock said without looking at his half-brother. He put the final touches on the small table in the main room of his quarters, which he had set up for an informal meal for three. Plates, flutes of sparkling jade-water, long-forks, freshly brewed theris-masu, not the replicated kind, an elaborate tea set, and oblong bowls filled with kap, yarmok and pla-savas(10). Since the destruction of Vulcan, it was exceedingly difficult to come by real Vulcan foodstuffs, but the ship's galley had a store on hand for him, and Nyota always seemed able to ferret some out in the oddest shops on stopovers at star bases. There was also a plate of large Earth strawberries dipped in chocolate laced with Bhut Jolokia (11) pepper sauce; one of Spock's favorite treats. He looked over the setting, found it acceptable, and went to change his clothes in the adjoining bedroom.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Sybok called to him.

"Do?" Spock answered, returning to the main room. He had shed his Science Blues, but retained the rest of his uniform: black t-shirt, black pants, black boots.

"Yes, do, Little Brother..." Sybok answered him. He plopped down at the table and reached for a strawberry. Spock caught his sleeve to prohibit his hand from touching the fruit.

"Not with your hands," Spock said.

"Come now, you're not still abiding by that old tradition, are you?(12) Besides, when among Humans do as the Humans do. They eat with their hands all the time, don't they? Consider for a moment where they put those hands and their mouths, and then talk to me of cleanliness, hmm?"

"You will not speak of them thus," Spock said with a level tone that was more instructional than punitive. "Several of these Humans are my friends."

"And more than friends, eh, Spock? We were talking about Nyota," Sybok said, extricating his sleeve from Spock's grasp, no longer attempting to touch the food.

"Please refer to her as Lieutenant Uhura," Spock instructed.

"Why?"

Spock opened the lid on the teapot, then lifted the pot from the table with both hands and took a light whiff of its contents. He added a few more herbs to the tea as he said, "Because that is what she prefers from people she does not know well, or with whom she wishes to maintain a professional distance." He set the teapot back down onto the table to steep a while longer.

"All right, then... What are you going to do about Lieutenant Uhura? Will you make her your bondmate?"

"We have not yet made that decision," Spock said.

"But you're thinking about it - "

"It has crossed my mind - and hers, yes."

"You read her?"

"Yes. When she permits it."

"Well, that's an involvement that can be more intimate than the joining of bodies, Spock. I'm glad you're not entirely celibate. I always worried about you, you know. You're always so formal, so conventional about sex, so... chaste."

"Chaste? That is not a word I would use to describe myself, Sybok."

"No? Please, Spock, you think performing the ozh'esta with someone is tantamount to intercourse. Of course you're chaste! It's part of your charm. It's why the females all line up around you. They're attracted to your veil. Will he or won't he? You're very mysterious to them."

"Nonsense," Spock said. "And when did you become an expert in female sexual attraction? Are you married? Do you have any prospects?"

"Oh, no," Sybok said, wagging a finger in Spock's direction. "You're not deflecting the focus of the conversation onto me, Spock. Others may let you get away with that, but I never have, and you well know it. We've always been frank with each other; no disinformation, no obfuscation. It's part of what I like about you. Now, we are talking about you and your pretty Lieutenant. Do you love her?"

"Yes, of course, I do," Spock conceded.

"Why so indecisive, then? Why not marry her?"

Spock tugged down the front of his shirt, "It is not so much a matter of indecision, Sybok, as it is a matter of complexity."

"Complexity," Sybok echoed.

"Yes. We have our careers in Star Fleet to consider. Marriage may complicate such things as duties, assignments to vessels and away missions, promotions, continuing education, the chain of command. Single entities may progress where married couples may not. I always have to be careful not to imply or act upon favoritism as it is. Marriage would make that more difficult."

"So... you're not marrying her because it may cause a minor inconvenience in how you interact with her in Star Fleet?"

"I am saying the prospect of marriage should not be taken lightly. There are many components which must be considered."

"In addition to the trifling impact it may have on your career, what else is there to consider?"

"Our life spans, the species variance... among other things."

"Life spans? You mean because you'll most likely outlive her.(13)"

"Yes - "

"And you're worried she'll die before you, and you'll be left alone."

"It is something that must be considered, yes."

"Spock, she'll age and die whether you marry her or not. Delaying means you'll spend even less time together as mates; marry her sooner and you'll have more time to be intimate together. What is it the Humans say? It's the quality, not the quantity?"

"Perhaps - "

"And species..." Sybok snorted. "You're already a half-breed, Spock, how much more complicated can it get than that?"

Spock bristled at the word half-breed, but kept himself in check. "I meant, that should we marry and be fruitful, bearing a hybrid child may be difficult for her," he explained. "And, as we are both acutely aware, Father has always wished that I take a Vulcan as my bondmate."

"Yes, but he chose a Human for himself, so why should he object to your doing the same?" Sybok reminded him.

"He does not openly object to Nyota, he simply would prefer that I take a Vulcan wife... especially in the aftermath of the destruction of our homeworld. There are so few Vulcans left..."

"The Ek'tevan Prerogative addressed that, didn't it?"

