|
"The Thorn and the Rose"
Rating: PG-13 A/N: Many thanks to Distracted for her beta-ing skills. CHAPTER 25: TOROK Torok did not suffer fools lightly, but Admiral Kiran was his guest and proprieties must be observed. The high priest sighed inwardly and pressed one hand against his temple. It was indeed a pity that he could not banish the admiral from his sight, even though such punishment was well deserved. Perhaps there was something to be said for human forthrightness. He had seen the look in Commander Tucker’s eyes. Given the chance, the young man would have spelled out his feelings in no uncertain terms and had the admiral forcibly evicted from the premises, if necessary. Torok closed his eyes for a moment of quiet contemplation. The mental image of Kiran being ushered out of the reception room was something to be savored. All too soon, the grating sound of the admiral’s voice forced the high priest to abandon his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he looked across the reception room from his position at the head of the large oval table. Unfortunately, the scene had not changed. Kiran and T’Lan still had their backs to him as they continued to rebuke the two commanders. An egregious breach of etiquette, Torok mused absently. Soval stood helplessly nearby, a frown on his face. Commander T’Pol, clearly visible behind the smaller body of Minister T’Lan, appeared to be suitably composed. Only Commander Tucker, positioned as he was behind Kiran’s bulky frame, remained hidden from view. The high priest shifted in his chair as he tried to get a better view. He could only hope that he had not misjudged the young man. It was vital that the human bear up under the intense pressure, even though the memories of past tragedies had already stretched his emotional stability to the limit. He had to be strong. He had to remain under control. A great deal was riding on him. Kiran’s voice was growing louder. “The possibility of a half human child would deliver us back to the days of violence before Vulcans embraced logic. We can not allow that. I will do everything in my power to see that no Vulcan – man or woman – threatens the future of our species by joining with a barbarian.” Why must Kiran always resort to pointless histrionics? Torok sat back in his chair, shaking his head dismissively. It was just this sort of intolerance that must be purged from Vulcan society. The future safety of their people depended upon building close alliances with alien races, not driving them away. Torok understood that Kiran would never be able to accept that. His prejudices ran too deep. But the high priest had expected more from T’Lan. She was an intelligent, perceptive woman. It made little sense for her to align herself first with V’Las and now with Kiran, two narrow-minded, bigoted men. T’Lan’s voice intruded on his thoughts. “Those are strong words, Admiral, but what if the deed is already done?” Torok had had enough of this. Catching Soval’s eye, he tapped his index finger on the gleaming black tabletop. Soval nodded. The high priest knew that the ambassador, always the quick and willing pupil, would immediately understand his wishes. “Admiral, Minister T’Lan, since Torok was good enough to grant your request for an audience, it is illogical to exclude him.” Soval motioned towards the table. “Why don’t we join him and we can continue this…discussion.” Kiran, his face slightly flushed, turned to face Torok. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable, but he held his tongue. “It was not our intention to exclude you from the conversation, Torok,” T’Lan said smoothly. She glanced at the admiral before continuing. “Humans lack our self-control. We felt sure that if we confronted Commander Tucker, his face would betray his guilt.” “And did you see any guilt?” Torok asked sternly. “The commander is clearly hiding something.” “That is not the same as guilt, Minister. The personal problems that Commander Tucker spoke of are very real. And with humans, there is always the possibility that looks can be deceiving.” T’Pol walked quietly over to the table and stopped by the chair on Torok’s right. Trip helped her to be seated and then took the chair next to her. The high priest was gratified to see that both of them seemed to be holding up in the face of Kiran’s harangue. “Minister T’Lan.” Soval once again gestured toward the table with its eight matching chairs. “Admiral, if you please.” T’Lan nodded to the ambassador and complied with his wishes. Torok was interested to see that she did not take the chair immediately to his left, but chose instead to sit across from the human. Kiran hesitated for only a split second before taking the chair directly opposite the high priest. When Soval sat on Torok’s left, it left the admiral in sole possession of far end of the table. Snorting silently, Torok gripped the head of his cane more firmly with his left hand. He was not surprised by Kiran’s choice. Every decision, every action, every breath that man took was a grab for power. “All right, Torok,” Kiran said coldly, “we are all seated in accordance with your wishes, but the situation remains unchanged.” He pointed a finger at the two commanders. “We deserve an answer. Are those two involved in an illicit relationship? Did they come here to sever a bond?” Torok looked first at T’Pol, who sat motionless, her eyes fixed on some point off in the distance, and then over to Tucker. It was apparent from his knitted brow and clenched jaw that the commander was struggling to find a way to answer to the admiral’s question. While he pondered, the young man absently moved one finger, tracing slow, deliberate circles on the tabletop. “Well,” Kiran challenged. The admiral’s face was cold and unyielding, but there was righteous indignation in his eyes. Suddenly the finger stopped moving. Tucker folded both hands on the table and focused his attention on Kiran. “Admiral, it’s obvious that you’ve already made up your mind. Since there’s nothing that T’Pol or I can say that will alter that fact, it’s pointless for us to try. So let’s just assume that a bond does exist between the two of us and move forward from there.” Torok was satisfied with Tucker’s response. Instead of an argument, the young man had produced a logical response to Kiran’s challenge without actually admitting to anything. Perhaps all was not lost. “It’s your move, Admiral,” Trip said firmly. Kiran glanced in T’Pol’s direction. “Didn’t that woman inform you of my intentions?” “Why don’t you fill me in?” The admiral drew himself up and folded his hands on the table in front of him, matching Tucker. They looked remarkably like two warriors preparing to do battle. “I intend to bring an end to the strategic talks with the humans. I have more than enough influence in the Council to make that happen. Vulcans will not deal with creatures that are bent on subverting our culture.” “In the face of the Romulan threat, it makes no sense to break off the talks,” Tucker countered. “Starfleet is only interested in trying to find ways to work together with Vulcans. Subverting your culture is the farthest thing from our minds.” “Glib assurances come easily to you, Commander, but they will do you no good. It is your indiscretions that have created a diplomatic incident – you and your Vulcan concubine. You have no one to blame for the termination of the talks but yourselves.” The anxiety in T’Pol’s eyes was barely perceptible, but Tucker left no question as to his feelings. The tightly compressed lips and rigid set of his features clearly conveyed his anger. For a few tense moments, Torok was concerned that the young man might lose control of himself, but then he noticed the look of steely determination on the commander’s face. After taking a moment to collect himself, Tucker fired back. “Excuse me, sir, but I think you’ve got that wrong.” Kiran raised an eyebrow questioningly. “T’Pol and I aren’t the problem. The only person endangering Vulcan is you, sir.” In that instant, all eyes turned toward Tucker. “That is the sort of response I would expect from a human.” Kiran looked down his nose at Tucker. “Your kind runs from responsibility. Someone else must always be at fault. That will not work this time. This time you will be held accountable.” “I don’t think you understand, sir,” Trip stated firmly. “I’m not trying to avoid responsibility. In this case it’s pretty plain that the danger to Vulcan – and to Earth – lies, not in our actions, but in yours. To put it bluntly, I think you’re being played, Admiral.” “Played.” Kiran scowled as he looked for help from those seated around the table. “I do not understand. Speak plainly, human.” “Someone is trying to use you to sabotage the conference.” The silence in the room was absolute. Torok leaned back in his chair, thoughts swirling through his head. With a wary glance in Kiran’s direction, Soval finally broke the silence. “Commander Tucker, that is a serious accusation. Where is your proof?” “He has no proof,” Kiran hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is an outrage.” The admiral slowly rose to his feet and leaned forward, his arms rigidly braced against the tabletop. “How dare you call me a saboteur? You cannot divert me with your lies. You must answer for what you have done.” “Wake up, Admiral,” Trip said sharply. “There’s too much at stake here. Look at the facts. The last time Vulcan agreed to explore joint missions with Starfleet, a bomb exploded in our embassy and a lot of good people died. Now here we are again. Another conference and another lost opportunity. