NEW: Story 10 (yeah I ain't gots a title), TOS, K&S 1/5
Title: Story 10
Author: Dread Nought
Code: K & S
Series: TOS
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom own these guys. This is a not-for-profit work.
Feedback: spock42@yahoo.com                                    
Archive: sure and Trekslash 
Summary: A little different Vulcan tale.

He struggled again to sit up and this time succeeded. He breathed
deeply, trying to revive himself and return to full awareness. The
thin atmosphere felt stale and used up in his lungs.  He managed to
gain his feet and squinted across the rocky scrub.  _Must find the
captain,_ he remembered.  Where was he?  What planet was this?  Strange
to not remember. He shook his head and began to pick his way across
the small plain before him.  His thoughts were not right.  Perhaps a
head injury? He wondered, carefully stroking his head looking for
tenderness or swelling.  There was none.

An emotion akin to panic was stirring in him. Discipline, he thought
fiercely.  Where was the captain?  He knew he was here, though he
could not remember precisely when he last had contact with him.  He
stopped suddenly.  His tricorder lay on the ground between two
boulders in front of him.  Had he really dropped his tricorder?  He
snatched it up and adjusted the setting.  Yes, there were Human
readings, distressingly weak but present. He moved quickly in the
direction of the signal using the tricorder as a homing device.

He wandered over terrain of dry scrub grass and thorn bushes. Very
close now.  On the tricorder display it looked like he was right on
top of the sensor blip.  There, a boot behind a rock.  He slung the
tricorder around to his back and moved around the boulders.

"Captain."  His voice sounded hollow: it disappeared into the thin air
and didn't resound back off the rocks.  Kirk lay as if some unknown
force had shattered him.  Spock crouched beside him, pulling his
tricorder around and switching to close range.  The tricorder display
seemed nonsensical. He placed his hand on the cool human neck, opening
his mind and feeling for both a lifeforce and a pulse. Kirk
stirred. Spock tried the tricorder again.  It seemed to be reporting
on something else or maybe someone else: someone barely living.  He
tossed it aside, pulling it angrily over his head.

He suppressed this sudden anger, only to find the void it left behind
to be filled with anguish.  He lifted the Human off of the rocky
ground and laid him across his lap.  Kirk's eyelids fluttered to
unfocussed half open. "Captain?" Spock asked, surprised to hear his
voice sounding so even and uneffected.  Kirk's hand reached out
blindly and plucked at Spock's uniform shirt.  Spock couldn't feel any
lifeforce from the being before him, though at some level, he couldn't
feel anything at all. He closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to
apply a basic discipline to clear his mind. What is wrong with me? he
thought. I am failing my duty. It is unacceptable.

Kirk's body shuddered and drew in a slow painful breath. "Captain." He
whispered as the realization that Kirk was losing touch with life sank
in...  Jim.

Helplessness. He touched the side of Kirk's face. Unwise and probably
impossible since his telepathic sense seemed to be inhibited from even
feeling Kirk's lifeforce.  Kirk's hand gripped his shirt solidly. One
last chance, perhaps, "I have been honored to serve under you." he
managed before the effort of control forced him to stop. What did it
matter? He thought, thinking of an unobserved lapse. He stroked one
dusty cheek and thought of how it also applied to his life from this
point on. Kirk gasped and Spock tenderly adjusted the being in his
arms to try to make him more comfortable, discovering in himself a
core of compassion previously untapped. It laid waste to his carefully
constructed walls and left him exposed.

Intense pressure had built behind his eyes and the moment Kirk's hand
went limp and released his shirt it surged and overflowed. Kirk would
be touched, he thought, trying to console himself.

He shook himself and needing to take some action, lifted the now-still
form to carry it to the shuttle.  Where was the shuttle? he
wondered. Unfathomable that he could forget.  He carried Kirk about a
quarter of a click to the base of a small hill and, although it didn't
matter, tenderly laid him in a sandy spot.

Unburdened, he made the top of the hill. Shading his eyes, he turned
360 looking for the shuttle.  It wasn't visible. In fact the entire
landscape looked unfamiliar.  Something gave in inside him and he
declined to his knees. I am failing.  There had been disapproval (of
his parentage). Disobedience (of his father's will in entering
starfleet). But never failure. This was beyond comprehension.

Suddenly completely spent, he doubled over and rested his forehead on
the hot, gravelly sand. Like a discarded puppet, he fell lax.  Odd, he
suddenly felt much heavier.  Could the gravity of the planet be
shiting?  The sun was now intensely hot, incident on his left ear when
it hadn't been before.  He must have lost consciousness.


*****************

Doctor Leonard McCoy was hotter than he ever remembered being.  Unable
to even stand to have shoes on his feet, he picked his way over the
flagstones of the House of Sarek in bare feet.  He eyed the decorative
fountain in the front hall and wondered how rude it would be
considered to soak his feet.