Spock cringed. "May we not speak of that - "

"Refusing to address or acknowledge that which makes us uncomfortable... That's the Vulcan way, isn't it, Spock?" Sybok said with a sigh. "Take me as an example. I wholly embrace and display my emotions and for that I'm labeled V'tosh ka'tur (14). It's easier not to talk about me than it is to deal with my heretical views, so I am ignored by our father, shunned by Vulcan society, and banished from our world. Yet, I exist. I occupy space, I move through time, I have matter, I breathe, I live... Ignoring me doesn't make me disappear. Ignoring me doesn't make me any less real. Ignoring me doesn't mean you will never have to deal with me."

"I can deal with you," Spock said. "It is the edict which gives me pause."

"Then, since I have successfully diverted the conversation back onto that subject - for which I applaud myself, by the way - let's talk about the edict."

"I would rather not."

"I know, which is why you should talk about it. Allocating energy to ignoring the issue is an unproductive and illogical waste, Spock. Address it and be done with it."

"It is not that elementary a task."

"Now who's speaking nonsense? When a child makes a spectacle of itself, the reaction in Vulcan society is to ignore it so as not to bring attention to its loathsome behavior. But I say, spank the loathsome child to stop its noise, then speak with it to ascertain its needs and give it a model for future behavior, so you don't have to deal with its noise ever again."

"You would strike a child for misbehaving?" Spock asked, looking shocked by the idea.

"I was speaking metaphorically, Spock." Spock took the lid off the teapot again. "You did that already," Sybok reminded him.

"It must be tended to or it will turn bitter," Spock said.

"Are you talking about the tea or yourself?" Spock gave his half-brother a level stare and Sybok continued, "Quit trying to change the subject. The Prerogative: give me your thoughts."

Spock's features hardened as he strained to disguise his visceral response to the mention of the edict's name. He replaced the lid on the teapot, then sat opposite from Sybok, placing his folded hands in his lap. After a moment, he said, "The edict was an abomination."

"Did it not address the extinction of our race?"

"Yes, but in its enactment, it was a violation in every sense of the word."

"The Council did not believe so."

"They were misguided."

"How so?"

"There were other ways to achieve their ends, less dramatic, less intrusive, safer ways. They could have asked for the cooperation of the people rather than inflicting an edict upon them that stripped them of their liberty and their dignity... Mere phrases printed on a page stole from me my rights as a citizen, my choice of a mate, my options of whether or not and when to father children, my power over my own body, the control of my mind, my will. It was all looted from me within seconds, Sybok."

"The people didn't complain... none except you, that is."

"I know... And, truly, I do not understand why that was so. Surely others saw how injudicious and unreasonable the edict was, how illogical it was, how evil it would become."

"Others? Are you speaking for the entire Vulcan population, or just some individuals of your acquaintance?"

"Both. All."

"Sa'aat and our father - "

"Yes. They explained their reasoning to me, why they complied with the edict, but still...(15)" Spock paused for a moment, then asked. "Were you called upon to adhere to it?"

"A vrekasht(16) like me?" Sybok chuckled. "They won't even let me on the planet."

"Then you have no point of reference when I tell you that, when faced with the edict, I became... an appliance... for the State, a stock animal to be bred, a thing without a voice, without reason, forced to betray my promises and commitment to Nyota with females I had never met before. I do not understand why others did not pose objections to it as did I. It was barbaric, atrocious. The ugliness and evil of it still taint my mind."

"Your nightmares and hallucinations."

"Yes. I cannot escape it. It follows me everywhere, even into sleep."

"Then perhaps you should go to battle against it. Face it down, dispatch it."

"I do not feel capable. My mind is a snarl of half-feelings, and fragments of thought, and unformed images... "

"You are more than capable, Spock," Sybok assured him. "You are one of the most skilled and sagacious men I know. Was it not you who flew the Jellyfish into the heart of the Narada?"(17)

"You give me too much praise."

"You give yourself too little. When you put your mind and will to a thing, nothing can best you, Spock. Even as a child, no one, not even our father, could break your iron resolve."

"How can I put my mind to a thing I cannot clearly see? There are only phantoms for which I have no definition, no understanding." Spock shook his head, and after a pause muttered in a low voice, "I do not even know their names, Sybok."

"Whose names?"

"The females to whom I was bred. I do not know who they are, their familial ties, if they were willing participants - or forced as I was. How can I put my mind to the task of addressing them when I do not know who they are, or what I did, or...?"

"The question of their identities can be easily rectified, Spock. They don't need to remain anonymous to you."

"But how can I seek their identities without appearing to neglect my obligation to Nyota? If I honor one female, I neglect another. The situation is impossible."

"You suggest you must give wholly to one or the other. You have the capacity within yourself to address and tend to more than a single individual at a time. The situation is not impossible; your standards for performance are."

"My standard for performance has always been the pursuit of the ideal."