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” “That is nothing but pure speculation, Commander,” T’Lan said. She looked pointedly at the admiral, and he grudgingly sat back down. “I do not believe that the tragedy at the United Earth Embassy has anything to do with the present situation. Admiral Kiran is only trying to protect Vulcan and her people.” “Some outside force is trying to destabilize this entire quadrant. That’s a fact, ma’am, not speculation. Keeping Vulcans and humans apart is only the first step. Eventually, the people behind this are going to try and break up the Coalition. We can’t let that happen.” Instantly, Trip turned his attention to the admiral. “Be honest with us, sir. Who gave you the idea to use T’Pol and me as an excuse to cancel the talks?” Kiran sat motionless. His rigid features gave no hint of any inner turmoil, but Torok noted that his breathing seemed to be slightly accelerated. “I will not be questioned by a human,” the admiral said in a voice as brittle as a sheet of glass. “I mean no disrespect, sir. This is nothing personal.” “I think it is very personal. You just implied that I am weak – a pawn to be used at whim by other people. I would not accept that from a Vulcan. I certainly will not tolerate such abuse from an uncouth savage.” Tucker gritted his teeth and looked over at Torok. The high priest could see at once that the young man’s self-control was stretched to the limit. There was a slightly redder cast to his features and one hand clutched the other so tightly that it seemed only a matter of time before bones would fracture under the strain. Torok understood the impulsive and sometimes explosive nature of this young man. It had been unfair to place him in an alien world, subject him to the vitriol Kiran spewed out with every breath, and then expect him to behave as a Vulcan would. “Admiral, I do not believe that it was Commander Tucker’s intention to question your character,” Torok stated quietly. “But this is a serious situation. I think we should listen to what he has to say.” Kiran drew himself up to protest, but Torok motioned him to be silent. “Our duty to protect Vulcan must take precedence over any personal considerations. Continue, young man.” Trip leaned back in his chair and visibly tried to force himself to relax. Torok was pleased to see that he was using the proper breathing techniques, probably another example of T’Pol’s influence over the young human. “Okay, let’s look at this logically,” Tucker began. Vulcan eyebrows rose as soon as the words left his mouth, but he appeared to take no notice. “We know why this is happening. Whoever is doing this wants to disrupt the talks. We know how. That’s where Admiral Kiran comes in. We know where and when. It’s pretty obvious that it’s here and now. That leaves us with who. Who wants to end the talks and destabilize this region of space? I doubt that the Andorians could get close enough to do this kind of damage. I think we can eliminate them. It’s too subtle for the Klingons. And there is no evidence to suggest that it’s one of our Coalition partners. That leaves the Romulans. They’re sneaky bastards, and we know they’re lookin’ for trouble.” Trip’s eyes roamed around the table. “But I don’t think we can stop there. We may need to look a little closer to home. After all, Soval proved that it was Stel, the henchman of Administrator V’Las, who planted the bomb in our embassy.” “That information was obtained through a mind meld,” T’Lan said frostily. “It has no standing in law.” “That may be the case,” Tucker countered, “but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. V’Las wasn’t just trying to wipe out the Syrannites. He was preparing to start a war with Andoria. You know that as well as I do, Admiral. You were the Fleet Commander. You gave the order to the Vulcan ships.” “The Andorians have threatened the security of Vulcan for far too long,” Kiran said forcefully. “You humans should not have interfered. Our ships should not have been called back.” “A war with Andoria would have done nothing but drain your resources and divide your people. Can’t you see that V’Las was getting ready to hand the Romulans a great big present: a country weakened by war and internal strife?” “That is absurd,” Kiran responded firmly. “You are suggesting that V’Las was working with the Romulans.” “I guess I am.” For a split second, Trip looked slightly confused. He raised one hand and scrubbed it distractedly over his forehead before continuing. “The bombing…weakened ties…with Starfleet, effectively isolating Vulcan. That gave V’Las a free hand to launch an unprovoked attack on the Andorian ships. Why? Vulcans aren’t conquerors. You have no territorial ambitions?” “You have a point, Commander,” Soval said pensively, “but to assume that this could be connected to the Romulans…” He shook his head. “That is too great a leap in logic.” “But consider those events in light of what’s happened since then,” Tucker continued. When he looked at the commander, Torok could almost hear the cry of the sehlat stalking his prey. “After the discovery of the Kir’Shara, V’Las was removed from power. There was no war. The Romulans had to find another way to weaken Vulcan’s defenses. What could be better than dismantling the Vulcan fleet? Somebody had to give the order that left only a handful of ships with their full crews. Was it T’Pau? Minister Kuvak? Or was it you, Admiral?” “Are you accusing me of being a Romulan spy?” “No, sir. I just asked a question. Did you issue the order?” “I have nothing to hide.” Kiran lifted his chin. “Yes, it was done on my order. A fringe group had just seized power and disbanded the High Command. It was logical to assume that this new government could not be trusted. Without the fleet at full strength, these interlopers would be prevented from doing anything reckless.” “Like chasing after a Romulan drone ship,” Tucker commented dryly. “Exactly.” Kiran’s voice was firm, but he suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. “Even without the change in government, it was clear that our fleet was disorganized. I kept enough ships in service to protect our planet and…yes…I ordered the rest to stand down temporarily. Certain individuals had to be relieved of their duties. They could no longer be trusted. Others no longer wished to serve. They were suddenly more interested in studying the Kir’Shara than in defending their world. I did what was necessary.” “And no one influenced your decision?” Tucker pressed. “Of course not. I do not need others to tell me my duty.” “In retrospect, Admiral, it would appear that your decision was ill-considered.” T’Lan sat with her back rigid, her posture impeccable. “Commander Tucker is correct. You had barely issued the order for the majority of our fleet to stand down when the Romulans decided to test their drone ship. I find it hard to believe that that is merely a coincidence.” “I concur,” T’Pol said, her voice was tight, her words clipped. “When Captain Archer asked for our help, Vulcan was able to send only 23 ships. In order to acquire the fleet of 128 ships needed to track down the drone ship, he was forced to rely on the Andorians and Tellarites – two peoples who had never worked together. He could have easily failed to gain their cooperation. Where would that have left us? How long would it have been before Romulan drone ships infested this entire quadrant?” “It is not my actions that are open to question. These two…people are the disruptive force.” Kiran glared first at Tucker and T’Pol, and then allowed his eyes to move from face to face around the table. “I took decisive action in a time of political upheaval. There is no logic in looking for conspiracies where none exist. We know our enemy. It is the Andorians. They want to subvert our government, not the Romulans. The Romulans are our brothers.” “That is enough, Admiral.” Torok thumped his cane forcefully against the stone floor. “Be careful what you say.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tucker’s head snap to attention. The high priest immediately caught Soval’s eye. They both knew that Kiran had a one-track mind, and it was now focused solely on defending his honor. He could quickly become a danger to them all. If the admiral’s indiscretions continued, they would have to take action. Their concern was immediately justified when Tucker asked, “What do you mean ‘brothers’?” Fortunately, Kiran bulled ahead, completely ignoring the human. “V’Las understood the true threat, but he was forced from power. We must be prepared to fight the Andorians. They had access to the Xindi weapon. It is only a matter of time before they attack. They are constantly probing us, testing our defenses.” “And yet you weakened our fleet in the face of such a threat,” Soval responded in a measured voice. “Do not twist my words, Soval. I see what you are trying to do. I will not allow you to discredit me. I will…” “Admiral,” Torok said firmly, “you must be still.” “I must defend myself against these baseless…” “No.” Torok held up one hand, palm forward. When he was sure he had the admiral’s full attention he continued. “Take a moment, Kiran, and think about what has been said here.” The admiral tried to brush the words aside, but the high priest would not back down. “For once, see things as they are, not as others have led you to believe. The threat to our people is very real. It is the Romulans we must guard against. You cannot deny that there may be some truth in what Commander Tucker has said.” The admiral started to say something in rebuttal, but after catching sight of T’Lan’s withering gaze, he closed his mouth again. A moment later he straightened his shoulders and said calmly, “I did what I had to do. Whether you approve of my actions is irrelevant. I acted in the best interests of Vulcan. I will continue to do so until I am relieved of my command. If the Romulans pose a threat – and I am not yet convinced of that fact – I will fight them with every weapon at my disposal.” “All we ask, Kiran, is that you open your mind to the