He shuffled back past the doorway and spotted Spock's regulation
boots. Hmmm, he was supposed to be back from a walk an hour ago.  He
found his own communicator and tried Spock's frequency: no response.
Maybe Spock didn't take it, it is his planet. He vacillated between
the relative coolness of the stone house and concern for their
normally punctual Vulcan.  He twisted his face up, "Oh, hell," he said
to no one and picked his boots off of the low shelf.

The breeze carried some relief although the red sun beat at him in
merciless waves. "Just a short walk around the grounds," he muttered.
The heat of the sand soaked quickly through the soles of his boots.
He regretfully remembered Amanda offering more appropriate shoes
yesterday and him turning them down like a polite, but foolish, southern
gentleman.

Wiping sweat from his eyes almost made him miss the dun-colored robe
behind a small stone wall.  McCoy scrambled over the wall and pulled
out his medical scanner; it didn't show anything seriously amiss.
Spock was doubled over his knees in an odd position. He put a hand on
the thin shoulder. "Spock?" He roused him. Spock moaned and lifted his
head off of the sand. The scanner showed moderate dehydration and
slightly elevated temperature, no injuries though an irregular pulse.

The doctor slipped an arm around the Vulcan and helped him to his
feet.  Spock murmured something inarticulate as McCoy led him toward
the house.  They paused a moment in the foyer as McCoy considered just
laying his burden down inside the door.  The relatively stable
readings on the medscan made him decide to take him to his room
instead.

He fetched damp towels and a dehydration packet from his kit and
returned to Spock's room.  He bathed Spock's face, parted the robe and
bathed his chest, then pulled the robe up one arm and attached the
intravenous rehydration packet to his wrist. 

Spock stared at the wall half-aware.  McCoy touched a shoulder and
called his name. Spock took notice of him with raw pain-filled eyes
that made the Human sit back.  The Vulcan then looked around, eyes
darting about uncharacteristically.  After taking in the room, he
relaxed a little.

"How are you feeling?" McCoy asked, refolding the towel across the
other's head to get a fresh side against the skin.

"Somewhat disoriented." 

"You had a bit of heat stroke," he said clerically.

Spock looked at him closely for a long moment, started to speak then
stopped. He closed his eyes. "Where is the captain?" This was spoken
more quietly, as if the answer may be dangerous.

McCoy pulled out his chrono. "He's still with your mother at the museum." 

Long pause. "You are certain?"

"They haven't called to say otherwise." Spock's brow was knitted in
consternation.  "Do you want me to call them?"  He almost missed the
nod, maybe imagined the nod.  He pulled out his communicator and
activated it.  "McCoy to Captain."

"Kirk here," came across the device.  Spock's reaction was as close to
a Vulcan epiphany as McCoy would ever have imagined witnessing: the
Vulcan closed his eyes and tilted his head back in a visage of utter
relief.  It would have intrigued McCoy as an insight into Spockian
behavior if it hadn't worried him so much.

"Ah, McCoy here. Just wondering your status."

"We're in the natural history section, is something up?"

He looked down at his patient. "Spock's suffered a touch of heat
stroke and I was just wondering about your ETA."

Kirk and Amanda's eyes met in surpise over the communicator Kirk held
open in his hand.  "We'll be right there," he said. "Do you need to
take him to the med center?"

"Naw. It's not that serious," McCoy drawled. 

Kirk released his breath. "We'll be home in about 10 minutes
anyway. Kirk out." He shut the device and they headed for the exit.

"What was that all about?" McCoy asked, referring to Spock's emotional
reaction.

Spock shook his head. "If I told you, you would insist on an
evaluation at the med center, and I do not wish to go," he said
calmly, staring at the ceiling.  Some irrational part of him wanted to
share the pain as a means of easing it; he tried to disregard it.

"Well..." McCoy looked at the readings again. "You are essentially
recovered, so I think I can promise you I won't make you go anywhere."

Spock hesitated: the pain of memory must be submerged.  "When you
found me, I was looking for the shuttle."

"The shuttle? We beamed down to Vulcan," McCoy pointed out.

"I...did not think that I was on Vulcan." He squinted at the ceiling.  He
shook his head as the pain returned, undiminished by control. "I was
bringing the captain's body back to the shuttle."

McCoy blinked at him. "Where did you think you were?"

"I do not know," he said quietly. 

"Hallucination, sounds like." McCoy broke out his scanner and held it
beside the dark head.  Spock turned away to facilitate access to his
cranium.  "The readings are a little off, but well within normal. I
wouldn't have thought your heat stroke severe enough to produce an
episode."

They looked at each other.  Spock looked away, his eyes still
revealing too much. "Hmmm," McCoy grunted. He wondered at Spock's lack
of control.

They both heard the main door close.  McCoy stood and went to the
front hall where Kirk and Amanda both looked at him
questioningly. "He's in his room." McCoy gestured.  Both started down
the hall.  McCoy intercepted Kirk and gestured with his head down the
opposite hall.  "I want to talk to you a minute."

Kirk straightened as if to challenge, then moved in the direction
McCoy indicated.  Once inside the first room, a small library, McCoy closed
the door.

"What is it?" Kirk asked. 