"The ideal? Spock. Perfection is only an aspiration, not a scientific instrument which one measures oneself against only to find oneself forever wanting. You are too hard on yourself," Sybok said, his face full of compassion. "The ideal is a goal we can never fully achieve, because our natures are flawed and imperfect. We must allow ourselves, on occasion, the luxury of admitting our limitations, even if it's only to ourselves. Further, nothing is entirely right or wrong. Every light casts a shadow, and every shadow springs forth from a light. Things aren't wholly black or white; there are always areas of gray, sometimes infinitesimal but always there. It's alright, Spock, to sometimes live and act in that gray space."

"Gray areas are imprecise. Gray areas are variable. Gray areas are unacceptable," Spock said.

"Your intransigence is what's unacceptable. Is your Lieutenant Uhura so stubborn? Or does she allow herself to live moment to moment, embracing the black, the white and the gray in her life equally and openly?"

"She is Human. Humans are more adaptable to - "

"Are you suggesting a Human can achieve what a Vulcan cannot?"

"I am saying Human nature allows for more relational flexibility than does being a Vulcan."

"Then your Uhura should be able to understand your curiosity about the plak-tau females, and accommodate your desire to pursue their identities, without being angry with you or jealous of them."

"Perhaps," Spock capitulated quietly. "How will she respond if these other females are now ripe with the children of my blood, children for whom I did not plan and never asked to father?"

"Ah, yes," Sybok said. "The children of the Prerogative are an issue on their own, aren't they?"

"They are to be the Taluhk Tan(18), gifts to our new world, but... How can I care for them, be a father to them, when they arose from such humiliation? And yet, how can I reject them? The circumstances of their conception were not their fault... My other self told me to do what feels right... What do I do when nothing feels right? When everything feels like a struggle, a trap, a pit? I am being pulled in different directions, like a man strung up between horses, Sybok, each one dragging me toward an opposite end. I feel as though I am being ripped apart..." Spock put a hand to his face, in part to soothe his aching head and, in part to hide the raw emotion that sought to fill his features. Unshed tears began to burn in his eyes.

Sybok rose and stepped around the table. He wrapped his arms around Spock's shoulders and held him tightly, then put his mouth to the top of Spock's head and spoke into his hair. "If it is truly too much for you, Little Brother, share your pain with me," he said, his voice full of empathy and heart. "Release it, and gain strength from the sharing."(19)

For a moment, Spock leaned against Sybok, holding his half-brother's arms against his body with both hands for support. After that moment was spent, however, Spock drew in a deep breath, moderated his feelings, and shrugged off Sybok's embrace. "Do not," he said in a voice low and ragged.

Sybok squatted down next to Spock's chair so he could meet Spock's eyes, and said with sincerity, "I can take your pain from you, Little Brother; all the wicked memories, all the debilitating sensations, all of your doubts and concerns. I can purge you of these things, and you need not be afflicted by them again."

"My mind will be made clear - "

"The chaos would end."

Spock closed his eyes. "No, Sybok."

"Why not? Why torture yourself, Little Brother? Why live this way? Why not let me help you?"

"Because," Spock said, opening his eyes, looking at his half-brother, "I wish... to remain a camel."

Sybok blinked. "What?" he asked, his face displaying vivid puzzlement.

"Something Dr. Surrey said," Spock explained, regaining his composure.

"Your head-doctor encouraged you to be a dromedary? Sounds like a novel approach," Sybok said, his smile returning.

"He is a most intriguing individual."

"High praise, coming from you. You usually find doctors tedious."

Spock raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

The door chime pinged, and Sybok rose to his feet. "It is Sa'aat," he said.

"Is clairvoyance now part of your heretical repertoire?" Spock asked. He meant it in jest and Sybok took it as such.

Sybok put a hand to his forehead, closed his eyes, and pretended to "read" the person who had activated the chime. "He is a tall man… rather lethal-looking... He has the most unprofessional interest in you, and... He loathes strawberries," Sybok said. He grinned and dropped his hand. "You know, Sa'aat will not acknowledge me. He will shun me as the others do."

"Nevertheless, you will be civil to him," Spock said, walking to the door.

"I'm always civil, Little Brother," Sybok replied, bowing dramatically for emphasis.

"Behave yourself."

The door opened revealing Sa'aat on the other side.

Nyota and Nurse Chapel were in Exam Room 4 sitting on the padded examination table. They had gone into the room to have some privacy for a few minutes.

"You should have seen him, Christine... He was so anguished over how I looked when we met in the corridor that I wanted to kick myself for not sprucing up a bit or putting on a better mask before he saw me. He has enough to worry about; I don't want him to have to worry about me, too."

Christine handed Nyota a small, slim phial filled with pale blue liquid. "Drink it in one gulp; otherwise it leaves a really weird taste in your mouth - like raw snails or something."

"Ech!" Nyota accepted the phial, not sure she actually wanted to down its contents.

"It's the best thing for that melted-brain syndrome you've got going; trust me," Christine prompted.

Nyota tipped her head back and poured the aperitif into her mouth. She swallowed as quickly as she could, squeezing her eyes shut as the alcohol burned its way down her gullet. "I'm sort of glad we're sleeping separately tonight," she croaked over the smoldering sensation in her throat. "As much as I miss him, I don't want him to be up all night feeling he has to cater to me or fuss over me." She handed the phial back to Christine. "That stuff's awful."

