Star Trek: Outwardly Mobile

Episode # 35 The Vulcan Counterpoint

(Stardate 49276)

By

Jay P. Hailey

and

The Star Trek Players

 

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

A driving curiosity bored Miriah's mind.

"Who are you?" is at best a feeble translation of the mental force that swept her. It included "What has happened in your life that you find yourself at this point?" and "What are you doing here?" Miriah fought the tide. Her mind was surprisingly strong, but the force would not be denied. Miriah found herself remembering.

2276: Nissus

Miriah skipped down the road. Behind her lay her house. All the wonders that six-year-old Miriah could reach from the floor had been explored. Now she was on to the next thing. Her neighborhood. Most often Miriah wanted to meet the bigger children who played in the streets in the afternoons. They disappeared in the mornings and early afternoon, off to something called "school". Miriah was curious about that, too.

There was a boy playing in the front yard of a house. He was the same size as Miriah, with dark hair, pale greenish skin and delicately swept ears like a Vulcan's.

"Hello!" Miriah yelled. When she was outside Miriah perceived no need to moderate herself or her voice.

The boy looked at her for a moment and then grinned. "Hello!" He shouted back. "What's your name?"

"I am Miriah Katasai!" Miriah shouted. It seemed important to bellow this fact so that everyone in the neighborhood might know it. Her father had spoken of the great Klingon houses at one time. Miriah faked it. "That's my house!" She waved at her starting point.

The boy blinked and then shouted back. "I am Sean Deaver! This is my house!"

With this business settled, Miriah's aggressive nature asserted herself. She closed in. "What are you doing?"

"Uh," Sean waved a toy at Miriah "just playing... Do you want to play?"

"No. I am exploring the world." Miriah said. She knew that the planet Nissus was a big place. She figured that exploring it would take the whole day, if not two. She eyed Sean. "Do you want to come?"

Sean didn't even have to think about it. "Sure!" He grinned. Exploring the world sounded like a lot more fun than playing with the same old toy in the same old yard.

"Then let's go!" Miriah turned and moved towards the mountains that rose to the east of the city.

Sean hurried to catch up.

They caught the procession of small children in the foothills that evening. Explanations and punishments were handed out. Miriah couldn't understand why her explanation of her plan made her father laugh. New limits were imposed. Miriah started chaffing at them as soon as all the noise and emotion died down. Some day she would explore the world and go beyond the mountains.

-*-

2278: Nissus

Miriah, age eight, put her canteen on and slipped her knife into its sheath on her belt. It was time for her Khas-wan. The Khas-wan was a Vulcan ritual. Miriah didn't think that it was at all odd that she should be taking part in it.

"Remember that the lematayas are territorial. If you are confronted back away slowly." Korsal said.

Miriah nodded resignedly. It was the third time that he had said that.

Seela, Korsal's Green Orion wife simply watched with a worried look on her face.

Sevan, the administrator of the test said. "It is time. Proceed."

Miriah ran off into the woods at the foothills of the mountains.

Seela watched her go.

"She will do fine." Korsal said confidently. "You were correct. I was not logical in trying to prevent her."

Seela said nothing. Logic be damned, she was worried about Miriah.

The Khas-wan on Nissus was a seven-day trek through the mountains with nothing but a single canteen and a knife. It was Vulcan ritual held over from the days before Surak when the Vulcans were a warrior race. It was a test of strength, ingenuity and survival skills. Those who passed would eventually grow into breeding adults. An adult Vulcan who could not pass a Khas-wan would be unable to mate. Miriah took the test as a substitute for the early rite of ascension, the Klingon ritual designed to separate the Warriors from the common man. All the participants carried emergency beacons and adults from the community monitored the course from air-cars.

Miriah ran happily through the woods. Until today she had always been in supervised groups learning about the mountains and wilderness of Nissus. Now she was on her own and she was finally getting her chance to conquer the mountains.

On the first day Miriah simply jogged. She let nothing stop her. She passed several other children. They weren't intent on motion but survival so they walked slowly to try and preserve their energy.

By that afternoon Miriah was getting hungry but she didn't let it stop her. By the time night fell, Miriah was well back in the foothills. Searching diligently, she discovered a few roots that her survival teacher said were edible, but you couldn't prove it by Miriah.

The next morning Miriah was sore and very hungry, but the mountains were still there challenging her. She began to move again. By that afternoon, the roots seemed much more appetizing to her. Miriah's water was beginning to run low, but finding a suitable creek with fresh water running down the mountain was no challenge.

That evening, Miriah found some berries, but not enough of them. She was very hungry and a little angry. She promised herself that the mountains weren't going to win that easily.

She made a nest in the crook of a tree and settled into a light doze.

Suddenly she was wide-awake. There was a smell. Miriah sniffed carefully. She didn't exactly recognize the smell, but her hunger drove her. Whatever it was it smelled small, furry and delicious.

Miriah crept along on cat feet in the darkness. Soon she caught sight of the thing she smelled. It was a squirrel. Miriah moved very slowly, afraid to even breathe. She slipped up quietly to the small creature. She eased her knife out of its sheath. She closed in. Within arms reach of the squirrel Miriah screamed and leaped.

The squirrel easily evaded her and ran for its life. Miriah screamed in frustration.

After a two more tries, Miriah discovered that she could cripple a squirrel by throwing a big rock at it. A meal of injured, crushed raw squirrel tasted like heaven to Miriah.

-*-

A summer storm rolled into the foothills and caused most of the participants to drop out of the Khas-wan that year. Miriah didn't. She weathered the storm and continued.

-*-

Miriah reached the end of the Khas-wan course two days ahead of schedule. She was looking farther into the mountains, her teeth bared. She wanted to make it to the top of the range. She was angry and disappointed. The Khas-wan course was only a fraction of the distance to where she wanted to go.

Sevan stared blankly at her. Her face was smeared with dried red blood. Miriah's blood was green. Her hair was matted and her clothes were dirty and torn. She was grinning up at the top of the mountain range, but it didn't look like a human smile. There was a challenge in it.

Korsal and Seela stepped forward to gather their daughter. Seela stopped and stared. Korsal continued.

"Miriah, you're done. Relax. Calm down and look at me." Korsal carefully stayed out of range. He was almost grinning with delight himself. Miriah's Klingon heritage was strong.

"I didn't make it!" Miriah snarled in frustration.

Korsal looked at the point where Miriah's gaze was focused. He understood then. "The top?"

Miriah nodded quickly.

"Now that you know what you have set yourself, you will be able to reach it, next time." Korsal said. "We both will."

Miriah threw herself into her father's arms crying. She was afraid of what she had become in the forest. She was happy to have made through the Khas-wan. She was beyond happy that her father understood and was willing to help her meet the challenge. Eventually she was taken home and cleaned up. With a good night's sleep at home and a solid meal in her she soon became the Miriah that everyone remembered. Korsal could see the added light in her eyes. He would have to take her out again into the woods and teach her the proper ways to hunt and fight. He was happy. His daughter was a true Klingon.

-*-

Over the course of the next three months, Korsal coached Miriah in the Way of the Warrior. Sometimes Miriah would take off into the woods and be gone for days at a time. When she returned she was welcomed almost without comment.

Once Korsal came home to find the house empty. There was a hand written note on the table in the family dining room. It was in Seela's graceful hand.

Korsal,

Miriah has gone off into the woods again. I am going with her this time. There is food in the freezer. Take care of yourself until our return.

Love, Seela.

Korsal opened the kitchen's freezer to find that Seela had prepared and stored several meals. He would be provided for while they were gone.

-*-

Miriah was in a clearing breathing deeply. She absorbed the smell of the forest. It was her home. She was coming to know it intimately. There was a new smell. She turned to track it, only to find her mother entering the clearing. She didn't recognize the smell of the Green Orion pheromones out of context.

"Hello, mother." Miriah said. What was her mother doing here?

"Miriah. I enjoy watching you in the forest. You enjoy it so." Seela said.

"Yes, I do." Miriah sheepishly admitted. Was her mother feeling rejected? Miriah had been acting awfully Klingon lately. It was almost an effort to remember that there was Green Orion in her.

"Good." Seela smiled. "We are a sensuous people. Your sense of smell is Klingon but your enjoyment of it is like a Green."

"Really?" Miriah was taken aback.

"Oh, yes. Korsal doesn't disappear into the woods. Kevin and Karl didn't." Seela pointed out. "They enjoy the outdoors but they don't relish it like you do."

"Hmmm." Miriah thought about it.

"I have been reluctant to teach you about what it means to be a Green Orion woman." Seela said. "The Golden Orions use what we are callously and cheaply. But being sensual creatures doesn't have to be cheap or tawdry."

Miriah looked at her mother. Truthfully, what her mother said confused her. Miriah was not yet physically mature. Her body did not produce pheromones. There some doubt about whether she would.

"Listen carefully to the sounds and rhythms of this forest." Seela said. She closed her eyes and listened. "Nissus makes a music of its own, doesn't it? Listen."