possibilities,” Torok said conciliatorily. “I know you think that I am a blind fool, but I am perceptive enough to realize what will happen if it becomes common knowledge that these two are bonded. I won’t have to cancel the conference. Most of our delegates will simply walk out. Such a relationship is unacceptable.” “But if you don’t plant that idea in…” “Excuse me,” Trip interrupted Soval, “but I think I can save us all a little time. Admiral, I think it’s pretty clear to everyone here that the strategic talks must take place. T’Pol and I will do whatever is necessary to see that that happens.” He turned toward T’Pol. Her only response was a subtle nod of her head. Reaching into his robe, Trip pulled out a padd. He held it for a moment, and then pushed it across the table to Torok. “This contains our resignations from Starfleet. We’re prepared to step down effective immediately.” The high priest glanced at the padd and pushed it over to Soval. After looking at it, he, in turn, passed it along to T’Lan. “It is as he said,” she informed Kiran after carefully reviewing the text on the padd. “This contains both of their resignations.” She looked over to Tucker. “How convenient. Tell me, Commander, do you always carry your resignation on your person?” “No, ma’am.” Trip’s eyes dropped to the table. “But…this time it was important for me to keep it close.” “I see. You and Commander T’Pol just happen to both make the decision to resign at the same time. When did this pact of yours take place?” “It’s not a pact, ma’am. T’Pol and I talked briefly yesterday. We discovered that we’ve both been thinking about leaving Starfleet. She’s missed living on Vulcan. I’ve been considering several other job offers. She left the padd with her resignation in my room. It sounded like a good idea, so this morning I added my own. My intent was to resign when the strategic talks concluded, but I’m prepared to leave now.” “As am I,” T’Pol said. “Will that satisfy you, Admiral?” Torok was surprised when Kiran hesitated. He personally found this solution disturbing, but he had expected the admiral to accept it at once. “You will not be welcome on Vulcan, T’Pol,” Kiran said guardedly. “You cannot shed your shame when you remove your Starfleet uniform.” “I have done nothing to cause me to feel ashamed,” T’Pol said with conviction. “Since you have our resignations, Commander Tucker and I ask only that you confirm that you will not try to prevent the talks from continuing as scheduled.” Kiran looked over to T’Lan, but she remained stone-faced. “I…will take it under consideration.” “That is not acceptable, Admiral,” Torok said earnestly. “Ambassador V’Lar will arrive in two days. We need your assurances now.” T’Pol squared her shoulders. “As soon as we have your promise, Admiral, I would like to inform Captain Archer that Mr. Tucker and I have decided to resign our commissions. He will want to contact Starfleet immediately to secure our replacements.” “Just a moment.” Soval leaned forward intently. “Assuming Commander Tucker’s suppositions are correct, I think we all know that the Romulans will not simply accept defeat. If we thwart them now, they will only keep trying until they succeed. The commanders will have sacrificed their careers for nothing. We must discover once and for all who is doing this and how they are exerting their influence on our government.” “You make a good point, Ambassador,” T’Lan said in a voice slightly higher pitched that usual. “I am inclined to agree with you. We know that the Romulans are a determined opponent. These resignations will probably accomplish nothing.” The minister cast a no-nonsense look at Kiran. Grudgingly, he nodded his assent. “The talks must go ahead as scheduled.” She shoved the padd across the table. “As a matter of fact, Commander Tucker, I must insist that you become an active participant.” “Me?” Clearly surprised, Trip picked up the padd and looked it over before carefully tucking it away in his robe. “Why me?” “I cannot condone your relationship with Commander T’Pol, but as you so ably pointed out, we have greater concerns at the moment. You are surprisingly astute. And today you have demonstrated an ability to organize and communicate your thoughts in an effective manner without resorting to emotionalism. Those skills will be invaluable in the coming days.” “Thank you, but…” “There is no need for humility, Commander. Self-effacement is lost on us. I believe that you are in possession of information that may be vital to our defense.” Tucker stared at T’Lan bewilderedly. “Ma’am?” “You were one of the humans who boarded the Romulan drone ship.” T’Lan tilted her head to one side. “That is correct, isn’t it?” “Yes, ma’am, but I’m not sure how much I can tell you. It wasn’t exactly a sightseeing trip. Everything happened pretty fast.” “You are an engineer?” “Chief engineer. Yes, ma’am.” “You are a highly trained and intelligent man. Surely you learned a great deal about the workings of the drone ship.” “I guess I picked up a few things. I don’t know how much help they’ll be to anyone though.” “Starfleet sent along a copy of the commander’s report,” Soval commented. “He was able to provide some technical data. Unfortunately, he was incapacitated for a portion of the time.” “Nevertheless,” T’Lan said thoughtfully, “with the proper help, he will undoubtedly be able to tell us far more than he realizes.” T’Lan placed both hands on the edge of the table and pushed her chair back. “Now if there is nothing else, there are some important matters I must attend to before Ambassador V’Lar arrives.” Before rising, she looked pointedly at Trip and T’Pol. “I think it goes without saying that any relationship you two are engaged in must remain a secret, at least for the foreseeable future. That is only prudent. As you said yourself, Commander Tucker, there is a great deal at stake here.” “Minister T’Lan is correct,” Kiran added stiffly. “The talks still could fail. If that happens, you will bear the responsibility, human, not me. To protect the alliance between Earth and Vulcan, no one must ever know what you have done. The decision is yours.” Trip cast an anxious glance in T’Pol’s direction. “Now wait a minute. If T’Pol and I ever do decide to enter into a relationship, a few people will have to know: Captain Archer, my parents…” “No one.” “But…” “Those are our conditions and they are not negotiable. I will not condone or abet such a blatantly unnatural union. There are many others on Vulcan – people highly placed in our government and seats of higher learning – who share my opinion. We cannot force you to sever your bond…” Kiran raised his hand when Tucker started to protest. “…but we can demand that you remain silent.” “You have no right to make that kind of a demand on us.” Trip’s eyes flew around the table, desperately seeking support. Kiran sat back in his chair. He once again gave every impression of being a man who was in total control. “We have every right.” “This seems rather extreme,” Soval said quietly. “Surely it would do no harm…” “They tell two people. Those two people, in turn, tell two people. Before long their secret is common gossip on both worlds.” “But in time, our people may become more tolerant, more enlightened,” Soval countered. “Vulcans are slow to embrace change. For acceptance to occur, humans will first have to prove themselves worthy. You and I will not see that in our lifetimes, Ambassador.” While he weighed his options, Torok lightly brushed the fingers of one hand back and forth over the tabletop. He understood the young man’s desperation. It was always difficult to have the course of one’s life determined by others. Vulcans were accustomed to it. They were rigorously taught acceptance from early childhood. Humans, unfortunately, still continued to cling to the unrealistic ideal of self-determination. “Do we have your promise to remain silent, Commander Tucker?” T’Lan asked. “We do not ask this lightly. We are aware of the sacrifice that you will be making.” Trip turned beseechingly to the high priest. Torok knew what the commander wanted him to say, but he could not. As much as he disliked admitting it, in this instance Kiran and T’Lan were correct. Word would get out, and the damage such a revelation would cause could be significant. The young man must be patient. Before their relationship could be made public, the proper groundwork would first have to be laid. If the human had any hope of remaining with T’Pol, he must learn to accept. He must learn the Vulcan way. “It will be difficult, young man,” Torok said, “but you must think of the good of the many. It is possible that the futures of both our peoples rest on your shoulders today.” The eyes staring back at him were two blue pools of misery and despair. “You must do what has to be done.” “Do we have your word, Commander?” T’Lan asked again. Trip swallowed hard and slowly turned his attention to Minister T’Lan. He took one deep, ragged breath and said, “Yes, ma’am.” “T’Pol, do you agree to these terms?” “Yes,” T’Pol answered T’Lan softly. As the two commanders stared straight ahead, Torok focused his attention on Kiran. “Will that satisfy you, Admiral?” “It will have to do for now.” Kiran got to his feet. “What about the Romulans?” Trip asked numbly. “Are we just going to forget about them?” “Rest assured, we will investigate,” Soval answered sincerely. “I will speak with T’Pau and Kuvak. I am sure they will be very interested in your hypotheses, Commander.” “Baseless slander. You, Commander, seek to destroy my reputation and I will not allow it,” Kiran stated coldly. Turning his attention to the high priest, he said, “The next time I visit this place, I expect you to be more cooperative, Torok. You are not untouchable, you know. There are ways to have you removed from your position. Keep that in mind.” After sending a