"Give it a minute. You'll really get to like it."

"Are you a drug pusher, a bar tender, or a nurse?" Nyota asked with a half-smile.

"A little bit of everything," Christine admitted with a grin. "Actually, I was a bartender when I was at the Academy. I stupidly tried to pay for my education on my own, and got the job as soon as I got to San Francisco. After about three semesters, though, I relented and got some scholarships and grants instead."

"Where did you tend bar?"

"Hijacks, off of Doyle and Lyon, right near the old Exploritorium(20)."

"I know that place! It's such a dive. I loved it!" Nyota pitched forward a little bit on the exam table as the aperitif started to work its chemical magic. "Whoa."

Christine steadied her. "That's just the first wave. It gets better."

"So, you keep saying…" Nyota's face screwed up into a tight scowl. "You know, Christine," she said, "when I saw those women lined up on the projection screen I wanted to scream. I mean, I know they were doing their duty for their race and all that, but still... It takes a certain, unhealthy mindset to jump a man who's out of his mind, and have sex with him..."

"Didn't you tell me they were under T'Pau's spell, or something?"

"Some kind of mind-thrall, yes, but... When they marched to that surgical arena, I don't think they were under it yet. They knew what they were heading for; they knew what kind of condition Spock was going to be in. What did they think they were dressed for, in those skimpy shifts, a lecture on thermodynamics? As our captain is so fond of saying: bullshit."

"Ooo, foul language. The Spleneth is starting to kick in now. You'll get really gabby next."

Nyota didn't seem to hear her, and continued, "Not that I wouldn't want to have Spock's babies myself, mind you. I would. I do. Sometimes I ache for it. Sometimes when I'm with him, my uterus practically reaches out of my body toward him. But I don't want to push him or make him feel obligated. No babies until we're both ready..."

"You've talked about having kids?"

"Yeah. Sort of. Indirectly. Sometimes. I want about a million of 'em, but Vulcans don't go for big families. Well, at least they didn't before the edict was enacted. Before, it was considered vulgar to have a lot of kids. Two children were sometimes tolerated, but more than that… Pifft! Unheard of. Then the edict was passed, and males were compelled to take on a lot of females, and now New Vulcan is going to be up to its armpits in kids... And now there are all these women who might be walking around with Spock's babies in their bellies, and… How I deal with that? How does he deal with that?"

"We don't even know if any of them are pregnant yet, do we?" Christine reminded her.

"No, but..."

"And even when everyone's fertile, it doesn't always 'take' the first time. He only had sex with them once."

"That's not what all you doctors and nurses told us in our 'Sexual Guidance' course at the Academy. And that plak-tau drug might have cinched things... Do we even know what was in that crap? ...Here we are, being careful; me getting my shots every month so there aren't any surprises... and then that bitch, T'Pau, comes along and sics her she-zombies on Spock, and everything gets loused up... And poor Spock. My intellectually dazzling, endearing, beautiful, chivalrous Spock. He's trying to do the right thing by everyone, but he doesn't even know who everyone is, or what the right thing would be. He doesn't even know the half of it. He's going to be soooo ruined when we tell him what happened. How are we going to tell him, Christine?"

"We'll... be honest with him."

"He's going to feel as though we're ganging up on him if there's another big conference meeting... he'll be soooo embarrassed... We have to make sure he's got an 'out', some way to leave the room or be private for a while after he's told; otherwise... otherwise..." Nyota rocked on the exam table, and blinked slowly several times. "Wow!" she said, and a grin spread slowly across her face.

"Is the euphoria kicking in now?" Christine asked with a smile.

"God, yeah - " Nyota chuckled. "Whoa-oh-oh, this is great!"

"Okay, come with me." Christine helped Nyota off the exam table. "We've got to get you to your quarters. Enjoy this part while you can. The next phase is deep sleep."

Christine took Nyota's wrist and led her from the Medical Bay toward her quarters.

In Spock's quarters, Sa'aat refrained from acknowledging Sybok's existence, just a Sybok said he would. Spock did nothing to rebuke his teacher, however. Vulcan society considered Sybok an outcast; shunning him was an acceptable response from any Vulcan who encountered him, and no complaint could be broached in good manners. Still, Spock was somewhat irked when Sa'aat sat in the chair Sybok stood behind, quietly waiting for Spock to join him at the table. Sybok shrugged, relenting, and took the third chair for himself, sitting between Spock and Sa'aat.

When it came time to pour the tea, Sa'aat did the honors, serving Spock first, then filling Sybok's cup before filling his own. He set the pot back down, the handle facing Spock; an appropriate gesture of veneration to the host. Throughout the light meal there were some pleasantries exchanged, to which Sybok made little quips meant to annoy Sa'aat, and which Sa'aat ignored with his normal icy calm. Occasionally, Sa'aat looked toward Sybok's chair but refused to engage him conversation. At one point, however, he set a strawberry on Sybok's plate, and said to Spock, "- For unexpected company."

"That was gracious," Spock replied.

"Gracious? Khracoi'a t'nash-veh(21)," Sybok mumbled. When Spock gave him a pointed look, Sybok raised his hands in surrender. "My mouth, I know. Forgive me, Little Brother."