Miriah closed her eyes and listened. She heard the breeze through the trees. She heard the calls of the animals. The more she concentrated the more she heard. Soon she thought she could hear the rhythms and the music. She opened her eyes, smiling, only to find that her mother had stripped and was dancing in the clearing. Miriah watched fascinated. Seela was dancing to the music that Nissus made for her. She was perfectly on beat and in tune. It was like poetry or music, only with motion instead of noise.

Miriah was entranced.

"Dance, child. Let the music take you." Seela said quietly.

Miriah joined her mother in the dance.

Over the next two days, Miriah taught her mother the finer points of survival on Nissus. Seela told Miriah stories about what it was like to grow up Green in the Orion Colonies. She sang the ancient songs that have been passed from generation to generation among the Green Orions. She told the ancient stories. Miriah didn't really understand them all, but she listened carefully.

-*-

Kevin Katasai came home on leave. He was Miriah's oldest brother. He was Korsal's son from a previous marriage. He was an engineer in Starfleet. He worked on Earth designing the ships that Starfleet Officers would fly in the next generation.

After careful questioning, Korsal decided that the three of them would make the attempt on the peak of Miriah's mountain range.

The hike out to the mountains was filled with catch up time for Korsal, Kevin and Miriah.

"Things are getting worse on Earth." Kevin said sadly.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Korsal said. "I had hoped that we would be setting the trend here on Nissus."

"That would be nice. However, tensions between the Empire and the Federation are getting worse. There's talk of war eventually." Kevin said.

"Does this tension affect you?" Korsal asked.

"Yes. I was removed from my previous project. I am now working on a new design for exploration cruisers." Kevin said.

"Can you talk about this new project?" Korsal asked.

"Yes. It is not as highly classified as the last one." Kevin said.

"That's good. Tell me of it."

"The new ships will called the Constellation class. They're been named for the ship that the Doomsday Machine destroyed. Something of a living memorial." Kevin said.

"It's a good one." Korsal observed.

Later Korsal told Kevin. "I will be visiting the home world soon."

"Qo'noS?" Kevin asked. He'd never been there.

"Yes. My father grows old and the line of succession to our house must be settled." Korsal said.

"Oh. Will Seela and Miriah go with you?" Kevin asked.

"Yes. You and Karl are also welcome. You know that." Korsal replied.

"I doubt I could get permission from Starfleet Command." Kevin said. "Perhaps Karl can get free."

"Hmmm." Korsal said.

-*-

At the top of the mountain, after a hard week's climb, they planted a flag. It was an old custom among races whose planets had mountains.

The flag the planted was designed by Miriah and Korsal. Nissus didn't have a flag. Their design was a blue field with a globe in the center. The globe was a map of Nissus. Along the outer edge, the symbols of each race present on Nissus were arranged. The Vulcan IDIC symbol was at the top center position with the symbols of the Klingon Empire and the United Federation of Planets on either side.

After the hard climb, they were exhausted, but Miriah began leaping up and down and screaming at the top of the mountain. Soon Korsal and Kevin joined her, whooping and shouting. They could see all they way down the mountain and into the city. It looked like a toy.

Miriah shouted "I made it!"

-*-

The small merchant vessel was cramped and smelled of sweaty spaceman and electronics. Miriah found herself glued to the windows. She watched Nissus fade away. As they warped out of the system, Miriah realized that each of the dots in the sky around them was a star with it's own planets. Miriah became almost unbearably curious about them. They became her new mountains to climb.

For the rest of the trip Miriah alternated between pestering the crew with questions and gluing her nose to the view ports.

An accident awaited them. Sixty years spent in suspended animation while tension rose and then ebbed between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. It was only after the treaty and the alliance that the neutral zone between the two nations became well traveled enough for someone to stumble across the old trader with burned out engines.

That didn't matter to Miriah. Starfleet was still there, and her eventual course was set. Maybe she would even serve on a ship that Kevin designed.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

The force subsided. Miriah was back in herself. She had learned things about the way she thought by watching her past with the Vulcan telepath.

"That was interesting. It was like standing outside and watching from a different perspective." Miriah commented.

"This is a standard telepathic treatment tool." The Vulcan telepath said. "Watching one's past from a neutral perspective allows a more objective view of past events."

Miriah struck the counselor, who flopped out of her chair onto the floor. "And that's for forcing me." Miriah snarled.

The telepath sparkled and was transported out of the cell.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

A driving curiosity bored into Kevin Mitchell's mind. The Captain of the Starship Endeavor resisted, but the force behind the curiosity was formidable. His resistance soon crumbled and Mitchell found himself remembering...

2332 SS. Ranger

Kevin Mitchell age five bounced inside his EVA bubble. It was a transparent aluminum bubble just more than two meters wide. There was a thick black line running around the equator of the bubble where it joined together. One quadrant of the bubble a mechanical box was attached. it was the life support system.

Ordinarily these types of devices were used for emergency evacuation from starships. In this case it was a way for John and Elane Mitchell to take their son out on an EVA with them.

They exited the air lock and began to move across the hull of the free trader Ranger towards their working spot. As they came around the corner of the ship, John and Elane stopped and stared. Soon the bubble containing Kevin drifted out to where he could see what they were looking at.

The entire Phoenix Nebula spread out before him. Millions of different shades of color fluoresced in the giant cloud of gas. Kevin was transfixed. It was easily one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. Kevin stared for hours while his Mother and Father eventually got hold of themselves and completed their repair.

Then in small groups each of the crew came out and saw the nebula with their nearly naked eyes. Kevin stayed out until every one had come and gone. He was dragged back into the airlock reluctantly. The naked eye sight of the nebula was a prominent feature of dreams for the rest of his life.

2335: Planet Lungold

Kevin left the ship timidly. It took a little while to get the nerve up. The Ranger was grounded at the spaceport. The planet Lungold maintained a shirt sleeve environment all over it, but it still took an effort for Kevin to walk out of the airlock of the ship with no space suit on.

Selak, the ship's Captain was away bargaining for the Ranger's next cargo and the rest of the crew took the opportunity to get some shore leave.

Kevin wasn't used to shore leave yet. Mother, Father and the rest of the crew said that shore leave was the most fun time for a spacer, but Kevin wasn't sure.

Elaine and John were exploring the planet Lungold from a new perspective. They had never tried to have a shore leave that was suitable for an eight-year-old before. Fortunately, Lungold was a well settled and populous Federation planet and held a good number of things for a family to do.

They left the shelter of the Ranger and moved towards the spaceport gate.

Kevin gazed at the sky above them. They explained that gravity held the air of Lungold in place, but the explanation smacked of magic to Kevin. It simply didn't make much sense.

Looking around, Kevin could see no end to that particular section of Lungold city. There was no segmentation, no compartmentalization to limit damage. Kevin grew dizzy at the though of how much cubic area there was. All of it just sort of there. The dull roar of the city suddenly made sense to Kevin. It wasn't air circulators or motors humming. It was cars and machines and people moving. Thousands and thousands of people with no suits and no bulkheads between them and what ever just decided to happen.

Just as Kevin was getting a handle on this alien environment, a breeze swept by. To Kevin a breeze could only mean one thing. All the air in that area was suddenly moving.

Kevin screamed "Hull breach!!" at the top of his lungs and pelted back for the Ranger as fast as he could go. He expected to be swept away by the ever strengthening rush of air at any moment. Kevin cried at the thought. If he was lucky, he could reach the Ranger and seal the lock before he was swept away and killed.

Kevin dashed into the lock and by reflex turned with his hand on the button to slam the door closed after the people following reached safety.

His mother was halfway back to the ship, while the rest of the crew was still at the gate, laughing uproariously.

Kevin saw the wind ruffling his mother's hair. She ignored it, pressing towards him with a concerned look on her face.

Kevin's mind was overwhelmed with new sensations, adrenaline and the impossible sights before him. It decided that enough was enough. Kevin fainted.

Kevin didn't see much of Lungold. Some of the crew nicknamed him "Hull Breach" but it didn't last long. Spacers don't joke about such things.

Eventually Kevin was counseled for agoraphobia. In time, unreasoning fear was reduced to simple dislike.

2337 SS Ranger.

"Kevin. I have bad news." Selak said. The Vulcan man was quiet and sad. Kevin knew that Vulcans didn't show their emotions like humans. Kevin had grown up with Selak. He knew the man as well as he knew his own parents.

"What?" Kevin's voice caught in his throat. What bad news could the free trader's captain have to deliver that couldn't be better delivered by his own parents?

"It's your parents, Kevin. They have died in an accident." Selak said.

Things got vague for Kevin for a little bit. When he remembered again clearly, he found himself clinging to Selak with tears running down his face. Selak's arms were gently around him.

Kevin detached himself from the Vulcan. "I..I'm sorry." Kevin said. He never touched Selak unless invited. It was very rude.