final glare around the table, he announced, “I am leaving, T’Lan. I have tolerated being in the same room with a human for long enough.” Without another word, the admiral turned and marched across the room and out the door. T’Lan sighed. “Kiran is not always tactful when he feels threatened.” She studied Tucker momentarily. “I underestimated you, Commander. There is definitely more to you than meets the eye. This has been a most enlightening discussion.” She rose gracefully. Almost as if by rote, Trip respectfully got to his feet. His parents had trained him well, the high priest mused. “It has been pleasing to see you again, Torok,” T’Lan said lightly. “Perhaps when we next meet there will be time to talk about more satisfying things.” “I look forward to that, Minister.” “Ambassador, Commander T’Pol, I will see you both in two days.” T’Lan finished her good-byes and followed Kiran out the door. As soon as she was gone, Trip’s shoulders slumped. He slowly sat down and, leaning forward, buried his face in his hands. “You did well, Commander,” Torok said softly. He was distressed to see that Tucker’s hands were shaking. It was obvious that the young man was dangerously close to losing his equilibrium. “You are to be congratulated for calling Admiral Kiran to account for his actions.” Trip dropped his hands and looked at the high priest. “I tried, but it didn’t do any good. I probably just made things worse.” “We do not know that. As a matter of fact, I would imagine that Kiran has been forced to see humans in a new light today.” “Yeah,” Trip muttered sadly. “Now he thinks even less of us…if that’s possible.” “I promise you, Commander, that we will investigate Kiran and his associates,” Soval chimed in firmly. “If he was influenced by the Romulans, we will find out. I believe that you have done Vulcan a great service.” The lines of tension in Tucker’s face were clearly visible. He clutched one hand in the other to try and stop the trembling, but when that didn’t seem to help, he quickly pulled both hands into his lap. “Thanks, but I don’t think I deserve all the credit.” Trip focused his attention on Torok. “I’ve been giving this business with the Romulans a lot of thought ever since I escaped from their drone ship. Today, seeing the Admiral…well…everything just seemed to fall into place. But there were a couple of things that seemed to come out of nowhere. They didn’t come from T’Pol. I know what it feels like to have her in my head. This was different. They came from you, didn’t they, sir?” Torok shifted in his chair. “It is possible. Thoughts can sometimes be shared unintentionally during a mind meld. I must admit that the Romulans have been on my mind a great deal lately.” “Unintentional or not, I appreciate the help. I just hope I haven’t steered you wrong.” “Do not concern yourself, young man.” Torok turned his attention to the ambassador. “Soval, I want you to confirm that Admiral Kiran and Minister T’Lan have left the premises. If they are still here, hurry them along. I will not allow the admiral to foment any more trouble.” Soval got to his feet. “As you wish.” “When you have attended to that, I want you to find Dr. Kaal and confine him. He must not be allowed to communicate with anyone outside the Sanctuary.” “Do you think he was the one who told Kiran of the bond?” Soval asked. “Yes. I have had my eye on Kaal for some time now. He has proved to be disloyal and dangerous. I was remiss in not removing him from the Sanctuary a long time ago. Do not harm him, but see that he obeys you.” “Yes, sir.” Soval gave a quick bow and left the room. Trip leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, T’Pol. I really made a mess of things.” She reached over and lightly touched his arm. “You should not reproach yourself. I am honored that you were willing to fight for me.” He turned his face towards her and covered her hand with his. “What kind of life can we have now? Hiding what we feel for each other…living in the shadows.” “It will serve no purpose to dwell on what has been denied us.” The tenderness in T’Pol’s voice clearly conveyed her regard for the young human. “All we can do is make the most of what we can still have together.” When Torok cleared his throat, the two commanders looked his way. T’Pol gently pulled her hand from Tucker’s grasp and turned to face the high priest. “Commander Tucker, I want you to return to your room and rest for a few hours. We still have much to do today, and the admiral’s visit has obviously left you deeply distressed.” “If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d rather not. I don’t think I could handle any more nightmares right now.” Torok nodded. It was unfortunate that the young human’s sleep had been disrupted, but it was to be expected. “The dreams you experienced last night were a residual effect of our mind meld. When a meld is difficult and the emotions are particularly intense, it can have a lingering impact on the subconscious. Long buried memories will suddenly burst into the mind, burning quick and hot much like a solar flare. This condition is short-lived. You should not be troubled by it for much longer.” The expression on Tucker’s face clearly showed that he was not convinced. The dreams he experienced last night must have been extremely upsetting. It was unfortunate, but it couldn’t be helped. “I will send an attendant with a sedative,” Torok informed T’Pol. “It should ensure that he has several hours of dreamless sleep.” “I still have the sedative Dr. Kaal gave me yesterday. I can adjust the dosage.” Torok frowned. “No. Dispose of that. I will see that you have everything you require.” T’Pol looked at the high priest questioningly, but did not seek any further explanation. “I will do as you ask.” “Good.” T’Pol rose from her chair and gently grasped Tucker’s shoulder. “Come with me, Trip. It will only be for a few hours. I will be close by if you need me.” Trip shook his head and pulled away from her. His attention was focused solely on the high priest. “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind for me, but whatever it is, I’d just as soon get it over with right now. You picked my brain pretty clean yesterday. I don’t know what else I can tell ya.” “Do as I say, young man. I must take some time to collect my thoughts. You, in turn, must work to bring your mind and body back into balance.” Trip wrinkled his brow in confusion. “How in the hell am I supposed to do that?” “I am sure T’Pol will explain it to you when you awaken.” Torok flicked the fingers of one hand dismissively. “Good day, Commander.” * * * * * * Torok watched in silence as Solik’s family slowly walked down the Sanctuary’s main staircase and into a waiting shuttle. Solik, the Director of the Vulcan Science Academy for the past forty-three years and a trusted colleague for over a century and a half, had died suddenly and alone. Before his family could reach him, his katra was lost. Torok deeply regretted that he had been able to offer little comfort to the man’s widow or his two daughters. He had reminded them of Solik’s contributions to Vulcan and conveyed his personal regard for the deceased. He could do no more. From the top of the stairs, Torok watched as the pilot closed the hatch and prepared to take off. Slowly, his thoughts drifted back to a time long ago when he was new to the priesthood. His first posting had been to monastery in a remote, inhospitable region of Vulcan. One searing day at the height of the Vulcan summer, Velin, Solik’s father, had arrived at the monastery with his eleven-year-old son in tow. A widower, Velin had been scheduled to embark on a mission for the Vulcan High Command. No explanation had been given regarding the nature of this mission, but the tacit implication had been that it was too dangerous for the boy to accompany his father. One hour after their arrival, Velin had departed alone. Against his wishes, Torok, the youngest member of the order, had been selected to tutor the boy. Much to his surprise, Solik had challenged him from their first day together, forcing him to look beyond the obvious and examine his beliefs. Their hours spent together, teacher and student, had been immensely satisfying, molding Torok into the man he was today. And now Solik, that eager, bright-eyed boy, long since grown to manhood, was dead, his katra lost for eternity. Slowly Torok became aware that he was no longer alone. “Does that shuttle contain Solik’s family?” Soval asked quietly. “Yes.” “I grieve with thee. His loss will be felt by a great many. He was truly a man of many gifts.” “He was indeed.” Torok’s eyes remained locked on the shuttle as it lifted off and rapidly disappeared from sight. “Have you done as I asked?” “Yes, but it was not an easy task. It seems as though Mr. Tucker has more control over his emotions than Kaal. The doctor’s behavior was quite unseemly.” “There was a time long ago when I expected more of Kaal. He showed great promise when he came to the Sanctuary thirty-six years ago. For a brief time I even considered placing him in charge of one of our monasteries, but that was before it became apparent that he was not all he seemed to be. Is he still on the premises?” “No. He is on his way to Gol. He has agreed to undergo the rite of Kolinahr.” Surprised, Torok turned toward Soval. “How did you get him to agree to that?” For a moment, Soval almost looked guilty. “I told him that he could enter the monastery on Mount Kolinahr or I would see that he was posted to Columbia. I believe they are looking for another physician.” “He is under guard?” “Yes, and he will remain so until he no longer poses a threat.” “Good. You have done well, Ambassador.” Soval straightened his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back. “Have you decided on a replacement for Kaal?” “I have already spoken with Doctor