Later Spock escorted them on a short tour of the ship. Sa'aat had seen it most of it before, but it was all new to Sybok and he walked through the Enterprise with his eyes wide, grinning and remarking about how "wonderful!" this was or how "unexpected" something else was. Spock made a point of stopping at the Horticultural Department.

After the destruction of Vulcan, he had taken the seeds from several Vulcan fruits stored in the ship's galley and working with on-ship botanists started a small garden of trees native to his homeworld. They were still tiny, struggling things lining a wall in the back of the department's main laboratory, but he was proud of them. Gravity belts simulating Vulcan's increased gravimetric pull encircle the pots, and lights provided the plants with both the brilliance and heat they required. It wasn't Vulcan, but it was as close an approximation as Spock could devise. The hardiest was a sash-savas(22), a rugged specimen that looked like a cross between a cactus and a dwarf orange tree. It was too young to bear fruit, but it was currently in blossom. Long, barbed thorns protected the large flowers, which were vivid yellow at the tips and pale green in center, and had a sharp, bright smell that filled the room. On Vulcan, the scent traveled for miles, drawing mathras and staroks (23) to facilitate pollination. On the Enterprise, Spock explained, he did all of the pollination by hand, using long cotton swabs to transfer the pollen from one flower to the next. The activity, he admitted, allowed him extra time for meditation and introspection and was therefore something of a curative for him.

"You are becoming quite the pomologist, Spock," Sa'aat said. "These are very impressive."

"Thank you. It is my hope to be able to present them to New Vulcan when they are mature," Spock said.

Sa'aat gave him a sideway glance. "You see yourself returning there?"

"I hope to... someday. Yes," Spock said, however, his tone made Sa'aat question whether Spock was trying to convince himself.

"Perhaps your someday will be sooner than you expect," Sa'aat said. Spock cocked his head questioningly. "Your father has been invited to return to negotiate for a seat on the new Council. I've heard that the current Ministers are holding several seats open; one for the Fonn Vuhlkansu, one for the Shakhu(24), and one for the Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas(25), thus far. Other Sects are also vying for a voice, so more seats may be added in the near future."

"Maybe the V'tosh Ka'tur should apply," Sybok said in jest, but Spock took him seriously.

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Spock said.

"I thought you might like that," Sa'aat said. "And to that end, Sarek is expected to arrive on the Enterprise shortly. It is my understanding he will stay and travel with you until the Ministers are ready to hear him."

"It is interesting my father did not inform me of this," Spock said, and some unintentional pique showed itself in his voice.

"Since I arrived first, the task to inform you was given to me. It would have been redundant for both Sarek and I to supply you with the same information."

Spock took a few steps away from Sa'aat, and then turned back to him, his posture projecting an unspoken challenge. "It seems curious that my father's unscheduled arrival comes so closely on the heels of your meeting in Medical Conference Room One," he said.

When Sa'aat did not immediately answer, Sybok stepped in close to Spock and said, "He's hiding something, Little Brother."

"You were in attendance, were you not?" Spock asked Sa'aat.

"Yes. I participated in a meeting earlier this day," Sa'aat admitted. "I was unaware you were privy to it."

"I am the First Officer of this vessel, Sa'aat," Spock reminded him. "When the Captain, Chief Medical Officer, Chief Psychiatric Officer, Head Nurse, and Chief Communications Officer all vanish at the same time, it is my duty to ascertain their whereabouts."

Sa'aat took a countering but not quite defensive physical stance, and said, "Very well. What would you have me say in response to that, Spock?"

"Tell me the subject of the meeting," Spock said.

"It was about you and your recent... behavior."

"Why was I not invited to attend?"

"Since I did not summon the meeting, I cannot speak directly to the reasons why you - "

"Do not feign ignorance, Sa'aat," Spock interrupted bluntly.

"I feign nothing. Should you require a factual response to your query, you must seek out those who initiated the conference," Sa'aat answered coolly.

"What decisions were made as a result of the meeting?" Spock asked.

"We came to no definitive conclusions. The end result seemed to be that we would wait for your father's arrival before proceeding further, and at that time initiate a subsequent meeting to which you would be compelled to attend."

Spock clenched his fists, his features rigid with the force it took to control the anger welling up inside of him.

Sybok said, "This is why I let my feelings out, Little Brother. The control is debilitating. It wreaks havoc on your body and - "

"I will not let loose my anger," Spock said between tight teeth. "I control my emotions; they do not control me." He turned away from both Sybok and Sa'aat and retreated a few steps to another part of the room. After a few deep breaths, he turned back saying, "So, Father is coming... When will he arrive?" His voice constrained, calmer, less accusatory, but his fists were still tight.

"In approximately fifty-two hours," Sa'aat answered, his posture softening a bit in the face of Spock's attempt at moderation.

"Is it... Is it safe for him to return to New Vulcan?" Spock asked.

"As safe as it ever was for him," said Sa'aat. "But I will be with him."

"As his body guard - "

"As his attendant and confidant."

"Is this your new line of employment, Sa'aat?"