McCoy stood, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. "I thought I
should prepare you."  Kirk froze. "It's not that serious." He added to
sooth him. "He's shaken up. He had some kind of hallucination, which
isn't unusual with extreme heat stroke, but Spock only had a very mild
case.  Well, anyway, an idetic memory can have a hard time with this
sort of thing: trying to sort out reality from a dream, essentially."

"What happened?"

"I don't know and he seems to remember only the hallucination, which
by the way, was something about you being dead and him looking for the
shuttle."  Kirk looked sharply at him.  McCoy shrugged, "Like I said,
I'm concerned. There isn't really any good physical reason for him to
lose touch like that. Plus his control seems tenuous, even now."

"We should take him to better facilities then," Kirk said, heading for
the door.

"I promised him I wouldn't." 

Kirk turned around. 

McCoy shrugged again. "It was the only way to get him to tell me."

"Well, I didn't promise him," Kirk said and walked out.

Amanda sat in a chair beside Spock's bed.  Kirk rapped twice on the
doorframe and entered.  Spock looked over at him the way a shipwreck
survivor looks at a tropical island.  Though shaken by this, Kirk
smiled reassuringly at him. "Lady Amanda, can I have a few minutes
with Spock alone?"

"Certainly." She stood up and with a nod at her son swished out of the
room.

Kirk passed up the chair beside the bed and sat on the edge instead.
"You all right?"

Spock seemed to realize that his face was revealing his emotions
because he suddenly composed himself.  It was only an improvement,
Kirk noted, not his normal full control.  Spock nodded and lowered his
eyes.

"McCoy told me what happened."  

He nodded acceptance of this.

"We should take you to the medical center, Spock."

Spock swallowed convulsively. "I cannot be seen like this," he
said. His weak control dissolving.

"Spock, something is not right with you.  We need to make certain you
are going to be okay and McCoy can't do that here with a hand
scanner."

Spock sat up. "Please, Captain," he pleaded hoarsely.

Kirk grasped Spock's arm reassuringly.  Remembering what the Vulcan
had been through he said. "I'm sorry my friend.  If the Enterprise
were here, we'd check you out there, but she's not." He rubbed the arm
in his hand. "I have to make certain you are going to be all right."
He paused, looking with some curiousity at a Spock with apparently no
emotional barriers. "It's only logical, and I'm afraid it's an order."

Spock swallowed hard again and looked away. Kirk grasped both upper
arms. "I understand. I know you don't want to be seen by other
Vulcans, but it will be all right.  They're professionals.  It's their
job." He straightened the other's bangs with his fingers wanting
desperately to ease his friend's distress. "I promise to stay with
you."

Spock eventually nodded. 

"I'll tell Bones."

McCoy was packing his medical things in the front hall.  Amanda looked
up at Kirk as he came in.  "I'll wait here, Sarek should return from
council within the hour.  Since it isn't life-threatening, I won't
interrupt him,"  she said.

"Is he willing to go?"  McCoy asked. 

"More or less."

*******

They entered the admitting department.  Spock hung quietly back from
his Human companions. McCoy proceeded to have a technical conversation
with the clerk which culminated in directions to neurology and a room
number in which to settle the patient.  Biting his lip, Spock
followed.

He hestitated again before sitting on the bed in the room. Kirk looked
at him sympathetically.  McCoy piped up, "Someone by the name of
Yvresh is supposed to come do an eval, according to the clerk."

About five minutes past before a young, and by Vulcan standards, stout
female doctor strode in.  Her Vulcan ears were lost in a modern
hairstyle.  "Greetings," she said to the Humans. She pulled out her
computer slate and looked at McCoy's notes on the chart.

"So the only remaining symptom is g'redt wani?" She asked McCoy,
unerringly finding her own kind.  McCoy nodded.

"What?" Kirk asked.

"Loss of emotional control." McCoy translated.

Oh. Kirk thought. Spock's flush made him wish he hadn't asked.

She ran her own scanner in front of Spock's chest.  "Why don't we run
a full neuroscan."  She touched the communicator on her
shoulder. "X'fre, bring a G-1 to room 53."

The equipment arrived. She affixed a net of sensors to Spock's skull
after dipping them in an unnatural looking blue goop.  She then
attached the leads to a small portable unit.  McCoy noticed that with
all of her fussing with the wires and sensors, she managed to not
touch skin on skin with Spock even once.

Yvresh picked up a remote control from the cart and stood beside the
bed. "Lie down," she said and Spock obeyed. She made settings adjustments
on the remote.  "Close your eyes and relax for about 3 minutes so we
can get base readings."

Kirk watched his friend laying quietly but uncomfortably. 

After the time was up Yvresh said, "I want to go over what happened
and return your mind to the hallucination."  Fear escaped Spock's weak
control to sharpen his eyes. The display on the scan went a little
crazy for a moment.

The doctor's comm chirped. Yvresh put an earpiece to her ear and
listened. After a moment she signed off and said to Spock, "Your
parents are here and would like to come in."

"I would prefer they not," Spock said.

Kirk headed for the door.  "I'll take care of it."  He nodded to
Yvresh's dubious look.