Selak looked at him for a moment. Kevin could see a line of green around the merchant captain's eyes. "The cause was sufficient."

That meant that it was okay.

"Will you be all right for a while?" Selak asked.

Kevin thought about it. Nothing was ever going to be all right again. What difference did it make if Selak was here or there? What difference did it make if Kevin was here or there, alone or not? It would change nothing.

"Yeah. I suppose so." Kevin mumbled.

"I will return shortly." Selak said. He exited the quarters.

Kevin stood there for quite some time, unable to assimilate the news.

-*-

"Are you sure this is what you want, Kevin?" Ben asked. He was a powerfully built human with a shock of white hair.

Kevin nodded. He couldn't bear to be separated from the only home and the only family he had ever known.

"I don't know." Lyla said. She was a thin woman with a dancer's grace and gray hair with patterns in it. "This isn't an orphanage, this isn't a cruise ship. This is our job. I don't want to neglect our jobs to take care of Kevin, and I'd hate to neglect Kevin."

"I'll be good." Kevin promised. "I'll learn a job and pull my weight."

"Is it that important to you?" Lyla asked.

"Yes!" Kevin cried.

The crew of the Ranger voted to keep Kevin with them. It caused a few problems with social service people until Kevin's uncle arrived.

Mark Mitchell spent a cruise on the Ranger, pulling his weight as a member of the crew. Kevin got to know him and accept him as a junior member of the crew. Mark Mitchell had some interesting stories and tales of new places.

When the cruise was over, Ben asked Mark "Well, how did you like being a working spacer instead of a pampered Starfleet explorer?"

"It was interesting. I understand more now about why my brother and his wife did this." Mark said. He never understood before why they retired from Starfleet rather than accepting a ground post when they discovered that they were pregnant. He had a better respect for the crews of merchant ships now.

"Well, what about Kevin?" Ben asked.

"I don't have any place to put him. We'd have to take a ground assignment, and

from what the Captain tells me, that would be a bigger adjustment for him than

for me. If he wants to stay here and you have no problem with that, then It's

fine with me." Mark said.

Ben found that despite his better judgment, he was rooting for Kevin to stay with the Ranger. He grinned. "Okay. I'll tell Kevin."

Mark Mitchell left the right paperwork to make Kevin a ward of the SS Ranger.

2345: SS Ranger

The alien ship was quiet. Kevin almost thought he could hear it whispering to him. He drifted towards it in his thruster suit. Other explorers might have beamed over to it and saved themselves the trouble of a space walk. Kevin talked Selak out of this course of action using the logic that the transporter might have unexpected effects on the artifact. Really it was because he wanted to get a sense of the complete artifact. He drifted closer carried by his own momentum.

The alien derelict was a collection of tubes and bulbs. The sensors of the SS Ranger revealed that the strange metal of the hull had been woven and spun, not forged and shaped. The sensors were also unable to determine how old the object was. It seemed to be at least a billion years old.

Kevin drifted towards an opening. It seemed to be an airlock. As he drifted closer, he could see that they were half right. The object had been a hatch before being struck by a piece of debris.

Kevin drifted into the broken hatch. He entered the lock and stopped there, shining his suit lights around.

The basic design was repeated inside the ship. It seemed vaguely insectoid. All the hatches were the same size and shape.

"I'm going further in." Kevin said

"Be careful, Kevin. If anything looks dangerous then back out immediately." Selak said.

"Yes, Sir." Kevin said.

He entered the next chamber. The alien ship wasn't big, just a little bigger than the Ranger itself.

As Kevin entered the ship, he lost the communications signal. Kevin froze for a few moments. The hull must be blocking the signal. Nothing seemed amiss, so Kevin kept going.

The room was circular and there were the ruins of furniture and control panels of some sort there. Kevin didn't know exactly what to make of it. He couldn't tell how exactly the room had come to be in it's present condition. Every step he took knocked a cloud of dust up. It hung swirling in the zero-G environment.

Then a crackling came over the communicator. A flash of light startled Kevin.

A hologram appeared. A woman dressed in a white gown. She was humanoid, but not human.

"I don't know who you are who is hearing this..." She began.

Kevin turned to see a holographic sea of stars. It depicted a galaxy. Was it the Milky Way? Andromeda? Kevin knew his Astrogation, but couldn't place it. It didn't seem to be either one.

"We seeded the oceans of worlds across our galaxy. These seeds eventually became you, our children."

Kevin saw the view of the odd galaxy zoom in. A path was traced in the strange galaxy.

"You are a monument, not to our greatness, but simply to our existence." The woman finished.

The holographic representation of stars disappeared.

Kevin noticed that while he was struggling to understand the map and the message, the alien derelict became unstable.

The circular corridors were bending and twisting. Kevin turned, trying to orient himself to thrust out of the wreck. He over-spun and had to waste precious time compensating. He touched the deck and through the boot of his space suit, he could hear the groans and crackles of the ancient hull falling

apart. Dust was everywhere, obscuring his vision.

Then Kevin could see naked space. He rotated and began to thrust for the open space.

The comm system crackled again and Selak's voice came on. "Kevin. What is your status? Please respond." Kevin could hear the strain carefully concealed by Vulcan logic."

"Kevin here. I'm fine. What happened?"

Kevin's ears were assaulted by the sounds of Selak trying to logically explain while Ben cursed a blue streak and promised mass mayhem.

"If you EVER disappear on us like that again, you dumb, illiterate tourist, I'll stir your god damned brains with a stick!" Ben raged

"The Alien vessel became dynamically unstable once you were aboard..." Selak explained.

The alien derelict had collapsed into junk. Sections and chunks drifted away from Kevin as he hung and listened to the confusion.

Kevin puzzled over the message and the map. He hadn't been able to pay adequate attention to either one. He looked at his tricorder intending to rerun the recording and pay special attention.

The tricorder was dark, its power switch safely in the off position. Kevin had forgotten it.

"No!" He shouted. "It's not fair!!"

-*-

A Starfleet ship eventually came and gathered in the alien wreckage. The Captain and the Chief Science Officer were vocal and harsh in their criticism. They believed that Kevin and the Ranger's inept fumblings had destroyed the derelict.

After comprehensive interviews, the Ranger was invited to leave the area.

-*-

Two weeks later, Selak found Kevin on duty overhauling the spare phase inducers.

"Kevin. I have good news." Selak said.

"Yes, Sir?" Kevin asked.

"Your application to Starfleet Academy has been accepted." Selak said.

Kevin was stunned. "I haven't even transmitted it yet!"

"I took the liberty of transmitting it for you." Selak said.

"You what?" Kevin was shocked. "Why?"

Selak looked at Kevin thoughtfully. That was Selak's expression for "How do I phrase this?"

"It is time that you moved on and sought further education." Selak said.

"You're kicking me off the ship?" Kevin was horrified.

"No. However, this is not all that you are capable of. You should seek greater challenges and greater horizons. The Ranger is your home, but children can not stay in the home forever." Selak said gently.

"I haven't even decided if I want to join Starfleet." Kevin mumbled looking at the deck.

"There is no better place for you to attend higher schooling while you decide." Selak reasoned.

"What if I wanted to go to the Vulcan Science Academy?" Kevin challenged. The idea didn't occur to him until right that moment. It wasn't about education either.

"Kevin, be reasonable. Your mother and father were in Starfleet. Your uncle was in Starfleet. In doing research into your family history I have learned that you have had ancestors in Starfleet almost since it was founded. It is your family tradition. I would be remiss if I let you fail to at least consider it rationally." Selak said.

Kevin raised his hands. "All right. I promise to consider it rationally."

Selak looked mellow. "Thank you. I don't believe you will regret that decision."

Kevin returned to his work but his mind wasn't on it. His mind was on finding a way to stay with the Ranger.

-*-

The Ranger was thrown violently by the attack. Kevin picked himself up off the deck and ran for his emergency station. Alarms were screaming. The lights were out and the red emergency lights gave everything a hellish glow.

"Mr. Wong, stabilize the warp core." Selak said intently over the intercom. "Mr. Wong, stabilize the warp core now."

Kevin turned around and ran for the engineering compartment.

Another attack made the free trader shudder and tilt.

Kevin ran into the engineering compartment to find the place in a shambles. John Wong, the Chief Engineer lay dead on the deck. At least Kevin assumed that's who it was. It was hard to tell. Who ever it was had been flash fried by the plasma leak. Kevin didn't even take the time to be horrified or frightened. There would be time for that later.

Kevin quickly sized up the condition of the Engineering Deck and made a desperate decision.

He opened a red access panel, grabbed an emergency handle and yanked it. Then he crossed the compartment, carefully avoiding the plasma fire and opened up the companion panel there.

Once the second handle was pulled, emergency back up mechanisms blew a door off the Ranger's hull. The warp core ejected and fell away from the stricken free trader.

Once that was done, Kevin told the power system to vent the plasma in it. The plasma fire died down as its fuel was thrown away into space.