"No. Simply a... junket, a diversion until other more profitable employment opportunities present themselves. But I am always at the disposal of the House of Sarek - and his family." Sa'aat bowed slightly.

"I wonder if that includes me?" Sybok said.

Sa'aat ignored him.

Most of the hardness in Spock's features relaxed, his fists unclenched, and he looked at the floor for a moment. When his eyes returned to Sa'aat, he was more himself, composed and somewhat contrite. "My apologies," he said. "As was, no doubt, discussed at your meeting, I have not been entirely myself lately."

"Yes," Sa'aat said.

"Shall we continue with the tour, then?"

"That would be satisfactory," Sa'aat extended his hand, indicating that Spock should lead on.

After Sa'aat and Sybok had left him to retire, Spock found it difficult to enter a restive state. He removed the dinner assemblage, and prepared his bed for sleep but did not get into it. After pacing for several minutes, he attempted some simple meditation, but found he could not quiet his mind. Playing the ka'athyra (26) also gained him nothing, so he set it aside, and left his quarters.

He stood before Dr. Surrey's office door and pressed the chime, but got no response. He pressed the chime again. Still no answer. "Computer," Spock said aloud. "Tell me the location of Dr. Andrew Surrey."

The ship's automated response system replied in its computerized female voice. "Dr. Surrey is located in the aft Observation Deck."

The aft Observation Deck, a large space with a vaulted ceiling located in the rear of ship along the upper portion of the Shuttle Bay, was often used to host gatherings for dignitaries, celebrations, ceremonies, seminars and other meetings. One could look out of the large portal windows on one side of the room and see the Shuttle Bay; and from the other side, one could look out and see the star field outside the ship. When Spock entered the Observation Deck, Jagusch-McGillis dominated the star field windows, shining like an emerald in the black velvet of space.

Dr. Surrey sat in a chair on the star field side, engrossed a hardbound book, his head resting against his hand as he read.

"Pardon me," Spock said, and Dr. Surrey started at the unexpected voice, turned to Spock and chuckled.

"Good god, Mister Spock, you scared the bejeezuz out of me."

"It was not my intention to alarm you," Spock assured him.

Dr. Surrey smiled and nodded. "Okay. Good. What can I do for you?"

"I... am uncertain..."

"Uncertainty isn't necessarily a bad thing." Dr. Surrey closed his book, indicating a chair adjacent to his. "Come talk to me about it."

Spock walked to the chair, but remained standing. He doesn't want to take a posture that may be construed as submissive or insecure, Surrey understood. "What are you uncertain about, Mister Spock?" he prompted.

"I am aware a meeting took place earlier today between yourself, Dr. McCoy, Captain Kirk, Nurse Chapel, Lieutenant Uhura and Sa'aat."

Well, we knew we couldn't keep it a secret from him for long. "And this concerns you."

"Yes, as I was also made aware this meeting revolved around me - and yet I was not a party to it."

"You feel like we're... going behind your back."

"Precisely."

"It wasn't our intention to cause you distress, Mister Spock. We met to... Please take a seat. Looking up at you is giving my neck a charley horse."

"The 'charley horse', as I understand the condition, is confined to the muscles of the legs or arms, is it not, Doctor," Spock stated.

He's not accepting anything that sounds even vaguely like a diversion or a lie. He's feeling persecuted and cynical. "That's quite correct. I misspoke. It's more like a crick... Please, sit," Dr. Surrey said again.

Reluctantly, Spock settled into the chair directly opposite the doctor. His posture was stiff and unyielding, his back parallel to the back of the chair, his hands on his thighs, closed but not into fists.

"We met today..." Dr. Surrey explained, "...to try to pull together as much information as we had on what might be causing your nightmares and hallucinations, and your recurring sleeplessness."

"You discussed my medical and psychological standing without my knowledge or permission."

"Well... at first blush it might appear that way. But, bear in mind, when you agreed to submit to a psych eval - "

"When I was ordered to attend a psychological evaluation," Spock corrected firmly.

Man, he's not giving an inch. "Initially, it was an order, yes. But you requested another session with me, and in doing so you also signed a waiver allowing me access to your medical records and to any adjunctive information I might need to assist in your therapy. We have to rule out medical conditions that might be causing or impinging upon your mental state before we can address a detailed plan for therapy. I think I already discussed that with you, didn't I?"

"Briefly, yes," Spock conceded.

"Okay then... Now, Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel are both able to speak to your medical history and your current physical state, and Captain Kirk has the authority to hear that information because he's your commanding officer, and your mental state can have a direct effect on your ability to perform your duties as First Officer and Science Officer aboard the Enterprise. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Spock admitted quietly. Then he countered with, "And to the right of Lieutenant Uhura and Sa'aat to access my personal health information - ?"

"Lieutenant Uhura witnessed your chemically induced plak-tau, and she also witnessed some of your nightmares, your sleep deprivation, and the hallucination. Therefore, her input was invaluable. I also asked her to attend because I felt, as she is - as far as I understand - your significant other, she was already privy to most, if not all, of what we discussed at the meeting. Since there was no discussion of your past medical history, and since I believed she already knew your current history, there was, in my view, no breach of client confidentiality. If I made a mistake in that regard, it is entirely my fault, and I will accept the consequences of my decision."