Kirk walked back toward admitting. The stern Vulcan ambassador and
his wife were standing beside the clerk.  Kirk approached and greeted
them.  To the clerk he said, "Is there another room here for a private
conversation?"  The clerk pointed to a door across the alcove.  Kirk
gestured for Sarek to lead the way.  He looked at Kirk with raised
brow but took the lead.

After the door shut Amanda asked, "How is Spock?"

Kirk took a deep breath.  "Physically, apparently, he is okay. The
healer is running a full neuroscan."

"Is Spock still abg'redt wani?" Sarek asked with some difficulty. Kirk
nodded. Sarek and Amanda shared a meaningful look.

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

Sarek clasped his hands behind him and walked around the room.  "When
Spock was very young, many healers insisted that he would not make it
far into adulthood.  They hypothesized that he would... self destruct
under his dual heritage."

Amanda continued, "Whenever Spock has such difficulties," she paused
to look at Sarek. "We wonder if perhaps they were correct."

Kirk looked from one to the other of them.  Sarek was in full
control. Amanda's eyes glowed at him with that energy and will of
hers.  Kirk turned the idea around in his mind. He'd always thought of
Spock as indestructible, vulnerable only to a few things, including
he liked to think, himself.  He tried to imagine that powerful mind
and body somehow unmeshing and becoming disturbed.  He shook his head.
"I don't think so." They both looked at him unreadably. "He has been
perfectly normal until today. I haven't seen signs of anything."

Sarek nodded. "Such a thing would appear gradually, one would expect."

"And Spock can't hide that much from me," he added without
thinking. Sarek's eyebrow shot up.  Amanda gave him an almost
mischievous look.  Kirk tried to recover, "Well, less than he thinks
he does."  Unconsciously, he stretched his shoulders back.  "Anyway,
Spock requested that you not be present right now. If you will agree."
Sarek nodded after a pause.  "I'll come back and let you know how the
scan goes."  He turned and opened the door.

"Spock allows your presence?"

Kirk turned back. "You may be his parents, but I'm his captain." he
said with a half-smile.  Another eyebrow went up.

A red light was on outside the door to Spock's room.  Kirk waited for
it to turn blue before entering.  Yvresh was unhooking the sensor net.
She and McCoy were having an inconprehensible conversation.

McCoy was pointing at the scan display.  "But look, the beta should be
smoother here.  It is almost as if there is noise in the sensors."

Kirk noticed with a twinge that Spock had no interest in the scan.  He
started intently at the wall, long fingers steepled in his lap.  The
doctor debate continued. Kirk walked over to the other side of the
bed and lay his hand over one wrist.  Spock stiffened and looked at
him suddenly before relaxing a little, accepting the gesture.

*************************

Maple Reeves sat at his desk of four computer displays, idly rubbing
his two-day-old shirt between his finger tips.  He set one keypad
aside and moved another to the front of the desk.  Imported nacho chip
crumbs clung to the top edge of his hearty abdomen.  The display on
the right output something and he touched the already greasy screen to
prompt it into its next task. He was the hospital's main programmer,
relegated to a life in the cooled basement. Vulcan wasn't San
Fransisco, but then again, the computer's were much better and no one
yelled when the systems went down.

He unsealed a new can of (also imported) cola, pausing to let the CO2
cartridge do its work and chill the contents to near freezing. He
looked at the right screen again over the first nirvana-like gulp.
His brow furrowed and he looked more closely.  A scanner file was
breezing past into archival storage.  It made him think of blurry
hours in nameless coffee shops off Harvard Square.  "Huh," he said
aloud.

**********************

The wall comm chirped. Yvresh thumbed it.  "Uh," the voice on the
other end said, "did you just run a g157?"

Yvresh tilted her head to the side. "Yes." 

"Huh," the voice continued, "on a new patient?"

"Yes." A bit of forced control could be heard in her voice now.

"Hmmm. Can I come up?"

"Who are you?"

"Oh. This is Maple, the sysadmin." Voracious typing could be heard in
the background. "Something looks really familiar about this scan
here."

Everyone in the room looked at everyone else. 

***************

Maple poked his head into the room. "Hello?" He brushed
unconsciously at his shirt.

"You must be Maple." Yvresh said in invitation. The man in the doorway
smiled uncertainly and stepped into the room. He looked at the other
occupants in question.  Yvresh indicated Kirk, "This is Captain Kirk
of the U.S.S. Enterprise and his Chief Surgeon."

Maple gave Kirk a long unreadable look. "Huh," he said. "Uh, hello."

"Hello," Kirk said, hiding his amusement at this character.  He seemed
an unlikely Vulcan citizen.

"You said something about the scan..." Yvresh prompted.

"Oh, yeah. I haven't seen a scan like that I was working on my
thesis." He warmed to his topic and seemed to come into his own.  "The
interference on the beta and tri-delt signals is really distinctive.
I did my thesis, you see, on medical signal processing and one of the
few complex datasets I could get my hands on easily were some old
neuroscans of zorba addicts."

"Of what?"  McCoy asked. "Is that some kind of drug?"