The detonation of the warp core threw Kevin to the deck again. When he regained his footing he felt weak and a little ill. Radiation poisoning. They were too close to the warp core when it went off.

Kevin began to struggle for the sickbay. The lights were lower and the ships gravity was starting a sick swirling motion. There was only emergency power left.

Kevin got to sick bay and passed out. He didn't realize that the leaking plasma in the Engineering Compartment burned him until later.

-*-

"Kevin Mitchell?" The Captain was the same man who had objected to Kevin's handling of the alien derelict a lifetime ago.

"Yes." Kevin said. "That's me." He was lying in a starship sickbay.

"It is my honor to tell you that you've been accepted into Starfleet Academy, son. You'll be starting your career with a commendation on your record." The Captain seemed happy to be delivering this news.

"Thank you, Sir." Kevin said. He essayed a weak grin. He didn't want to tell the Starfleet Captain that he didn't want to go. "Where's Captain Selak? Where's the rest of my crew?"

The Captain's smile faded. He turned to Ben, the Second in Command of the Ranger.

Ben leaned over Kevin and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry, Kevin. Selak didn't make it."

"You're the Captain, now?" Kevin whispered.

"I'm not the Captain of anything, Kevin. The Ranger didn't make it, either." Ben said sadly.

A small part of Kevin's brain whispered "I guess you're going to the Academy after all, aren't you, kid?" However, Kevin didn't have a coherent reaction that he remembered for several days.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

The force subsided and Kevin Mitchell found himself back inside himself. He had learned new things about himself and the way he thought.

"Did you discover what you needed?" He asked the telepath. One of her eyes was swollen and discolored in the odd green of a Vulcan bruise.

She thought for a moment and then said. "I grieve with thee." She stood up and stepped back. "I'll let you know."

"This could have been a lot easier and a lot nicer if you had just trusted us to begin with." Mitchell said.

"Illogical." The woman said, as she sparkled away.

"Yeah. You would have had to trust us first." Mitchell said. He stayed seated and thought carefully about what he had learned.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

The short Vulcan woman sparkled into existence. The short brown human male known as Enrico Watabe was nowhere to be seen. The Vulcan woman eased a stunner out of its holster on her arm.

Suddenly a chair flew through the air and knocked the weapon from her hand. The woman stepped back falling into a martial arts crouch. The man floated towards her on dainty looking steps. Without knowing quite why the telepath felt extremely threatened. She triggered her call for beam out. Watabe grabbed her as the transporter did.

They beamed into the preparation area where several Vulcan security personnel were already standing by. The battle that followed was vicious and short. Watabe killed one of the guards and severely injured another before being stunned senseless.

-*-

A force bored into Watabe's mind. He tried to fight, but was too incoherent and disorganized to put up effective resistance. Watabe found himself remembering.

-*-

2344: The Philippines

"You're either for us or against us, Watabe." The punk sneered. Enrico Watabe gulped down a load of fear. At age eight, he was well familiar with the feeling. Unconsciously his body assumed a ready position.

"You choose to fight instead of joining the brotherhood?" The youth screamed. The brotherhood in question was a street gang. They claimed that things like this didn't happen on Earth anymore, but the third world died hard. The rural Philippines was dirt poor and over crowded. The youths didn't have to join a gang, but they felt like it and so they did.

Watabe simply shook his head, afraid to speak. Speaking during a fearful confrontation was a bad thing. It was one of the lessons his father had painfully beaten into him.

The punk rushed forward hoping that with speed and furious motion he could demoralize Watabe.

Watabe's reflexes were excellent. His father, a personal combat instructor for the Manila police had beaten them into him over the course of time.

There were critical differences. When Watabe hit these boys they fell down and cried. On the rare occasions when Watabe hit his father, he was simply beaten harder. When the boys hit Enrico he found the blows weak and almost painless compared to what his father put him through.

Numbers were the telling point. In the end, Watabe was left bleeding in the street.

-*-

"Useless idiot!" Father raged. "You let them beat you!"

Watabe simply hung his head. He knew that to say anything at this point encouraged more beatings.

"Is this the way a Watabe carries himself!?" Father raged. "Is this what the history of our line has come to!??"

Watabe shook his head slightly.

"We fought the Spanish! We fought the Americans! We fought the Japanese! We fought the Communists and the Muslims! We fought the Chinese and all foreigners who came to our land! Your ancestor, Enrico, massacred an entire Chinese settlement to the last man woman and child! When he ran out of bullets he wrung the necks of screaming babies with his bare hands! What would he do to if he could see you!?"

Watabe quailed at the thought.

"He'd wring your scrawny, useless pathetic neck! You gave a disgraceful accounting of yourself, Enrico. You know what this means." Father leaned forward menacingly.

Watabe again gave a quick shake of his head. He couldn't help it.

Father gave him a big grinning nod. "Oh, yes! More practice!"

-*-

A couple of weeks later, the young leader of the street gang became a missing person. Watabe thought he knew what had happened to the boy but was afraid to say anything. The boy's parents found the police singularly unhelpful.

-*-

2350: The Philippines and Japan

When Watabe was fourteen, he was sent to Okana Academy in Tokyo. The Okana Academy had but one purpose. To train the best warriors possible. War fighting techniques and theories from all over the Federation and some from beyond were examined and anything new or superior was carefully gleaned and added to the mix.

Enrico Watabe was taught science, math, literature and history. He was taught even better martial arts and impressed his instructors with his ability.

By the age of sixteen, Watabe had graduated the first form a deadly soldier. Then he began the second form, intended to turn him into a general. The first form taught Watabe how to kill an enemy in person. The next form was to teach him how to kill an enemy corporately. Even their culture, society and race if necessary to win.

Watabe learned with a will, learning how to defeat enemies on land, on water, in the air and even in space.

However, his first test of blood was in the rural Philippines.

-*-

2352: The Philippines

Watabe enlisted the aid of two classmates. They had similar battles to fight. One might not succeed, but their first lesson was that numbers are the second best advantage. Use them when possible.

With military precision, evidence of the elder Watabe's abuse appeared in several locations. There were too many copies to deny or cover up.

The elder Watabe was professionally destroyed. His wife found the courage to leave and take her younger children with her.

Then the final action. In war, the elder Watabe might have been allowed to surrender at that point. Enrico would settle for nothing less than total defeat.

The next part of Enrico's assault was the lawsuit in which Enrico told the world of all the ugliness that he knew his father carried. It took several weeks. During this time Enrico's accomplices followed the elder and gained evidence to use against him. All the evidence was rescued from the man's own attempts to destroy it. He led his own enemies to evidence time and again.

Now under criminal investigation. The elder Watabe's options were running out.

-*-

"Good evening, Father." Enrico said.

"What!? What are you doing here?"

"I have come to see you."

"You have a lot of nerve, after betraying me like that! What sort of son stabs his own father in the back like that?" Father yelled.

"Shut up, you bastard." Enrico said simply. There was little emotion to it. Trigger the enemy's attack with a provocation.

"You'll pay for all that you have done to me." The elder Watabe attacked.

Enrico beat him severely, point by point, according to his carefully laid out plan.

-*-

Enrico was not sure exactly when his father started sobbing. He stopped when he noticed it, his plan suddenly thrown into ruin. Anger and remorse flowed through Enrico.

"Are you proud of your son, now?" He demanded.

The sobbing man just curled himself around his pain.

"Let me tell you something!" Enrico hissed. "I'll never be like you! Never! I am good at killing, I'm talented at this. I'll never use it to hurt innocents like you do! I'll be a Watabe fighting for what is right!" He found that he was shouting at the top of his lungs. "Never like you! Never!"

When Enrico regained his senses he turned and left the house in the Philippines never to return.

When Enrico and his friends finished that summer's work, revenge had visited at least twice more.

The next fall, they turned in the notes and reports of their actions to their headmaster. He gave them extra credit.

Shortly after the term began word arrived that the elder Watabe had committed suicide. The masters of the Okana Academy kept Enrico anyway.

Watabe told his friends that he felt justified. His father's suicide was vindication of his plan and the final act of the war between father and son. Inside, Watabe wasn't sure what he felt and never examined it too closely.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

Watabe felt himself regain a certain amount of control over his memories and counter attacked the presence in his mind.

-*-

2356: The Cardassian Front

The Cardassians died gurgling. After a brief skirmish that seemed to be probing the Cardassian defenses, Watabe had gained access to their life support system. The centralized system was impregnable at its center, but all recycling happened at the center, too.

A little bit of engineering and some study of Cardassian biology made for an excellent military tactic. Watabe remembered what his masters at the Okana Academy said. If you had to choose between numbers and brains, then choose brains. They were the deadliest weapons yet created.

Watabe grinned to himself and walked out of the Cardassian base. All the Cardassians on the base, military and civilian were dead.

Watabe made the intruder look at each dead face as he remembered the walk out.

-*-

2360: On the Free Trader StarWing.