Spock was silent for several long seconds, and Dr. Surrey did not press him for a response. "And Sa'aat?" Spock asked simply.

"He had information on what happened to you during the chemically induced plak-tau on the medical tricorder he used when you were on New Vulcan, so, again... he wasn't being told anything he didn't already know."

"Why was I not bade to join the discussion?"

"The meeting was exploratory in nature. Its purpose wasn't to come to any consensus or to form any conclusions about your case, but rather to pool as much information as we could about your current difficulties so we could present it all to you, at a later date, alongside our recommendations."

"There is information which I could bring to the table which is of equal or greater value than that brought by anyone else in attendance," Spock stated.

"That's very true, Mister Spock," Dr. Surrey acknowledged. "Your personal input is the most valuable information we can use to determine your status; of that there is no doubt or argument... And, that's why we drew no conclusion from today's meeting except to get together at a subsequent meeting, when you could be present, to discuss what we know or suspect, and establish a treatment regime and support system for you. Our approach may have been clumsily executed, Mister Spock, but it was done with your best interest at heart."

"My best interest," Spock repeated. He set his jaw, and his features turned stony. "I do not require you, Doctor McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, or anyone else to articulate, in any way, on my behalf as concerns my own medical and psychological status. I am still quite capable of speaking for myself."

"Yes. You're right."

"Do not patronize me, Dr. Surrey," Spock said, his voice going heavy and dark. "It is offensive."

Vulcans never admit to being offended; offense is brought on by emotion. And if he's admitting to an emotional response, I'm in deep shit. "I wasn't patronizing you, Mister Spock. Honestly."

"You all treat me as though I am a fragile child."

He's getting defensive. I need to diffuse this before he loses it. "That was never our intention, Mister Spock. If our actions caused you to deduce that, then I sincerely apologize," Dr. Surrey said evenly. "For my own part, you have to bear in mind that I've never had a Vulcan as a patient before, so... I'm learning as we go along here, just as you are. I'm going to make mistakes, so... I'm going to need you to cut me some slack. Okay?"

Spock was silent, his eyes moving back and forth slightly as he processed his thoughts. He turned his head to one side, away from the doctor, and after a few more moments, his hands relaxed a bit. The palms flattened, and then rubbed his thighs slowly.

Self-soothing. He's calming himself down. Good for him.

Spock took in a deep breath then let it out slowly, before returning his gaze to Dr. Surrey. "I do not want another meeting to take place as regards my medical or psychological status without my presence."

"I understand, and if it is within my power, I will accommodate you in that." Spock went quiet again, and after a few moments, Dr. Surrey interjected, "Could I make a suggestion - ?"

Spock looked him in the eyes.

I'll take that as a yes. "In light of your current... difficulties... It might behoove you to assign to someone your medical power of attorney."(27)

Spock lifted his chin, defiant. "Are you suggesting yourself, Doctor?"

"No. No, no... As a matter of fact, it can't be me. It has to be somebody else; somebody you trust implicitly to make decisions for you as regards your physical and mental health should you ever become... incapacitated. It's just a safeguard, Mister Spock, so you can feel secure that your wishes will be followed no matter what."

Spock's chin dropped to its normal level again. "I will take your suggestion under advisement."

"Great. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"

"No," Spock said softly but not quite convincingly.

Dr. Surrey offered, "Would you... like to sit here with me for a while? I can read to you. I've been told by my former psychology students that my voice is a sure fire antidote for insomnia..."

"What are you reading?" Spock asked.

Dr. Surrey laughed. The Vulcan's inadvertent humor delighted him. He picked up his book again and read the title aloud, "The Fundamental Concepts of Psychoanalysis as Regards Neurotic Personality Disorders in Klingons"by Divok Mishtak."(28)

"Sounds fascinating," Spock said, settling back, more comfortably, into his chair.