"No," Maple said.  He seemed to notice Spock for the first time. He
looked a Yvresh and pointed a thumb at the bed. "Is that his scan?"
Yvresh nodded.  "Huh." Everyone was looking at him he realized, and
seemed to shrink into himself.

"So what is Zorba?" McCoy asked.

Maple looked at him as if noticing him for the first time. "It was a
game. An early immersion game. Around 2060 to 65, at least those were
the dates on the scans I had." He looked around, seemingly for
understanding. He dove in again. "The games were supposed to be tuned
by a professional to each user, but most people either didn't want to
spend the dough, or wanted to use someone else's unit. So they ended up
with this sort of interference pattern in their brain waves."

"Hmmm," McCoy grunted. "Spock, this seem likely to you? You been secretly
keeping one of these in your quarters?"

Spock looked at him, rising to the bait. "As likely as you would be
keeping one to make the crew believe they are in good hands when they
are in sickbay."

Yvresh looked back and forth between the two of them.

Kirk, who was leaning against the side wall out of the way, ignored
the exchange.  "It would explain the hallucination."

"It would?" McCoy said.

"Yes.  It would mean the hallucination was actually a program in the game."  

"Why would anyone do that?" McCoy asked, incredulous. 

Spock looked dubious. "I must admit that I too find it highly
unlikely, Captain."

Maple stared at his sandles and his dirty toenails. Apparently he
embarrassed himself by coming up here for no reason. "Did you look..."
he stopped, realizing they wouldn't have. "The filament mount often
left a mark."  He walked over beside Spock and then stopped short in
apparent fear.

Yvresh came over. "Where?"

"Uh." He seemed to have completely lost his train of thought.

"You said something about a filament mount..."

"Oh yeah." He started to reach for Spock to demonstrate, then stopped
himself.  He was flustered a moment. He turned to Yvresh, "The zorba
was the first unit to get full immersion because it had this
tri-filament net that entered the skull and spread out over the brain.
It even sent a bit of net down to the hypocampus to affect the base
senses."  He warmed again to his topic.

"Is this how it does its damage?" Yvresh asked.

"Actually, no. The filaments are only three molocules thick, just
wide enough to steer them. They retracted completely back out of the skull
leaving no trace. The mount itself though had to fit tight to the head
so the filaments can pass through the bone."

"Which they would like butter, being so small." McCoy said.

"It mounted just above the spine on the back of the head," Maple said,
pointing to his own head.

Yvresh slid in front of Maple to stand beside Spock.  She said
something in Vulcan and pulled out her hand scanner.  Spock bent down.
He gave Kirk a long-suffering look across the room and received a
sympathetic one in return.  She held the scanner over the back of his
skull and studied the display.  "Any particular shape to the filament
bundles?"

"Uh, diamond I think," Maple answered.

"That would be it then," she said.  She turned and held the scanner
out to McCoy, "Care to have a look, Doctor."  McCoy looked surprised.
He took the scanner and held it over the base of Spock's raven head.

"Huh," he said adjusting the settings, "You can see the rearrangement
of the crystalline structure of the bone where the filaments passed
en mass. But no other evidence at all."  He pulled the scanner aside
and Spock sat up straight. "Any other damage from something that small
would heal very quickly."

Kirk had come across the room and stood at the foot of the bed.  He
stared at Spock deep in thought.  _Who would do such a thing?_

Yvresh was speaking in low fast tones to the computer input at her
shoulder. She listened to the output.  Then spoke louder and moved to
the vacuum tube.  A cartridge arrived bearing a hypo.

"Can you treat him for the after-effects?" Kirk asked, looking from
McCoy to Yvresh.

"With high probability of success, yes," she replied.  She held the
hypo out to McCoy. "Three cc's gammaduroxine."

McCoy declined to take the hypo and crossed his arms and chewed on his
cheek. "It'll work, but the side effects will be even worse on him
then a full Vulcan. You better give it to him, he'll never forgive me
if I do."

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

Yvresh replied. "It is one of a class of drugs given to stroke or head
injury patients to help the brain remap information. All have
similar side effects; this is the most effective one."

A standoff ensued.  Kirk suddenly remembered Spock's parents.  "I'll
go let Sarek and Amanda know that we've found the problem." He headed
for the door and paused in the doorway.  "Spock," he said turning
around, "take your medicine."  He let it sound like a half-order.

Spock's parents were still in the conference room where he had left
them.  He knocked and triggered the door.  The conversation stopped
and they both looked at him.  He smiled at them.  "They've found the
problem and are arguing about the treatment if you would like to come
down."  A look of relief passed Amanda's face which she masked as she
stood up. 

"So what is the difficulty?" Sarek asked as the entered the hallway.

Kirk took a deep breath and shook his head. "Someone has, I guess one
could say, attacked Spock." He looked at them. Consternation was not
an emotion Vulcan's tried to mask, apparently. "Maybe the doctors can
explain it better." They entered the room.

Yvresh looked up and bowed slightly. She said something Vulcan in
greeting.

"Kirk said you have found the problem," Sarek prompted.