Marrek about assuming the post of primary physician.” When Soval arched an eyebrow in surprise, Torok added, “I am aware that she is very young, but she is a brilliant doctor, and she is loyal.” Soval looked over Torok’s shoulder toward one of the doorways leading to the Sanctuary. “Did you send for Commander Tucker?” Torok followed his gaze. “I sent an attendant to ask him to join me.” Sighing, the high priest planted his sturdy cane firmly on the ground in front of him and, putting one hand over the other, gripped the knob tightly. “I would have preferred to delay this meeting, but I must know where we stand. Time is running short. Unchecked, Kiran can still do a great deal of damage. The man’s willfulness knows no bounds. Commander Tucker’s presence at the strategic talks may help to mitigate that. Like it or not, Kiran will be faced with a constant living reminder that things may not always be as they seem. He must remember to weigh matters carefully before he acts.” “I agree. To quote a phrase in common usage on Earth, I believe the commander ‘has his number.’” Torok raised an eyebrow questioningly. “In other words, I believe that much of what Mr. Tucker surmised is correct,” Soval explained, “and, deep down, I think Kiran believes it, too.” Soval absent-mindedly plucked at an invisible thread on the sleeve of his robe as he looked off into the distance. “This morning’s discussion must have been very unsettling for the admiral. No man likes to think that he has been manipulated.” “Especially a man as vain as Kiran,” Torok murmured. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Trip asked when he drew close to the two Vulcans. He gave Soval a quick nod of recognition before giving his full attention to the high priest. Torok was distressed to see that, even though the commander had rested for several hours, the sleep appeared to have done him little good. The dark circles under his eyes and the tense set of his jaw were clear reminders of his inner struggles. “It has been a trying day. Would you care to join me in a cup of tea, young man?” Trip looked a bit perplexed. “I guess so. I’d rather have a cold beer right about now, but I guess a cup of tea wouldn’t be too bad.” “If you will excuse me,” Soval said, “I would like to contact Ambassador V’Lar and confirm her time of arrival.” Without waiting for a response, he dipped his head respectfully to Torok and headed back to the Sanctuary. “Come with me, young man.” Using his cane for support, the high priest began to slowly make his way down the staircase. Trip quickly fell into step beside Torok. When the high priest wavered slightly, the commander reached out to help steady the old man, but at the last moment he evidently thought better of it and pulled his hand away. Instead, he hitched his robes up slightly to prevent them from tangling around his ankles. “So where are we headed?” “I have arranged for us to take tea in one of the oldest areas of the Sanctuary. You should find it quite pleasant since it is always cool, even during the intense heat of midday.” “The heat is pretty oppressive. No denyin’ that.” Trip cast his eyes toward the heavens and squinted. “An orange sky really fits this place, but I gotta admit that I miss the blue sky we have back on Earth. If we want to see splashes of orange, we have to wait for sunrise or sunset.” “It is too bad that I will never see your world in person,” Torok remarked wistfully. “It is a most interesting place.” “Yep. We’ve got a little bit of everything: deserts, glaciers, tropical rain forests, and oceans that seem to go on forever. The next time Soval travels to Earth, why don’t you tag along?” “No.” Torok shook his head. “My place is here. I am too old and set in my ways to travel to distant worlds. Exploration is for the young.” “You still seem pretty spry to me.” A wicked grin crossed Tucker’s face. “Just how old are you, sir?” Torok glanced out of the corner of his eye and took note of the teasing expression on the commander’s face. “Do not be impertinent, young man,” he said firmly but with a hint of warmth in his voice. “You know better than to ask such a question.” “Yes, sir, I do, but we have a saying on Earth: nothing ventured, nothing gained. You never know. Someday I might get lucky.” Torok snorted softly. After only a few minutes with this young man, against all logic, he could feel his dark mood begin to lift. This human was irreverent and brash, but with a depth and sincerity that reminded Torok at times of his former student, Solik. The two men were so different – world’s apart – but yet their katras seemed to sing a common song. Goodness radiated from both men, drawing people to them and lightening even the heaviest hearts. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the high priest turned to the right and led Trip along a well-worn path that ran along the foot of Mount Seleya. As they walked, Torok took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet smell of the heated soil and rocks. Over the years, this land had become a part of him. The winds breathed life into his body. The heat and glare from the sun continued to propel the blood through his veins. To leave Vulcan now, even for a short time, would mean cutting himself off from the very life force he needed to sustain himself. It had been a foolish indulgence to contemplate travel to a distant world. His place was here, where his life had meaning and purpose. After they’d gone a short distance, Torok pointed to a small stone structure directly ahead of them. “This is the well of our ancestors. It is the reason the Sanctuary was located on this site. Untold generations of Vulcans have come to this place to drink from the well before climbing the stairs to the Sanctuary. From childhood we are taught that we must first tend to the needs of the body before we can satisfy our thirst for enlightenment.” The simple oval structure was fifty-two feet long and twenty-six feet wide with rough stone walls and a flat roof. The walls were plain except for a waist-high band of ancient Vulcan symbols, which spelled out the virtues one must strive to attain in order to live a worthy life. Torok led the way through the narrow doorway and down four steps to the central chamber. Stepping aside to let the young human pass, he paused for a moment at the foot of the steps to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior. The only source of light was slits spaced two feet apart along the outer walls. The air was noticeably cooler and slightly more humid, but it was the sound of running water that made this a special place for Torok. Trip walked over to the three-foot-high stone wall that surrounded the well and peered over the edge. “This isn’t like any well I’ve ever seen before. The water down there is moving.” “Most of the freshwater rivers and lakes on Vulcan are underground. Water on the surface tends to evaporate too quickly.” “I guess that makes sense.” Trip leaned over and lifted a large ceramic jug from the floor. One end of a long rope was threaded through the jug’s curved handles and secured. The other end was attached to a large metal ring which had been driven into the ground next to the well. When he’d made sure the rope was firmly attached to the ring, Trip motioned with the jug and asked, “Is it okay?” “Of course.” Trip leaned over and lowered the jug into the rapidly moving water. The jug jerked when it hit the current, stretching the rope taut. Tucker looked over to the high priest, and eagerly observed, “It’s gotta be at least forty feet down to the water.” “In your measurements, I believe that it is forty-eight feet one inch from ground level to the surface of the water.” A huge smile spread across Tucker’s face. “That’s good to know. Next time T’Pol gets after me for not learning more about alien cultures, I’m gonna be ready for her.” Slowly, straining slightly at first, Trip pulled up the jug. As soon as he set it down on the top of the well wall, he looked around for a cup. “Let me show you.” Torok leaned his cane against the wall and took the jug from Tucker. He deftly lifted the cumbersome jug, and, tilting his head back, positioned the short spout above his mouth. A barely perceptible movement of his wrists sent a controlled, but steady stream of water into his mouth. Another subtle movement of his wrists and the flow stopped. Lowering the jug, he offered it to the commander. Trip looked askance at the jug. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but I think I’d better pass. My luck’s been pretty lousy lately. I‘m willing to bet that all I’d get for my trouble would be a face full of water.” “It simply requires practice.” Torok leaned over and, after setting the jug on the ground, retrieved his cane. “Given time, it will become as natural for you as it is for me.” Smiling, Trip said, “I’ll keep that in mind.” “I have your tea, sir.” Torok turned and saw a young female attendant standing in the doorway. She had a large rectangular metal tray in her hands. On the tray sat a spherical brushed metal teapot with two large matching cups and a triangular metal bowl containing loose tea leaves. “Come in, T’Lahr,” Torok said. “We will be in the south room when you are ready.” There was a small private room on either end of the wellhouse, where visitors and residents of the Sanctuary could rest or meditate. The south room contained an round table surrounded by four straight chairs. In the far left corner, a small open-front cabinet contained a variety of reading materials. Instead of slits in the wall, a large circular window filled the chamber with natural light. Below the window, a curved bench followed the contour of the wall. The north room was designed for meditation. Four large platforms, each nine inches high, were evenly spaced around the room. Each platform was covered by thick woven mats in shades of russet and tan. The circular window in the north chamber was covered by a heavy, dark cloth. All light came from thick white candles liberally sprinkled around the room. Torok led the commander to the right and climbed the four steps to the south chamber. Once inside, Torok sat down and motioned for Trip to take the chair next to him. “I often come here to meditate. I find the sound of the water soothing.” Before Trip could respond, T’Lahr entered the room and put the tray down on the table. She picked up the pot and placed it on a small circle at the center of the table. As soon as her hands left the pot, steam started to pour from the spout. Quickly returning the pot to the tray, she added the tea leaves and put the lid back on the pot to allow the leaves to steep. Bowing to the high priest, she turned and left the room. Trip moved his hand toward the small circle and then hesitated, looking to Torok for reassurance. “You may touch it. You will not be burned.” Trip brushed his palm across the circle. Intrigued, he bent over and peered beneath the table. When he sat up again his face was wreathed in smiles. “That’s pretty slick. I don’t suppose I could get a look at the specs for this table?” “I leave such things to other men.” “I’m guessin’ that’s a no,” Trip responded good-humoredly.” Torok reached for the pot and poured two steaming cups of tea. “Do you know why we are here, young man?” he asked softly. In an instant, Trip’s smile vanished. Taking a deep breath, his eyes began to aimlessly survey the room around him. “I’ve got a pretty good idea. I figured this had to be more that just a sightseeing tour.” Satisfied with Tucker’s response, Torok nodded his approval. “I learned a great deal about you yesterday. I believe I now possess the knowledge to help you with your problems.” Trip shifted restlessly and ran his fingers through his hair. “There isn’t a whole lot more you can say. I know I have to do a better job of handlin’ my grief. Believe me, I’m tryin’. Just give me a little more time.” The high priest leaned back in his chair, one hand still wrapped around the knob of his cane, and looked intently at the young human. “Tell me about your foreparents.” Clearly caught off guard, Trip stared at Torok for a moment before answering. “You mean my grandparents?” “Yes. Are they still living?” “Grandma and Grandpa Tucker live in Virginia. I don’t get to see them as often as I’d like, but I try to keep in touch.” “What about your maternal grandparents?” “They’re dead.” There was still a trace of puzzlement in Trip’s voice, but he seemed to be untroubled by the question. “That is regrettable. How did they die?” “They were killed in an accident.” “What sort of accident?” “I don’t know.” Trip scrubbed his hand across his brow. “I was pretty young when it happened. My parents never really talked much about it.” “How old were you?” Trip shifted restlessly. “I don’t know.” “You should know,” Torok said quietly. “You were there when they died.” Trip stiffened and his eyes took on a dazed look as though he’d been struck. “That’s not true,” he said in a voice tight with emotion. “Don’t ya think I’d remember somethin’ like that? They died in an accident a long time ago.” “They died in a plane crash when you were ten years old.” “You don’t know that,” Trip challenged Torok defensively. “You were on the plane with them at the time. Don’t you remember?” “That’s a lie!” “It is the truth, young man.” “Who told you that?” Trip leaned forward angrily. “I know you didn’t get any of that nonsense from pokin’ around in my head.” “No. You’ve hidden those memories far too deep for me to reach them. The information came from your father.” “You talked to my dad?” “Soval spoke to him. Your father was distressed that this event was still troubling you. He is naturally very concerned about your welfare.” Trip slammed his fist on the tabletop and glared at the high priest. “Soval had no right to do that! It’s none of his damn business! Or yours!” “Do not forget, Commander, you came to me seeking help. I will do whatever I feel is necessary.” Tucker jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair in the process. His body was rigid, his fists clenched. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this garbage. I’ve had my fill of Vulcans for one day!” “Sit down, Commander Tucker,” Torok said in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “No! I’m fed up with…” Torok thumped his cane firmly on the floor. “I said sit down.” Even though his emotions were still under control, he could not prevent his voice from rising. “At once!” For a moment, Torok thought that he had failed. Breathing heavily, Trip appeared to be ready to bolt from the room, but then his face suddenly crumpled, and he looked away. “Please sit down, young man,” Torok said softly. “We still have much to discuss.” Tucker shook his head. “I can’t talk about that. I don’t know anything. I can’t…” “You can and you must. Don’t you see that this single event lies at the heart of your problems? It is the circumstances surrounding your grandparents’ death that you have been running from all these years.” “You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t there.” “According to your father, you were.” “No!” “Those memories are poisoning your katra. You cannot continue to ignore them.” There was a growing sense of desperation in Trip’s voice. “How can I tell you what I don’t know?” “I think you know the answer to that, young man.” Trip stared blankly at the high priest for a few moments, and then he tilted his head back as a wave of anguish passed over his face. “You’re talkin’ about another mind meld. That’s right, isn’t it?” “Yes. We must dig those memories out and expose them to the light of day. Then you can begin to heal.” “I don’t remember…,” Trip whispered frantically. “You can with my assistance, but you must be willing to try. Will you allow me to help you?” In that instant the Starfleet officer disappeared and in his place stood a frightened little boy. Trip’s blue eyes were filled with panic – pure mind-shattering fear. “Please don’t make me do this,” he whispered shakily. “They died in an accident…a long time ago.” Torok knew that, once started, there was no turning back. He had to fight his way past the boy to once again reach the man. “I will not force you, but you know what has to be done. It is your future that I am trying to secure. When you were a child you refused to allow anyone to help you, but you are no longer a child. You know that you have struggled on your own. Why did you remain at the Sanctuary if you refuse to accept the help I can give?” Trip shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around his body. “Think about your life with T’Pol.” Trip stared at him numbly. “T’Pol?” “Your bondmate. Think what your uncontrolled emotions are doing to her.” Torok nudged the commander’s leg with his cane. “Sit down and listen to what I have to say.” When Trip failed to respond, Torok continued on. “I have seen your courage, young man. I know you do not run from trouble. Now pick up your chair and sit down.” Torok watched with interest as Trip dropped his head and pressed his lips together. When he raised his head a few moments later, the frightened little boy had disappeared and the man was once again in control. Without further protest, Trip reached down and righted his chair. When he was seated, Torok caught his eye, ensuring that he had his full attention. “Do you agree to do this, young man? Will you let me help you find the source of your pain once and for all?” The muscles in Trip’s jaw worked furiously, but he remained silent. “If you will not do this for yourself, do it for T’Pol. For better or worse, her life is now joined to yours.” “You sure don’t play fair,” Trip murmured resignedly as his shoulders sagged and he slumped back in his chair. “I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?” He glanced off to the left, but Torok was still able to catch the look of utter desolation in his eyes. “All right. Go ahead.” After studying him carefully for a few moments, the high priest picked up one of the cups and placed it before Trip. “I want you to drink this, young man.” Torok picked up the other cup and drank. Trip eyed the high priest warily. “Why are you giving this to me now? What’s in it?” “Your cup contains tea, but it is a special blend that will help you to relax. As you can see, I drink it myself. I find it useful when conditions make it difficult for me to achieve a meditative state.” Trip looked at the cup skeptically. “You want to drug me?” “This mind meld will be difficult. It is absolutely essential for you to be as relaxed as possible. If it will ease your mind, Soval consulted the doctor on your ship. The tea will not harm you.” Trip slowly picked up his cup and examined the contents. Finally, he took a sip, grimacing slightly when the cup parted from his lips. “I think I’d rather have that beer, if ya don’t mind.” “Finish it, young man.” When the cup was empty, Torok said, “You must listen to me carefully. Your memories are buried very deep. If I use too much force, I could do irreparable damage your brain. I need your full cooperation. Do you understand?” Trip nodded his head. “Let’s just get it over with.” Torok picked up the cups and set them aside. “Move your chair closer. Good. Now you must relax and let me in. Do not try to erect any mental barriers. Do you understand, Commander?” Trip nodded. “A nod is not sufficient. Do you understand what you must do?” “Yes, sir.” Torok looked into Trip’s eyes and tried to offer some measure of reassurance. “It will be all right, young man. We will get through this together.” With that said he placed his left hand on Tucker’s face and began the ancient chant. Torok was pleased that the connection was made more swiftly