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(1) Ozh'esta: Vulcan finger-touching
(2) Ich: a disease of tropical fish caused by a protozoan which manifests as small white nodules on the skin, fins and eyes of the fish. It's also called ichthyophthirius or ichthyophthirius disease.
(3) Spleneth Aperitif: A cloying pale blue Andorian drink made from the spleneth root, with both alcoholic and medicinal qualities, that acts as a sort of mild sedative in small doses. It tastes like raw snails. Usually, when used as a sedative patient's go through a short of period of feeling very chatty, then euphoric, then sleepy. Author's Note: This is NOT Trek canon; I just made this up.
(4) I will be back: This is a scene and a line of dialog straight from the 2009 movie "Star Trek".
(5) Crass Vernacular: This is based loosely on Trek canon. Since Vulcans control their emotions, they do not, generally speaking, swear or otherwise use off-color language. According to the Star Trek Geekipedia site: "Use of them in speech now does not fit with the logical lifestyle and control of emotions that Vulcans embrace. In the pre-Surak world, their usage was common, but today they are only used by those who do not follow Surak's teachings, outlaws, those undergoing a difficult pon farr, by the criminally insane, etc. Never use them in speech with most Vulcans or you may find yourself being subjected to a mental health evaluation! Because of their distaste, Vulcans may refer to this type of speech as 'Gutter Mode', if they speak of it at all." [stogeek(.)com/ wiki/ Vulcan_Language_Lesson_26]
(6) Sa-ka-ashausu: The Vulcan term for a homosexual male.
(7) Nam-tor t'nash-veh fam: from the Vulcan it translates as "I am not myself".
(8) Nemaiyo: The Vulcan word for the phrase "thank you".
(9) Ha, k'diwa: translated from the Vulcan it mean "yes, beloved".
(10) The Vulcan food: "theris-masu" is an herbal tea, "kap" is a kind of Vulcan bread, "yarmok" is a salad made of sharply flavored Vulcan vegetables, and "pla-savas" is a very sweet blue-black fruit also known simply as "blue-fruit". Author's Note: The sparkling jade-water and the long-fork utensils were my own inventions. I envisioned this little spread like a midnight snack for the Vulcans.
(11) Bhut Jolokia pepper: a pepper commonly recognized as the hottest chili pepper on Earth, even hotter than the Red Savina Habanero pepper. On the Scoville scale it rates between 855,000–1,050,000.
(12) Handling food: This is from Trek canon (specifically the "Broken Bow" episode of Enterprise) which states that Vulcans do not touch their food with their hands. Handling food with ones hands at a meal is considered unsanitary and animal-like.
(13) Life spans: this is based on the premise in Trek canon that Humans live to be about 85 to 100 years old, and Vulcans live to be about 250-275 years old.
(14) V'tosh ka'tur: "Vulcans without logic", of the Vahklas Sect, Vulcans who openly embrace their emotional impulses.
(15) Reasoning: In the previous story, "The Ek'tevan Prerogative", Sarek and Sa'aat went along with the edict for their own reasons: Sarek didn't want to rock the boat until he had his own contingencies in line and could overthrow the existing government - which didn't happen, because then T'Pau pulled his son into the mix; and Sa'aat went through with it in order to stay close to Semuk, AND because he thought that he'd never have the chance to reproduce (since he's gay) and found the idea of fathering children intriguing.
(16) Vrekasht: The Vulcan word for "outcast".
(17) Jellyfish: This was the colloquial name for the ship commissioned by the Vulcan Science Academy, in the 2009 movie "Star Trek", which was first flown by Spock Prime and then by Spock. Spock put the Jellyfish on a collision course with the Romulan ship, Narada, in order to destroy the Narada when it attacked the planet Earth.
(18) Taluhk Tan: Literally translated from the Vulcan language, it means "precious gift".
(19) This is indicative of the lines Sybok had in the film "Star Trek: The Final Frontier". He used his mental acuity to locate the secret pain in others, pull it from them, and then "brain wash" them into accepting him as a leader.
(20) The Exploritorium: a real museum in San Francisco full of hundreds of hands-on exhibits that mix science and art. It was founded in 1969 by Dr. Frank Oppenheimer and was a forerunner in the movement that promoted museums as informal centers of education. If you're ever in San Francisco, the Exploritorium is located at 3601 Lyon Street, San Francisco, CA - (415) 561-0360 . Author's Note: I picked a spot in San Francisco, of course, because that's where the main campus of Star Fleet Academy was located in Star Trek, around the Presidio, and I figured if Christine was working her way through school, she'd have to be somewhere close to the Academy (yet still off-campus).
(21) Khracoi'a t'nash-veh: it translates from the Vulcan as "my damn buttock". Krha~ or khr~ appear before words in the Vulcan language when the words are used as invectives. Like all profanity, this kind of language is not generally used by Vulcans , and is considered crass and loutish.
(22) Sash-savas: a kind of oblong-shaped citrus fruit native to Vulcan; it has a very strong flavor, and is sometimes called an "acid fruit" because of its high concentrations of citric and ascorbic acid.
(23) Mathras, and Staroks: These are all the names of creatures native to Vulcan. The mathras are butterflies, and staroks are bats.
(24) Shakhu: Vulcan term for "The Elderly".
(25) Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas: translated from the Vulcan it means the "followers of the holy guardian spirits", this is a Sect comprised mostly of Vulcan mystics and their apprentices, also called simply "The Vai Giddas". Author's Note: I made this sect up; it's NOT part of Trek canon.
(26) Ka'athyra: The name for the Vulcan lute or lyre. According to the Memory Alpha Site: "[the lyre is a] twelve-stringed instrument, that was tuned on a diatonic scale" (a musical scale with 7 notes). According to Trek canon, Spock is very proficient in this instrument.
(27) Medical Power of Attorney: This was actually suggested by FanFicton member "Stage Manager"; thank you! The medical power of attorney (also called an MPOA) is a legal document that designates a certain individual as your "agent" or "proxy" and allows that person to make medical decisions for you when you are unable to do so yourself. This is not the same POA as one that allows someone else to incur or pay for medical debts on your behalf.
(28)The Fundamental Concepts of Psychoanalysis as Regards Neurotic Personality Disorders in Klingons by Divok Mishtak. I just totally made this up; there is no such book - as far as I know.