"Actually, it was Maple here who recognized the symptoms."  She
indicated the Human standing beside her.  Sarek turned toward him.
Maple looked like he wished the earth would swallow him up.

He managed a shrug. "No biggie," he said uncertainly. 

Kirk looked at Sarek and noticed he was giving Maple that insect
specimen kind of look that Vulcans sometimes favored.  

The human swallowed hard.  "Ya know, I have about a hundred things to
do yet tonight, uh, today and really should get to it."  He gestured
at the door with his thumb as he sidestepped toward it."  The door
triggered.  "Ah, hope you feel better," he said to Spock.

"I'll be right back," Kirk said and followed Maple out.

"Just a minute." Kirk called to the figure scurrying down the hallway.

Maple turned and seeing just Kirk, stopped. Kirk smiled at him as he
caught up. "I want to thank you personally," Kirk said by way of
explanation.

"Aw, nothing really."

"It is to me," Kirk said seriously. He gestured back down the hall
with his head. "Spock is very important to me. If you hadn't noticed
what was wrong he may have had to stay here on medical leave."

That's right, he is a starship captain, Maple thought.  Forgot that
for a moment.  Must have been the smile.

Kirk looked at the figure, scuffing his toe nervously on the polished
floor. "How long have you worked here?"

Maple looked up surprised, "Uh, four years or so. I guess." He grinned
sheepishly, "Hard to keep track with the other calendar they use
here." No one had ever asked that.

"Can I give you something in gratitude?"

"Naw, it's all right," he said turning away.

"Are you certain? Maybe a bottle of Romulan Ale?"

Maple stopped and turned back slowly. "You serious?"  Romulan Ale was
extremely illegal. His mind worked. "Well... it would do well in
trade...."  He stopped. "Would you be offended if I traded it?"  Yes,
in trade he could get amazing things for a bottle of Romulan Ale
DELIVERED inside of one of the strictest customs zones in the
federation.

Kirk grinned. "You can do whatever you like with it." Then added quieter,
"Just don't tell anyone where you got it."

"Well, I'll accept your gift, but it isn't necessary," he said, mind
still working.

"When the ship returns, I'll send someone down with it." Kirk started
to move away.  "Take care, Maple and thanks."

Maple didn't move as Kirk started to walk away.  "You know..." he
started and Kirk paused.  "I never could imagine how otherwise sane
people could follow one crazy guy to the edge of the galaxy..."  He
shrugged. "I think I get it a little now."

Kirk grinned more broadly and winked at him before walking away.

Maple stood in the hallway wondering if maybe he were missing
something important in his life. He finally shook his head and walked
down to his office.

Kirk walked back into the room, Yvresh had the floor.  "How about
this: you get the gammaduroxine dose and in a half hour you can go
home."  Spock looked stubborn, arms crossed.  He looked up at McCoy.

Bones said, "Hey, as your physician, I think you should have it, so
don't look at me for support."

Yvresh held up the hypo.  "Any other discussion?" No one replied.  She
injected Spock in the arm.

Kirk pulled McCoy aside. "What are the side effects?" 

McCoy frowned. There was no way to avoid being overheard in a room
full of Vulcans.  "Well, the usual: upset stomach, headache, and
often... emotional distress."

The shot had already been given.  "No other way?" Kirk asked.

"The side effects will be gone in 36 hours, and by then he should be
over the effects of the zorba-whatever-thing.  Without it, we've no
idea how long the damage will last."

"So all that's left is to figure out who did this to him." Kirk set
his jaw.

***************************

Sarek woke and sat up suddenly.  Beside him Amanda stirred, "What is
it Husband?"

Sarek listened to something in the distance. "Spock is having a
nightmare."

Amanda teleported abruptly to thirty years ago and similar nights.
She sat up also but couldn't hear anything.  Sarek swung his legs out
of the bed. "I will go," he said.

The door to Spock's room opened soundlessly and Sarek entered and
closed it behind him, not wishing to wake the guests.  Spock was
breathing harshly.  As Sarek approached he noticed the tangled covers
and Spock's hand clenching and unclenching around something invisible.

"Spock," he spoke sternly.  Spock's eyes opened instantly and he looked
wildly around himself.  He realized where he was and tried to sit up.
Tangled blankets prevented this.  Sarek sat down and helped Spock
release the twisted material.  Spock jerked the now free blanket toward
himself and shuddered.  He looked down and away in shame.  Sarek
watched him exert an amazingly fierce, though not complete, control
over himself. 

"Leave me, Father," Spock said hoarsely. From one nightmare into another.

"You will be all right?"

Spock shuddered again and bit his hard lip in his effort at control.
"Yes."

Sarek started to stand, then stopped. "Spock, you have been injured
and medicated, there is no shame in a lapse under such circumstances."
He looked closely at his son; such an extreme effort of control was
not sustainable.

"Please Father, I beg you to leave me."

Sarek stood.  "As you wish, my son."  

Sarek returned to his bed and lay meditating.  The encounter bothered
him: he should have been able to ease Spock's distress.  Perhaps he
should have sent Amanda.