than the previous day. With Tucker’s full cooperation, he moved swiftly through the young human’s mind, ignoring the chaos and heightened emotions that swirled around him. He knew that he was approaching his destination when he spied the ominous dark shadows that screened the area where Trip hid away his bitterest memories. Pushing through the shadows, he caught sight of the barrier and abruptly came to a halt. Overnight the barrier had been fortified, making it even more impenetrable; the walls were now thicker and stronger with rugged protrusions to discourage entry. “Relax young man,” his mind spoke soothingly. “I only want to help. You must let me in.” He surveyed the barrier carefully, but failed to find a weak spot. Resigned that there was no easy way to accomplish his task, he pushed against the barrier once, twice, and then over and over again. Soon chips and cracks began to appear in the surface, but the barrier remained intact. “Relax.” There was a growing urgency in Torok’s message. “Accept that these memories exist and let me in. Do not fight me.” His mind once again surged forward against the barrier, but this time Trip’s body shuddered and the young man cried out in pain. Torok knew he should end this, but he could feel that he was finally close to achieving his goal. Before he broke the meld and accepted defeat, he decided to try one more time. Channeling his energy, he decided to focus on a single tiny spot that appeared to be vulnerable. His mind surged forward, striking the small spot with great force, and suddenly the barrier shattered. His initial feelings of relief were quickly tempered, however, when he became aware of Trip’s agonized screams. Torok took a split second to assess the damage. Tucker was semi-conscious, his head leaning heavily against the high priest’s hand. Torok could detect no permanent damage, but the trauma the destruction of the barrier had caused was significant. Quickly, he blanketed Trip’s mind with calm, soothing thoughts. “Breathe deeply, young man. You know the proper technique. I will give you all the help that I can.” Trip’s response was sluggish, but finally he did respond. Slowly, with the two men working together, Trip’s breathing and heart rate steadied. The pain was still intense, but the only remedy for that was an analgesic or a sedative and, at the moment, that was not an option. Finally, Torok’s patience was rewarded when he felt Tucker’s mind stir to full consciousness. “I regret the pain I caused you, young man,” his mind spoke sincerely. “Remember that no matter what happens, no matter what you may see, I will be with you. You will not be alone.” Trip’s mental response was weak, but the message left no doubt as to his inner strength. “You just did what had to be done. I’ll be fine.” “Are you prepared to move forward?” Trip’s mind paused before answering. “I guess so. I can’t hide from the truth forever.” Torok once again flooded the young human’s mind with calm, reassuring thoughts, and then everything changed.
The small plane flew through the azure sky, white wings agleam in the late morning sun. Below, serpentine waterways sliced through the land, giving the Everglades the appearance of a giant patchwork quilt. Ahead, off in the distance, banks of white cumulus clouds stood watch over the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The day couldn’t have been any more ideal. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Trip announced enthusiastically. “Thanks, Grandpa!” “What about me, young man?” Trip turned his head and grinned at the pretty blond lady in the backseat. “Thanks, Grandma.” “I know I can’t compete with your grandpa’s fancy plane, but I do have a three-layer chocolate cake waiting for you when we get back home. That ought to count for something.” “With fudge frostin’ and marshmallows?” “Yes, dear. Just the way you like it.” “Watch where you’re goin’, Trip,” his grandfather warned. “Keep the wings straight and level. If you’re going to pilot a plane, you have to pay attention.” Trip glanced up at his grandfather with a healthy dose of reverence in his eyes, and then looked straight ahead. “Yes, sir.” Smiling, Joe reached over and gave his grandson’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. Trip’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm. “I can’t wait to tell mom and dad that I got to take off. Boy, will they be surprised.” Joe cast a nervous look at his wife before turning back to his grandson. “Um…maybe that’s something we should keep just between the three of us, Trip. What do you say?” “Well…okay, I guess.” Trip couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice. Joe reached over and thoroughly mussed his grandson’s hair. “Do you think we can trust your grandma to keep our secret? She sure does like to talk.” “I heard that!” Olivia’s shouted good-naturedly. Smiling, her husband looked over his shoulder and winked at her. His disappointment forgotten, Trip grinned happily as he concentrated on keeping the plane flying straight and level. Joe took a quick look at the charts and then leaned forward to check the instrument panel. His brown hair and carefully trimmed beard were now speckled with grey, but his hazel eyes still held a boyish gleam. “We’re going to have to change headings, son. You better let me take over now.” “Please, Grandpa,” Trip pleaded. “Just a little longer. I can change course. I did it before.” “We had a deal. I take over once we head north again. You’ve been flying this plane for a long time. It’s time to rest.” “Please.” “It’s his birthday, Joe.” Olivia leaned forward and placed a restraining hand on her husband’s shoulder. Her blue eyes, so like her grandson’s, were soft and gentle. “A man has to learn to keep his word, Livy,” Joe answered firmly. “Trip and I had an agreement.” “He’s ten years old. You can teach him about responsibility some other time.” Turning her attention to her grandson, she gently began combing her fingers through Trip’s hair, straightening the unruly mess her husband had left. “Are you sure you aren’t too tired, honey?” “I’m fine, Grandma.” Trip ducked his head away from her hand. “I bet I could fly this plane all the way home…” He glanced expectantly at his grandfather. “…and land it, too.” “Absolutely not,” Joe shook his head adamantly. “I may let you pilot this plane for a little while longer, but when it comes to landing…” Suddenly there was a sharp crack and the nose of the plane yawed to the right and dropped. Confused and frightened, Trip gripped the yoke and screamed, “Grandpa! What’d I do?” “Let go of the yoke, Trip,” Joe shouted as he struggled to regain control of the plane. Eyes wide with fear, Trip’s grip only tightened. “Let go damn it!” Joe barked. “Livy!” Olivia leaned forward and began to pull frantically on her grandson’s arm. “Trip! Let go!” Finally, his grandmother’s words penetrated and Trip jerked his hands away from the yoke as though it was red hot. Struggling, Joe managed to bring the nose up a bit, but the plane was still out of control and dropping fast. “Trip,” he shouted, “get in the back seat with your grandma and strap yourself in!” “No! I can help.” “Do as I say, son. Your grandma needs you.” “But…” “Now!” Joe yelled. “Move!” Trip scrambled over the seat and fastened his seatbelt. He could feel his grandma’s hands as she checked to be sure that he was securely belted in, but his eyes remained firmly fixed on his grandfather as he fought to control the plane. Trip heard the landing gear come down and then Joe yelled, “There’s a clearing ahead, but it’s gonna be tight! Livy, you and Trip keep your heads down! You hear?” “We’ll be fine!” she shouted back. The ground was coming up fast. Joe fought for control, but the plane refused to respond. “Heads down!” Just before that plane struck the ground, Olivia slipped her arm out of her shoulder harness and, leaning over, covered Trip with her upper body. The wheels bounced once and then the right wing dropped sending the plane into a cartwheel. Olivia screamed, tightening her grip on her grandson. The plane tumbled out of control until it slammed into two large trees and suddenly everything was silent. Trip whimpered softly as he regained consciousness. Feeling a bit nauseous, he wanted to move, but there was a weight on his back, holding him down. When he became aware that something wet was dripping down his neck and onto his knee, he squirmed frantically trying to break free. After several failed attempts, he managed to release the catch on his seatbelt, but the weight still held him in place. Struggling, he finally managed to wriggle down to the floor. The weight shifted as soon as he moved, but it took him a few moments to realize that it was his grandmother. Trip took hold of her arm and shook it gently. “Grandma?” He couldn’t see her face, but it was impossible to miss the ugly wound on the back of her head, red blood and bits of bone oozing through her blond hair. Part of the roof had collapsed, sending jagged pieces of metal to deal a killing blow. Trip stared uncomprehendingly at his grandmother’s body as her blood continued to drip steadily down on him. He shook her again, this time more forcefully, but she didn’t respond. “Livy. Trip.” Still unable to tear his eyes away from his grandmother’s body, Trip answered shakily, “I’m here, Grandpa.” “Are you hurt?” “I don’t think so.” “Get up here, son,” Joe called weakly. “I need help.” A sob caught in Trip’s throat. “I think Grandma’s dead.” “Hurry, Trip. I need you.” Trip shook himself and sniffed. “I’m comin’.” Squirming through the debris, he managed to reach his grandfather. Joe’s head and neck were bleeding, but he seemed to be unaware of those injuries. His attention was focused solely on the upper portion of his right arm, which had been sliced open to the bone. “Grandpa?” “I can’t…stop