The free trader bucked and slammed as the pirates disabled it. With in a few strikes, the freighter was at the mercy of the pirates. They swept in and grabbed the helpless ship in a tractor beam. They lowered their shields to beam the valuable cargo off the ship.

The sensor technician gave Watabe a thumbs up and Watabe hit the button.

Half the Starfleet Marines that Watabe lead were beamed through emergency one shot transporters into the pirate ship.

The other half stayed behind and fought the boarding party.

The Orion crew didn't last long against the unexpected assault.

Soon the Captain of the vessel was found. He was stunned. Watabe scanned him carefully, selectively removing parts of his body where a suicide device might be.

"Ship secure, Sir!" Watabe's first sergeant reported.

"Send a message to the Lexington to come get us." Watabe said.

The Orion Captain groaned and started coming around. Watabe didn't envy him. After being Phaser stunned, Watabe had yanked out several of his teeth. Green blood spilled down the man's shirt. He was afraid to spit the blood out because of the splitting pain that would cause.

"Aye, Sir!" The Sergeant said.

"Yaseem and Parker. Haul this man into that office." Watabe ordered. He kept Yaseem and Parker with him because he knew that they were tough minded enough not to mind what was coming next.

The office was the Captain's office. It was luxurious and opulent. Watabe had the Orion thrown on the couch and the told Yaseem and Parker to go outside and close the door.

The Orion came fully awake, wincing at his pain.

Watabe quietly took out a big knife which he held down at his side.

"Fool!" The Orion mumbled, spitting blood. "Do you think we will let you take us alive and intact?"

"Alive, maybe." Watabe allowed, watching the Orion carefully.

"Perhaps we can work out an understanding, Sir." The Orion said, shifting his weight.

"I'm certain we will eventually." Watabe said.

"Well then, what can I help you in exchange for my freedom?" The Orion Captain tried to grin through swollen lips. Maybe he could live through this debacle after all.

"Where's your base?" Watabe asked reasonably.

"I can't tell you that!" The Orion howled. "They'll do worse than kill me!"

"That's what I want and that's what you're going to tell me." Watabe said.

The Orion Captain looked at Watabe's eyes and saw what was happening there. He opted for honorable suicide instead. He moved the ring with his suicide charge into position.

Watabe cut his hand off with the knife.

The Orion screamed and green blood gushed across the office.

Eventually the Orion man told Watabe what he wanted to know.

Watabe dragged the Vulcan telepath through each moment of the interrogation.

-*-

2360: Orion Space

Watabe came to groggily. He thought the Orion Captain had told him everything he needed to know. Evidently he was mistaken. Now he would be tortured and killed by the Orions.

There was the Science Officer of the Lexington and a Security Ensign. Watabe considered their grim fate. He began to plot his escape. Escape and resistance was the duty of every soldier. Watabe had failed at planning the mission. Hopefully he could succeed at surviving it.

An Orion Noble swept in with a crew of technicians.

"Good Morning!" The noble chirped. "I'm Nedak, and you belong to me. Prisoners and slaves are a great responsibility and I'm going to treat you to the highest of Orion hospitality.

"Oh, God." The Science Officer said.

"You may call me that if you wish!" Nedak grinned happily. "No point in delaying!" He grabbed an object off a tray that a technician brought in. "This is an agonizer. Quite a direct name, for quite a direct device." Nedak chortled. "These have been built into collars that will lock around your neck. The agonizer will be in contact with your skin and available to cause you pain for the rest of your lives." He snapped collars around each of their necks. Then he picked up a control device. "I will demonstrate." He thumbed a button.

Watabe had been exposed to an agonizer at the Okana Academy. The only way to be able to effectively deal with the threat was to experience it, and so agonizers were used in resistance training.

It was worse that Watabe remembered. Over the pain, Watabe could hear the Science Officer, Trask grunting. Mai Ling, the Security Ensign mewed helplessly.

The pain washed away, Mai Ling cried softly.

"Most people just give you a short jolt on level one and then threaten you with higher levels. I have found that a waste of time. I have just given you a dose of level three. Now I'll give you a higher dose." Nedak said happily.

"We give up! We'll cooperate!" Trask said.

"Yes you will." Nedak said, and he thumbed the button.

The force in Watabe's mind struggled and they bypassed the next few days.

-*-

Mai Ling was gone. Raped and broken, she was now suitable for the slave pens. Trask hung limply from his chains. His mind snapped under the grueling torture.

Watabe hung and waited for an opportunity to present itself.

Nedak came back with his technicians. "Hello, Children!" He called cheerily. Trask jerked and flinched at the sound of the man's voice.

Watabe hung limply, trying to appear broken, himself.

"Ah, Mr. Watabe, please step down." Nedak said. A touch of a button and Watabe's arms were free.

"Now, go ahead and attack, Sir. We'll see if you are quick enough to take the button away from me." Nedak grinned.

It was a standard tactic against fighters. Let them think that their skill and strength might save them and then prove repeatedly that it could not. Eventually strong men would doubt their strength and have nothing.

Watabe attacked anyway. The pain washed over him and he kept going. His goal was not to avoid the pain but to accept it for long enough to kill Nedak and keep him from increasing it.

Nedak squeaked in surprise and tried to adjust the agonizer higher, but Watabe got to him first. Nedak died with a wet crunching noise.

Then there was a confused combat with the Technicians. Some attacked in the belief that no slave could defeat an Orion. Some wisely tried to run away. Watabe closed the door and methodically killed them all with his bare hands.

Afterwards it took Watabe half an hour to pick the lock on his collar while it was locked onto level three.

Watabe could feel the mind of the Vulcan telepath starting to give under the flood of violence. She tried to break the contact. Watabe grabbed her and let her have the rest of that terrible mission.

Watabe escaped and led a slave revolt. It was bloody and violent. Phaser wielding guards massacred unarmed slaves. Then Watabe killed a guard and took his phaser. Eventually the Slaves and the Guards were approximately even in terms of phasers. Watabe organized them into a ragtag unit. There were torture pits and labs were hideous experiments were conducted. Watabe made a point of remembering those in as much detail as possible.

Eventually, as the battle turned against them, the starship Lexington, alerted by the battle roared into orbit and beamed all the slaves aboard.

Mai Ling and Trask were retired. Their careers in Starfleet were finished.

The violence of the situation was incredible, and authorities all over the Federation were shocked.

Watabe tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that there was a slaver and crew that would never touch another Federation Citizen. However, he was disappointed. The slaver's main computer was the target of the mission. It had been wiped during the slave uprising. The trail ended there.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

The force ebbed and Watabe was back in himself. The Vulcan telepath was on the ground next to him, curled into a fetal position. The followers of Surak were so unused to violence that they had no mechanisms to deal with it. Not like that anyway.

Watabe spent a few moments realizing that he hated the fact that he did. Then he moved.

The Vulcan security people did not show the level of shock and revulsion they felt. The telepath's reactions to Watabe's memories had been graphic. They simply stunned Watabe senseless again and beamed him back to his cell.

-*-

The next Vulcans who beamed into Watabe's cell did so with stunners ready. It was good thing for them, too. There were two large Vulcan males and an old Vulcan female. Watabe's first and last attack was against the most physically vulnerable member of the party.

He was stunned one more time and then held down by the big Vulcans while the female elder went to work.

The force that crashed into Watabe's mind was only slightly stronger than the last telepath. Watabe experienced a brief flicker of shame as he began to concentrate on his most hideous memories. It would be a nasty thing to do to an old lady.

This force was more skillful than the last one. Before Watabe really understood what was happening to him, he was disassociated. All of his memories were wrenched loose from their moorings and set adrift in the darkness.

Watabe had effectively ceased to exist as a specific human being.

Then the old Vulcan lady began the real work. Reassembling the mess into something that was sane.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance

Kevas had been imprisoned for an estimated three days. There was a replicator in his quarters, but it didn't have any files from the Endeavor. Kevas tested various dishes until he found some that suited him. Then he performed Mok'Bara disciplines. There was no computer terminal in the cell. No communication device. After exercising to keep himself in shape, Kevas Quatros sat down and meditated into a deep trance. He used his half Betazoid empathy to listen carefully to what he felt outside.

The cool, quiet emotions of Vulcans could be felt all around him. Underneath, there was an undercurrent of fear.

A Vulcan male sparkled into existence in the cell. Kevas unfolded himself from his meditative position. "Greetings," Kevas said softly. He could feel nothing from the Vulcan.

"Greetings." Sonok said. "You are telepathic."

"I am an empath." Kevas said.

"Unusual. Klingons are not noted for psionic potential." The Vulcan said.

"No." Kevas grinned. "Too busy being blood thirsty and violent, I suppose."

Sonok blinked and his shock pushed through his shielding. "You are correct. I apologize."

Kevas shook his head. "Where am I? Why have you brought me here?"

"You have been rendered harmless to my people. I am here to determine the level of threat you pose to my world." The Vulcan said.

"One little half Klingon?" Kevas asked.