An hour later he heard Spock cry out again. It cut into him not unlike
a physical blade would.  Amanda slept soundly beside him.  He
slipped out of the bed and the room without disturbing her.  He walked
down the hall this time past Spock's door to the first guest room
door.  Sarek entered silently and walked over to the bed.  Starlight
was sufficient for Vulcan eyes to study the sleeping Kirk.  The
Human's head tipped toward the window, the blankets pulled up close
under his chin in the cool night air. Deeply asleep. Sarek thought of
the usual Human disdain for being woken, then thought of this Human's
past concern for his son.

"Captain Kirk," Sarek said in a volume calculated to waken, but not
startle. Kirk was instantly alert, a logical trait Sarek considered,
for starfleet personnel.

Kirk sat up. "What is it, Ambassador?" 

"I have a favor to ask of you, Kirk."  Sarek stood beside the bed in
the dim light, hands clasped inside his dark robe.

"Certainly. What is it?" Kirk blinked at him. Colored spots floated in
his dark vision.

Sarek noted the eagerness to serve, even from a deep sleep.  It didn't
surprise him; he assumed his son's respect for this being was based on
logic.  "I ask that you awaken Spock and verify that he is all right."

Kirk swung his legs around to the floor.  He was sleeping in the buff
and couldn't at the moment remember Vulcan mores about nudity.  He
groped for his pants on the chair beside the bed.  "May I ask why you,
uh, don't?" Kirk bailed on keeping himself covered, and concentrated
on pulling his pants on.

"I did so an hour ago," Sarek replied. "He was not pleased with my
presence."

Kirk stood up and looked at him. "Why wake him at all?"

"He is having a nightmare," Sarek said quietly as if the information
did not pass willingly.

"Don't want to let him sleep through it?" He gave up on finding his
shirt in the dark.

"That is not wise for a Vulcan. He will remember the whole dream later."

Kirk smoothed his hair back and took that in. "I didn't know that."
He thought back, wondering if that information could have been useful
in the past.  He took a deep breath, "I'll take care of him."

Kirk walked down the hall to Spock's room.  He entered and crossed
quietly to the bed.  Spock was half uncovered and laying tense on his
back in only a long shriff.  The air in the room was chilly.  Kirk
stooped and pulled the blanket back over the lean body.  The movement
made Spock whimper in his dream.  The sound struck Kirk in the
midsection and forced him to sit down suddenly on the edge of the bed.  

Sarek had said to wake him.

Kirk put a hand on Spock's shoulder and called his name gently. Spock
started awake with a gasp. "You're safe, Spock. Relax." Spock
shuddered. Without consciously planning to, Kirk ran the backs of his
fingers down the side of the warm face. An eyebrow went up but Spock
didn't pull away.

"Bad dream?" Kirk asked.  Spock nodded and looked to the side.  Kirk
wondered idly what would constitute a nightmare for someone as strong
as Spock.  "I've been trying to think of who would use an old
immersion game on you, and why they would want you to experience what
you did. I can't come up with any good ideas."

"Nor I, Captain." Spock sounded very tired.  Kirk couldn't remember
ever hearing such exhaustion in the other's voice.

"Sleep. I'll stay with you," he said gently, then shivered, shirtless
in the cool air.

Spock took notice of this. "There is a robe in the top drawer."  

Kirk found a thick robe and slipped it on gratefully before sitting
back down.  "Did I wake you, Captain?" Spock asked curiously.

"No. Your father did."  

Spock digested this.

"He said when he woke you, you weren't exactly happy to see him."

"Happy?" Spock said dubiously.

Kirk was adjusting the collar on the robe. "Well, you know. That
Vulcan equivalent word: 'pleased'."

Oddly, the teasing made Spock feel better.

"Sorry. I shouldn't give you hard time."  He straightened and pulled
the blankets up better over Spock's shoulders.

"It is quite all right." Then added, "Jim."

Sarek's eyebrows went up as he hovered silently in the hallway.  He had
felt it was his duty to assure that Spock was properly cared for, now
perhaps he was just evesdropping. 

Spock's voice spoke gravelly, "I wish you did not see me like this."

Sarek had been about to depart but now wished to hear Kirk's answer to
that.

"You've seen me in worse shape, Spock.  Don't worry about it."

Ah, that was the difference, Sarek realized.  This Human and his son
were equals.  Admitting to weakness to sooth another was not an
approach he himself would have considered.  He departed silently.

Kirk lay a hand over the blankets covering Spock.  "Sleep," he
commanded. "I'll keep watch and wake you if necessary."

Spock nodded and closed his eyes.  A few moments later he shuddered,
but still seemed to be drifting off.

An hour and a half past.  Kirk's eyes began to refuse to stay open.
He looked with longing at the sliver of open bed beside him.  He
debated with himself.  If he fell asleep sitting up, he'd fall over
and certainly wake Spock.  If he moved to a chair, he might not awaken
if Spock became agitated.  He wished there were a yeoman to call for
some coffee.

His eyes closed and his head nodded again.  Okay, he thought.  I'll
just lay down for a few minutes.  He stretched out in the narrow space
beside Spock on top of the coverings and fell instantly asleep.