the bleeding. Remember your first…aid. Take off your shirt and…and press down.” For a moment, Trip stared in disbelief as the bright red blood spurted rhythmically through Joe’s fingers. A nudge from his grandfather brought him back to reality, and he quickly pulled his shirt over his head. “Fold your shirt and…” Joe weakly tried to take a deep breath. “…press down hard.” Trip quickly did as he was told, but the blood continued to flow. “It won’t stop!” Perspiration dotted Joe’s face and his breathing was becoming labored. “You can do it, but you…you’ve got to try harder.” “I’m tryin’, Grandpa!” Trip cried frantically as tears streamed down his face. “Harder,” Joe whispered. Know…you can do it. Trip…I lo…” Trip looked into his grandfather’s face and saw the light go out of his eyes. As Joe’s body slumped back, Trip tightened his grip on his grandfather’s arm. “Don’t die,” he murmured shakily. “I’ll try harder. Please don’t die.” Before long, when the flow of blood had stopped, Trip slowly released his grip on his grandfather’s arm. Joe’s eyes stared sightlessly at the roof of the plane; his face was unnaturally pale beneath the blood. Trip sniffed and ran a trembling hand over his tear-stained cheeks. “Grandpa?” he whispered in a bewildered tone. The only answering sound was the call of a marsh bird off in the distance. Fighting down a growing sense of panic, he suddenly leaned over and shook his grandfather’s shoulders. “Wake up, Grandpa!” There was no response as Joe’s head rolled lifelessly to the left. Throwing his arms around his grandfather, Trip buried his face in Joe’s chest and sobbed, “I love you, Grandpa. Please, don’t leave me.” After a while, when there were no more tears to be shed, Trip straightened up and looked around. There was blood everywhere. He had to get away. He threw his weight against the passenger door again and again, but it refused to open. With his grandfather’s body blocking the pilot’s door, he had no choice but to climb through the broken front windshield. Clutching his bloody shirt and oblivious to the shards of broken glass that cut into his hands and legs, he crawled out onto the crumpled nose of the plane and slid gracelessly to the ground. Dazed, he looked around, but there were only unending miles of trees and swamp land in every direction. He started to walk, but he only managed to go a few yards before he stumbled over a log. Picking himself up, he sat down and wiped his nose on his forearm. His eyes caught sight of the bloody shirt in his hand and, startled, he threw it away. Frantically he began to wipe his hands back and forth over his shorts, but no matter how hard he worked, he couldn’t remove the blood from his hands. Finally, as he began to retreat further and further from the real world, he began to shiver. Staring numbly at the broken plane in front of him, he wrapped his arms around his body and slowly began to rock back and forth. Only the birds flying overhead bore witness as he began to mumble over and over, “I’m so sorry. All my fault. I’m so sorry.”
“It is over, young man,” Torok’s mind whispered softly. “Now we must begin to make sense of what we have just seen.” Instead of a controlled, logical response, the high priest felt Trip’s body tense, and then a towering wave of white-hot emotion engulfed them both. Nothing in Torok’s life – not even the mind meld from the previous day – had prepared him for this soul-searing mixture of guilt, fear, and sorrow. In self-defense, he struggled to send calm, consoling thoughts to the young human, but they were immediately swept away half-formed. Through the tumult, he became aware that Trip’s mind was already working desperately to rebuild the barrier. “No!” Torok shouted mentally into the whirlwind. “You can no longer hide from the truth! Face your grief!” Immediately, he could feel Trip start to pull away from him. “Stand and fight, young man! I cannot fight for you!” Suddenly, Torok could feel Trip’s pain escalate. Before he could respond, he felt Trip’s body shudder and go limp. Almost immediately, the chaotic emotions began to abate to a more manageable level. Withdrawing from the mind meld, Torok took a moment to collect himself. Thoroughly shaken, he covered his face with his hands and worked to control his breathing. The experience had left him drained both physically and mentally. He needed to meditate at once. When he lowered his hands, he was distressed to see that, even though the commander was unconscious, his face still bore traces of his anguish. “Dr. Marrek,” Torok called weakly, “I need you.” Seconds later he heard someone enter the chamber. Looking up, he saw T’Pol cross the room and take up a position next to the unconscious human. It was readily apparent to the high priest that she had been unable to shield herself completely from her bondmate’s distress. The tightness around her mouth and eyes were clear indications of her struggle to control her emotions. “I did not expect to see you here,” Torok said, struggling to regain his normal tone of voice. Reaching over Trip’s body, T’Pol gently began to rearrange his head and arms so that they rested more comfortably on the table. “My place is with Commander Tucker,” she answered tensely. “Where else would I be?” Torok was preparing to summon the doctor again, when he saw her mounting the four steps into the south chamber. Turning to face the high priest, she asked, “How may I be of assistance?” As soon as T’Pol heard Marrek’s voice, her head whipped around. She immediately stretched her arm protectively over Trip’s back and glared at the doctor. Somewhat surprised by T’Pol’s defensive stance, Torok said, “T’Pol, this is Doctor Marrek. She has just assumed the post of primary physician for the Sanctuary. I asked her to stand by in case her services were required. I would like her to take a look at Commander Tucker. I believe he is in some distress.” T’Pol remained silent, her eyes fixed warily on the doctor. Apparently sensing T’Pol’s distrust, the doctor refrained from moving further into the room. “Please allow me to tend to the commander,” Marrek said calmly. T’Pol’s only response was to dig her fingers into Trip’s shoulder as she tightened her grip. True to her Vulcan heritage, Marrek’s face displayed no hint of emotion, but her dark brown eyes were surprisingly lustrous and expressive. Blessed with a bright mind and tremendous powers of concentration, she had begun studying medicine at an early age, and had since advanced rapidly in her chosen profession. One look at her confirmed Torok’s belief that she understood the situation and could handle it. “I spent five years studying medicine on Earth,” Marrek reassured T’Pol. “I will not harm him.” Completely disregarding the doctor, T’Pol turned her attention to Torok. “When will this end?” she asked tightly. “Commander Tucker has done everything you asked, but he is no better now than when he arrived. Look at him. He does not deserve this.” Taken aback by her reproach, Torok said, “I am only doing what is necessary to help the commander regain his health. You must trust me.” “He is human. How can you be sure that you are not hurting him?” “I have seen his thoughts, his memories. In some ways, I know him better than he knows himself. I assure you, T’Pol, he has the strength to get through this. The mind meld will do him no lasting harm.” “His problems cannot be solved in a day,” T’Pol challenged. “Humans are not…” Torok slammed his cane against the floor, his control at an end. “The strategic talks will not wait while you coddle him, T’Pol. The Romulan threat is real. Commander Tucker understands that and the lengths the Romulans are willing to go to defeat us. He must be present at the talks.” T’Pol’s eyes widened, but she continued to argue her point. “Captain Archer and Admirals Gardner and Uhlani will speak for Earth. There is little Trip can do...” “Enough,” Torok snapped. “You, of all people, should know what this young man is capable of doing when he puts his mind to a task.” The high priest closed his eyes and raised a trembling hand to his head. This was intolerable. “I must meditate,” he murmured, feeling every one of his 191 years. Slowly, he rose from his chair and looked down at Trip. “I thought I was prepared, but…” He pressed his lips together and took a deep, ragged breath. “No one could be prepared for such a devastating experience,” T’Pol whispered. “Indeed.” “Do you also require my services?” the doctor asked, looking with concern at the high priest. “Meditation will take care of my needs,” Torok answered firmly. He took a moment to square his shoulders and lift his chin. Already deeply disturbed by his loss of control, he was determined not to allow himself to appear weak or vulnerable. “I wish to remain undisturbed for three hours. T’Pol, I suggest you meditate as well.” “I will remain with Commander Tucker,” T’Pol stated firmly. “He must not be alone when he awakens.” “Do what you feel is necessary, but allow Marrek to do her job.” This time Torok refused to surrender to his growing impatience and softened his tone. “She is not like Doctor Kaal. You do not have to be concerned for the commander’s safety.” Whether it was his tone of voice or his words, Torok was gratified to see T’Pol release her grip on the commander’s shoulder and take a step back, signifying her acceptance of Marrek’s help. Without further ado, Torok moved past Doctor Marrek, down the steps, and across the wellhouse to the north chamber. This time he knew that it was going to take more that than the sound of running water to calm his katra. |
Like it? Hate it? Just want to point out a typo? Join the discussion now.
Disclaimer: Star Trek in all its various forms and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit. This site is owned by CX and was opened to the public in February 2008.