"Not you specifically, but where you are from and what you represent." Sonok replied.

"All that data is available from our computer." Kevas said.

"The data that you entered in your computer is available. The truth can only come from your minds and your honest experiences." Sonok pointed out.

Kevas realized what the Vulcan meant. "You're going to force a meld. You won't have to worry about me lying to you. You'll steal the truth from my mind."

"Yes." The Vulcan man seemed embarrassed by the revelation.

"Disgusting! Perhaps you will learn what you need, but what will be the cost to you? Is this what Surak meant?" Kevas yelled.

"It is necessary." The Vulcan said simply.

"The ends justify the means." Kevas snarled. "That's not like any Vulcan I have ever known."

"It is necessary" Sonok moved forward. "I am sorry."

Kevas considered quickly. This place was obviously a prison of some sort. Physical violence might or might not work. However, combat in the mental arena was another story. Kevas hated to admit it, even to himself but he always wondered how he would stack up against a Vulcan mentally.

"Whenever you're ready." Kevas grinned.

A moment of uncertainty burst through the Vulcan's shields. He pushed it aside and laid his hands on Kevas' temple. "My mind to your mind."

-*-

A driving curiosity bored into Kevas' mind. He didn't resist. He had other priorities. He found himself remembering with one part of his mind.

-*-

2366: Betazed

Kevas returned home. The house looked smaller than he was used to. So did his mother and father.

Kevas looked around. He treasured the natural beauty of Betazed. The smells, the sounds and the sights. It was just the people he didn't like.

Even that wasn't necessarily true. Kevas loved his father and had a few close friends on Betazed.

The horizons were too close. The restraints of Betazoid society chafed at him. It was simply time to go.

He entered the house. There he met his mother, Katas. She was dressed in her Klingon armor.

"Hello, Mother. Do you have a new class?" Kevas asked. His mother taught boot camp for the Betazoid Defense Forces. On the first day of classes she appeared in full Klingon regalia and made the trainees believe that she would kill them if they dishonored her by failing.

"No. Not a new class. I have been waiting for you." Katas said.

"Why? And why are you all dressed up?" he asked, waving at her regalia.

"You are over due for your third rite of ascension." She said. "You have not yet become a full adult, even though you have long since matured."

Kevas thought about it. He didn't put too much stock in all of his mother's "Klingon Stuff." She had assured him that as a half-breed and the son of a discommodated woman that his life wouldn't be worth much in the Empire. Kevas had trouble understanding why Klingon rituals would be relevant to him. However, he understood almost first hand how seriously his mother took these things and so he humored her. It made her feel good.

"All right. What is required?" Kevas asked. He hoped it didn't involve pain stick again.

"You must make a journey. Off planet. You must survive a year away from Betazed to prove your courage." Katas said.

What was that Kevas felt from his mother? Guilt? A certain amount of deception? Worry? "That's interesting." Kevas said. "I just came home to tell you that I was joining Starfleet."

"Really?" Surprise burst from Katas, quickly followed by joy and then a certain amount of worry. Kevas judged it a normal reaction for anyone's mother.

"Why Starfleet?" Katas asked.

"Well, Klingons in the Empire are required to do a term of service aren't they?" Kevas asked.

"In a manner of speaking. The Warrior class serves forever. Other classes serve a limited term, or when there is an emergency." Katas said. "Why Starfleet?"

Kevas peered at his mother intently. What was that she was feeling? Relief?

"It's not on Betazed for one thing." Kevas said. "For another thing, my style of counseling is simply not applicable to most Betazoids. I could never seriously practice my craft here."

Katas nodded. "I see."

"You're relived at my decision." Kevas said. "What were you afraid of?"

Katas sighed. "I should know better than to try to keep secrets from you any more. I was worried that you'd cling to Betazed for the rest of your life. There is a big galaxy out there filled with wonders. It is not right for someone with Klingon blood to turn away from it."

"I won't." Kevas said. "Tell me truthfully. The Third Rite of Ascension?"

Katas smirked. "Making up old Klingon traditions to get your way is an old Klingon tradition."

Kevas laughed loudly and hugged his mother.

Harlan Quatros arrived home later. He was a slightly built Betazoid in his late middle age. He worked in an office as an accountant. He was really the last person you'd expect to have a Klingon Warrior for his wife.

Appearances can be deceiving. When he learned of his son's plan to go to space he said "Well, it's about time."

"Really?" Kevas asked.

"I don't argue with your decision to attend the University." Harlan said, "But I really expected you to leave sooner."

"Did you?" Kevas asked shocked.

"Betazed is too peaceful and quiet a place for you. It has always seemed a little too small and tame to hold you. The Betazeds like it that way. I think that you have more energy and ambition than that." His father explained.

"Hmmm." Kevas mused.

Harlan said "This is still your home. You will always have a place here. However, I don't expect you to be ready for it until you're old and gray. When it's time for you to retire and start a garden, then Betazed will seem just right."

"Ugh!" Katas complained. "An ignoble fate for a Klingon."

"Perhaps." Harlan agreed. "But Kevas will have to decide this for himself."

It sounded good to Kevas, but he didn't say anything. That was decades in the future. He had to focus on the present.

Kevas spent a couple of days at home saying good-bye until his transport left for Earth. When he left, He did not look back.

-*-

2372: Year 310 on the Vulcan Colony of Last Chance

A driving curiosity bored into Sonok's mind. He tried to resist, but he was so busy with the mind of the Half Klingon, that he simply didn't have the concentration. His half hearted resistance crumbled and he found himself remembering.

2335: Year 273 Last Chance:

The alarms whooped and Sonok joined the rest of his class in the shelters. Vulcans do not panic or let fear guide their minds. The students at the Advanced Schooling Academy kept telling themselves this and helped reinforce each other.

They stayed down there for two hours, listening with great trepidation to the reports from the defense ministry the battle seemed to be going against them.

Then all at once the signals stopped and external power failed. Emergency lights came on but the shelter under the Academy was cut off.

Then a huge shock wave passed by. The noise of destruction passed like a wave. The shelter shuddered, but survived.

An argument ensued. The question was whether the students in the shelter would emerge sooner or later. The faction that supported leaving sooner argued that there might be survivors in need of aid above them. Given the critically low population of Last Chance, they must be saved.

The other side of the argument said that as young Vulcans near breeding age, they were more valuable to their society if they kept themselves intact.

Both points of view had merit. A compromise was reached. A party would leave the shelter with the intention of rendering aid. Others would stay and keep the shelter open.

Sonok joined the rescue party. They opened the entrance to the shelter under the academy. They had to dig out a certain amount of rubble to escape. When they emerged a hellish scene of destruction awaited them. A heavy starship weapon had struck the main city area of Last Chance. The shock wave and firestorm that resulted tore the city apart and then flash fried the pieces.

The party from the Academy found dead people. They found chunks of dead people. They found grievously injured people that they tried to help.

After a long distressing afternoon, someone yelled "Look out!" behind Sonok.

He turned to see a Klingon Warrior bearing down on him with a Bat'leth. Sonok moved into the Tal Shaya defense stance. The intense heat and high gravity burdened the Klingon. The fight didn't last long. Sonok eventually was able to apply the neck pinch to the alien invader. The only cost was a huge gash down his arm.

This left them with another problem. What do with the captured Warrior.

They tied him securely and put him down in the shelter, too.

They saw no more Klingons. They simply went out every day and worked at freeing survivors. After a few days there were no more survivors. Sonok later heard of Vulcans being rescued after two or three weeks of being buried under the rubble. This troubled him. Who had he missed near the Academy?

The Klingon woke and hurled imprecations at them. He begged and pleaded for something, but no one could tell what. No one spoke his language. Remembering back, Sonok could hear that he was pleading to be honorably killed, but no one knew it at the time.

Survivors of other shelters joined the students at the Academy. They worked at an impromptu recovery effort for weeks until word came that an Elder somewhere had survived and was reorganizing the government. Some times it seemed to Sonok that every day since had been part of that recovery effort.

Later he learned that his parents had been killed in the attack. It was regrettable in the extreme, but a logic consequence of the Klingon attack.

A few Klingons were recovered from the attack. They were survivors of a battle cruiser that had been destroyed in orbit. They had beamed off at the last minute intending to fight to the death on the planet.

In time, an elder came to relieve them of their Klingon captive. The elder approached the Klingon, who struggled despite his bonds. Then the elder forced a mind meld. She ripped every possible piece of knowledge from the Klingon.

Sonok grew physically ill at the sight. Later he questioned the elder.

"The logic of your action escapes me." Sonok said. He could barely bring himself to address the old Vulcan with respect.

"You see my action as unethical and a violation of the philosophy of Surak." T'eora said.

"You are correct."

"Reason from this premise: The highest possible good is the survival of our species. All else must give way to that premise." She said simply.

Sonok thought about it. He didn't agree right at first. However, any disagreement nullified itself. With the end of Vulcan-kind, all arguments in favor of Surak or ethics ended. Other races had different standards of ethics. Those would survive. Dying neutralized everything that Sonok held to be true. It was a puzzling and disturbing result.

-*-

2347: Year 285 Last Chance.

The Vulcans of Last Chance rescued slaves from the Orions occasionally, when they could afford it. The Vulcans of Last Chance needed the people. Their population was too low otherwise.

The Green Orions represented a great resource. Properly rescued and indoctrinated to their new society they lived a relatively free existence and earned their way building tools, weapons and even starships for their Vulcan benefactors.

There was a problem with this. The Orions bred much faster than the Vulcans. They could not be settled on Last Chance, lest they swamp the Vulcan society there. Freed Green Orions were sent to a smaller, cooler, wetter world a week away from Last Chance. The location of the world was kept secret and it was carefully camouflaged. Vulcans occasionally went to this world to teach the Greens. There were too many Greens to instill Vulcan culture in. The best the Vulcans could do was to teach them basic skills and try to keep control of the high technology.

Occasionally they would rescue members of other races held in slavery by the Orions.

In this case, it was a Vulcan woman. Sonok was called in. He was an experienced Healer. The Vulcan woman had suffered grievously at the hands of the Orions. She needed help to recover from her terrible ordeal.

Sonok entered her room to find a catatonic woman huddled on a bed. He knew from the initial reports what condition she was in and he knew what he would have to do. He braced himself, trying to get ready for a massively unpleasant experience. He would have to meld with the woman and experience her pain. Having someone go through the events with you, and being able to look at the memories through the objective perspective offered by an outside observer often helped greatly in the process of recovery.

Sonok approach his patient and laid his hands upon her. "My mind to your mind." He spoke the ritual words.

The events that sent the woman into a catatonic trance washed over the healer and his patient. The Orion who had come into possession of the woman tortured and raped her. That much was to be expected. It was painful and miserable but not unsurvivable. However, the Orion took her emotional control as a challenge and set out to break it. The methods he used were ingenious in their cruelty. Drugs of all descriptions and telepaths from other races and even a raping of her Pon Farr reflex all combined to strip the unfortunate woman of her most quintessential aspect, her Vulcan control.

Once that was broken, the whole sequence of rape and torture was repeated so that the Orion could enjoy her open reactions.

Sonok fought through everything that had happened to the woman with her. It was a struggle unknown in Sonok's experience.

Eventually the woman was restored to function. The only thing that Sonok could not help was the woman's shattered emotional control. She was forever crippled as Vulcans viewed the matter.

The woman began to recover her mind and her life. Sonok heard that she moved to the Green Orion world and lived happily among them as a teacher.

Sonok had to seek counseling on his own to deal with the abiding hatred he gained for the Orion in question. It even bled over to a prejudice against Orions in general, a result that Sonok found intolerable.

-*-

2372 Year 310 Last Chance A few days ago.

Sonok's first clue about the Federation ship approaching was the same as most other Vulcans. The alert sounded, signaling another orderly evacuation to the shelters. Sonok really hoped that this didn't mean another orbital bombardment. He was aware that this was an illogical thought and did his best to suppress it.

They stayed in the shelters for a day until the all clear was sounded. Everyone was intensely curious about the new ship. Sonok sought out an elder of his acquaintance, T'eora.

"Tell me of the Federation." Sonok asked. The most recent information that Last Chance had was from the last scout ship to crash on the colony. The Federation was a fifty-year-old social experiment showing signs of unraveling.

"Many planets live and work together. The size and complexity of the ship above us suggests that they do so very well." T'eora replied.

"Will we have contact with our home world?" Sonok asked. He always wanted to visit Vulcan's Forge, where Surak used to speak.

"That has yet to be decided." The Elder sounded faintly sour.

"I thought that the benefits of contact would be self evident." Sonok said.

"The disadvantages would also be great." T'eora pointed out.

"What disadvantages?" Sonok asked puzzled.

"The ship above us is mostly crewed by humans. They are an illogical species, much like Vulcans before Surak's Reformation." T'eora said.

"They sound... interesting." Sonok said. Actually they didn't much, but what else was there to say?

"They dominate the Federation. There are several other species involved, all emotional. All illogical. I believe that the society of the home world has been corrupted by their influence." The Elder said harshly.

"Perhaps you underestimate our siblings on the home world." Sonok said. Could it really be that bad?

"We have struggled against too much to let our world and our society be corrupted from within by creeping emotionalism." T'eora said. "Personally I do not favor contact."

"Pity..." Sonok whispered. The secret hope that someday the home world would arrive and reinforce the Vulcans of Last Chance was a secret hope that burned in many. Sonok was disappointed to learn that there was danger involved in this, too.

"How will the question be decided?" Sonok asked.

"The Elders will debate it, once the aliens have been investigated." T'eora said. "You will be informed of our decision once it has been made."

"Live long and prosper, T'eora." Sonok said.

"Live long and prosper, Sonok." The Elder replied.

-*-

"Sonok you are needed." T'eora said.

"Where?" Sonok replied. There was no hesitation. He was a healer.

"The containment complex." She said.

This was where prisoners, captured aliens and freed slaves were held until either healed or removed from the planet.

"I'll be there immediately." Sonok replied.

-*-

Sonok studied the picture being relayed of the Klingon. A small emotion welled up in him. Sonok didn't like Klingons.

These are his records from the Starship. T'eora said. She handed him a reader that held the information.

"Half Klingon, Half Betazoid." Sonok read. "What is a Betazoid?"

"This along with many other facts you will discover from the Alien himself." T'eora said.

"I am to question him?" Sonok asked. Fear shot through him. What was she asking?

"You must initiate a meld. You must learn his history and his character." T'eora said.

"But we have access to their ship. Their records! What more do we need?" Sonok asked.

"A lie can be entered into a computer as easily as the truth. We must know for certain what sort of people these are." T'eora said. "It is necessary for our preservation."

"Are you certain?" Sonok asked.

She just looked at him. Sonok could feel the weight of years and experience that T'eora had. How could he doubt her? "Yes, Sonok. I am certain."

Sonok nodded. He began to prepare himself for a difficult meld.

-*-

2372: Year 310 Last Chance Prison.

The meld ended. Sonok and Kevas fell apart and collapsed.

"Sonok, search your heart." Kevas gasped. "You know that this isn't right."

"It's necessary." Sonok repeated.

"Why? Because one old paranoid woman says so?" Kevas snarled.

"You obviously do not understand." Sonok said. He knew as he said it that it was a lie.

"Your people have survived against terrible odds, Sonok, but the price has been too high. You're not Vulcans anymore. Ask our healer. Ask Matae."

Sonok rose to his feet. "I will bear that in mind. The information you have given me is valuable. I thank you." he touched his recall button and sparkled out of the cell.

Kevas wondered if it was information about the Federation or about himself that Sonok found valuable.

-*-

Sonok materialized to find a security officer waiting for him.

"Healer, you are needed." The man said.

Sonok nodded shortly and followed the guard.

One Security guard was dead. It looked like the results of a Tal Shaya blow.

Sonok could do nothing for him.

Another guard was crippled by another Tal Shaya move. Sonok set his bones and repaired some internal bleeding. The man could now be moved to an infirmary.

The third casualty was the healer T'sala. Sonok had helped train her. She was in a catatonic trance. Something had traumatized her, badly.

After his experience with Kevas, Sonok didn't know if he was competent to perform a healing meld with her, but he could see no alternative but to try.

He placed his hands on her face and said "My mind to your mind..."

-*-

Sonok experienced T'sala's memory of Enrico Watabe. It was bad, but understandable under the circumstances. He also reviewed her melds with Kevin Mitchell and Miriah Katasai. If anything, up until the meld, T'sala felt worse about the Klingons than he did.

Sonok shared with her his experience of the Vulcan slave woman's meld. He shared with T'sala his ways of dealing with the intensely emotional experiences.

Buoyed by his presence, T'sala began to rally. Sonok broke the meld as soon as possible. T'sala was not outwardly coherent. She needed to sleep. Sonok asked a security guard to make the appropriate arrangements.

He saw T'eora in the cell with Watabe. She didn't know what she was doing to the unfortunate human, but it bought him the time he needed.

He went in search of Matae.

-*-

Matae was not being held as rigidly as the humans and other races from the Endeavor. She had a terminal and could call out. She could read the history of Last Chance on the terminal as well as other things. The only things she couldn't do was leave or find out what was being done to the non-Vulcan members of the crew.

A male Vulcan sparkled into existence in her cell.

"Greetings." Sonok held up his hand in the Vulcan Salute. "I am Sonok. Are you the Healer Matae?"

Matae held up her hand. "Yes, I am a Healer. I am Matae of Vulcan."

"Healer, you are needed." Sonok said. He looked grim and harried.

"Where? I'll need access to my tools." Matae said, rising. It was a gut reaction from someone trained as a healer.

"My planet may be ill. I'll need to meld with you to confirm the diagnosis." Sonok said.

Matae quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed." She said. She sat back down. "You may begin."

Sonok sat down next to her and touched her face. "My mind to your mind."

Sonok shared with Matae what he had seen that day.

Matae shared with Sonok her experience of Vulcan and life in the Federation.

When the link broke, Matae looked at him. "You have learned much about yourself and your world today."

"Will Vulcan send help? Will the Federation? Will that destroy our world?" Sonok asked quickly.

"I can not speak for either the Federation or Vulcan. Captain Mitchell is empowered to speak for the Federation. My opinion that yes, both Vulcan and the Federation will send aid, if properly asked to do so." Matae said. "But you don't have much time."

Sonok thought about it. "I will return when I am able."

"Live long and prosper, Sonok." Matae said.

"And you, Matae." Sonok touched his recall button and sparkled away.

-*-

Sonok walked briskly out of the prison complex and towards the Advanced Schooling Academy. There was no longer a city as such there. The old shelters had been enlarged and now resembled an interconnected warren of tunnels.

Sonok needed to reach classmates and colleagues to spread the word about what was happening.

-*-

"What did Sonok say to you?" T'eora asked Matae.

Matae looked at the old woman. She didn't see the respected elder that Sonok did. She saw a pinched and bitter old woman. "We consulted about a patient."

"I have the transcript of what was said here." T'eora said. "Lying is illogical."

"If you knew what was said, why did you ask?" Matae said.

"To prove to myself and to everyone else that you are corrupted by the humans. You seek to destroy us here." T'eora snarled.

"Illogical. I am a healer. I do not destroy." Matae said. "You have taken my crew and myself prisoner. Resistance is my duty."

"And my duty is to preserve my world and my people." T'eora said. "I will not let Vulcan or the Federation corrupt us."

"What you fear as corruption, we treasure as strength." Matae said. It was a direct quote of Surak.

"I will force a meld, and then I will see for myself the truth of your threat." T'eora said moving towards Matae.

"That is unnecessary. I will tell you whatever you want to know." Matae said mildly.

"Do you expect me to believe that?" T'eora snorted derisively.

Matae looked at the two security personnel who flanked the old woman. "Does this sound logical to you?" She asked them.

They both looked uncomfortable, but said nothing.

T'eora laughed. "You can not corrupt my children here so easily! Come now, let's get this done." She touched Matae face and initiated the meld.

She encountered block after block. The Vulcan Elder fought through them all, only to find another mental barrier waiting.

The mental battle raged for half an hour during which Matae was easily able to parry every assault by the T'eora.

Eventually the old Vulcan woman sagged, defeated. She stepped back.

"That woman in not Vulcan. She is resistant to my mind. Kill her." T'eora ordered.

"I am resistant to your mind because I have access to more advanced mental techniques developed on Vulcan." Matae said "You are ill."

"A lie!" T'eora shrieked, "Alien, you will not destroy us! Kill her!"

The security personnel looked from Matae to T'eora, confused.

"She is obviously unwell. Take her to a competent healer." Matae said.

The two security people looked at each and nodded their agreement. It was deeply disturbing to see an elder acting hysterical.

T'eora flung herself at Matae. "I'll kill you myself! Invader! Killer! Murderer!"

Matae easily held off the woman's assault. "Take her away and get her medical aid." Matae said. "Hurry."

"Yes, Healer." The security men grabbed the struggling elder and touched the recall button.

-*-

Sonok led a large group of civilians to the prison. They were all unarmed.

As they approached the gate, the chief of security, Selan and his assistant, T'aran came out of the door.

"Healer you are needed." The chief said.

"Where? What is the problem?" Sonok replied.

"T'eora the Elder is ill. She needs your help."

Sonok thought for a bit. then he spoke to Selan. "I will tend to her in a moment. There is a more pressing emergency. I need you to put down your weapons and release the aliens."

T'aran raised her eyebrows. "What is the logic behind the request?"

"The aliens pose no threat to us. They may yet be of immense help to our world. T'eora's logic in restraining them is flawed." Sonok explained.

"Sonok they are aliens. Aliens bombarded our world and took our people as slaves. Are you certain these aliens pose no threat? I agree that T'eora's judgment may be impaired by her illness, but is trusting these aliens wise?" T'aran asked.

"Wise or not, it is what a Vulcan should do, Selan." Sonok replied.

"I don't know..." Selan said. "The risk is great. I need some way to be certain that they pose no threat."

"I can't offer you that. All I have are these people who agree with me. The aliens must be released." Sonok said.

"No." Selan decided. "Now come treat T'eora."

Sonok took a step forward. The crowd surged around him and surrounded the security people.

"What is the meaning of this?" Selan shouted. His voice was level but loud.

"You will have to shoot me or injure me to stop me, Selan." A woman said from the crowd. "Are you willing to do that?"

"What?" Selan said shocked. Hands reached towards him and took away his communicator and his stunner. To stop them Selan would have had to shoot and beat his own neighbors.

"This is not logical!" T'aran yelled. "You have entrusted us to protect you. Let us do our job!" She had her stunner out. A man reached for it and she stunned him. T'aran found herself surrounded by gentle, insistent people. They made no move to take her weapons away. "Will you stun all of us, T'aran?"

T'aran noticed that while several people were interfering with her, the rest of the crowd was filing into the prison.

"Stop! Stop this!" T'aran shouted.

"Give me the stunner." Sonok said. "Let me go help T'eora."

T'aran looked at Sonok balefully. He could tell that she thought he was betraying his world and his people. The logic of the situation was clear. T'aran handed him her stunner.

-*-

"Please accept our apologies for your treatment." Sonok said to Captain Mitchell.

"Not a problem." Mitchell lied. He didn't like being taken prisoner, but it was better to let it go and help things turn out peacefully. It was easier to be forgiving from the Bridge of the Endeavor.

"We wish to have contact with out home world, Vulcan, and the rest of the Federation." Sonok said.

"Yes, Sir. If we can successfully return to the Federation we will convey your wishes to the Government of Vulcan." Mitchell said.

"Thank you. I have spoken with my colleagues at our Advanced Schooling Academy. We have determined that our physicist Snokel will be best able to assist you with your plan to capture the wormhole. If this does not succeed, then return here and we will refit you for a direct passage." Sonok said.

"Thank you, Sir. That's most generous." Mitchell was surprised.

"It is the least we can do to atone for our actions." Sonok said.

"Is Matae there, I'd like to speak with her." Mitchell said.

Matae appeared on the screen. "I am here, Captain."

"How's it going? Will you be ready to return to the Endeavor soon?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes. Lt. Commander Watabe should be returning now. T'eora the Elder was suffering badly from her mind meld with him. The effects have now been purged, but she is still unstable. I have done all I can here. I am ready to beam up."

"Okay, transporter room two, that's your cue." Mitchell said.

In response, the Vulcan woman sparkled out of the picture on the screen.

"Do we have everyone?" Mitchell asked.

"Yes, Sir. Dr. Matae and the Vulcan scientist are aboard. That's the last of them."

"Right. Let's get out of here. Set course for New Klinzai. Thank you, Mister Sonok, for your kind aid.

"Live long and prosper Endeavor. Last Chance out."

-*-

2372 USS Endeavor, Later.

"I am unfit for duty." Watabe said.

"You are?" Kevas asked. In a situation like this you listened to the patient. They could tell you more than all the training there was, if you had the brains to listen. "Tell me how you know this."

"Counselor, to fight and win, you have to want to more than anything else. You must become the fight. Any outside thought or distraction is an advantage for an enemy." Watabe explained.

"You sound like my mother." Kevas said.

"Your mother is a Klingon Warrior?" Watabe asked.

"Yes." Kevas answered.

"Well it's true. Frankly, since that lady rebuilt my head, winning the next battle simply is not that important to me. I'm not living the fight. I won't be a successful Security Chief."

"Do you want to live?" Kevas asked.

"Yes. Yes I do. I want to meet women. I want to dance the night away. I want to see a sunset and not judge how certain angles of fire will be affected by it. I want to eat ice cream and watch cartoons." Watabe's eyes grew wide and distant as he realized that a whole new world of human pleasures awaited him.

"If we get attacked, can anyone else do the job well enough to get you home alive?" Kevas asked.

"Hmmm..." Watabe thought about it. "Yes. There are a couple of people who are okay at the job. Not great, but serviceable."

"Then we're fine. You're off duty." Kevas picked up a PADD and began to write.

"Wait." Watabe said.

"What?"

Watabe sighed "It wouldn't be fair to stick some one else with my job without a lot more training. Maybe I'm not at the peak of my form right now, but I'm still the best there is on the ship, and so I'll see it through until we get home."

"Welcome to the Human race, Enrico" Kevas reached out and shook Watabe's hand.

Enrico Watabe laughed until his sides hurt.

-end-

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Trek. I claim original characters and situations in this story for me.

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By

Jay P. Hailey

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