The first faint glow of the sun was lightening the ceiling when Spock
woke.  He had slept dream-free the rest of the night.  He turned to
look for Kirk and both eyebrows shot up when he found him sound
asleep, arms close around himself in the narrow space at the edge of
the bed.  Diffuse orange light highlighted the Human features. The
moment of Kirk's death from the virtual game returned to him unbidden.
He tried to exert any control over the surge of emotion.  Turning to
stare at the ceiling calmed him.  When he felt in control again, he
turned back to Kirk.  The Human's chest rose and fell in steady
rhythm, faster than normal in the thin Vulcan air.  Like a seesaw the
scene returned again.

"I have been honored to serve with you, Captain," he whispered. 

Spock's voice woke him. He tried to replay what had been said in his
mind, but couldn't capture it.  He propped himself up on an elbow.
"Are you all right?"

Spock nodded.  Kirk sat up and stretched his neck.  "I'm sorry, I fell
asleep when I was supposed to be watching you."

"It is all right, Captain."

"Did you have any more dreams?" 

Spock sat up also. "No. I slept quite soundly. Your presence must have
been calming to me."  Did he really just say that?  Kirk was giving
him an unrecognizable look. He shook himself and tried to fight the
flush which was spreading into his ears.  "Forgive me Captain, I am
not myself," he said, closing his eyes against the small strange smile
on Kirk's face.

"Feel like breakfast?" Kirk asked to change the subject.

Spock nodded and stood up.  Kirk looked down at the robe he had
borrowed. "You may wear that to breakfast if you wish," Spock said. He
himself was pulling a casual overrobe out of the closet.

Kirk headed for the door. "Will anyone be up at this hour?"

"My mother, certainly."

Kirk headed down the hallway to the main rooms in the front of the
house.  He could hear subdued activity in the kitchen.  "Good
morning," Amanda greeted him.

Kirk looked up.  Coffee, his mind said when it saw the glass
pot. "Good morning, Lady Amanda."

"Would you like some?" She indicated the pot.  Kirk nodded and
accepted a cup.  "Please, sit down," she said, indicating the large
stone table that would have looked at home in an optics lab.  "Spock,"
she said, surprised.  Spock sat across from Kirk at the table.  "Are
you well?"  Spock nodded. "Would you like some breakfast?" Spock
nodded again.  Kirk wondered if he were afraid to speak.  "What would
you like, Captain?"

"Oh, anything is fine."

"Would you like an omelette?" 

"That would be wonderful." He stood up. "But I can make it".

"No, no," she said. "You are a guest, I insist."  She brought in and
set in front of Spock a plate with several small cakes and some
fruit. Spock picked up a cake and bit into it.

Well at least he has an appetite, Kirk thought.  A deep brown,
formal-looking robe swished by and Sarek sat down beside Spock.  Kirk
noticed that Spock suddenly seemed unable to swallow his cake.  It
pained Kirk, so he looked away.  He understood that Spock couldn't
bear to have his father see any weakness in him.  It's only been
twelve hours, the medication will still be effecting him.  Certainly
he knows that his father understands that, Kirk thought.

Amanda set a plate in front of him. As he cut into the omelette he
wondered if he should wake Bones.

Spock stood up suddenly and Kirk looked up at him. His first's face
was a mask of control.  Kirk noticed that Sarek didn't look up.  Spock
nodded to Kirk then walked stiffly toward the hallway.  Kirk looked
back at his own plate.  He had gone from famished to no appetite in
that instant.  He ate anyway.  Some part of his mind noted that it was
the best omelette he'd had in a decade.

Sarek and Amanda were filling in each other on their schedules.  "Is
it all right if I use the terminal?" Kirk asked.

Amanda answered. "Certainly. Use it as much as you like."  

*****************

Kirk had some vague idea about trying to research what happened to
Spock.  He spent most of the day at the terminal flipping through
library and periodical databases.  Other than historical documents, he
didn't find anything.  The consensus in the media at the time the
zorba was popular was that their weren't many units sold on Vulcan.
Kirk couldn't decide if that was smug naivete or fact.

He stood up and walked down the hall.  McCoy had taken up Yvresh's
offer of a tour of the hospital.  Kirk was somewhat surprised that he
would leave when Spock was not over the full side effects of the
medication.  Not that Spock was being even the least bit a
cooperative patient.  The thought that maybe McCoy had gone sweet on
Yvresh refused to enter his mind.  Kirk walked past Spock's room. The
door was open.  He looked in and asked the meditating figure, "Need
anything?"  Spock's eyes opened.  Kirk was relieved that they looked
almost normal.  Spock shook his head. "No, Captain."

McCoy had run another neuroscan on Spock that morning with a unit the
hospital had lent them.  The CMO had seemed pleased with the readings,
which had eased Kirk's mind somewhat.  The thought of someone
inserting some rogue computer into Spock's brain raised his hackles.
He stopped himself: pacing was not going to help.

He decided to kill some time in the library.  When he emerged the sun
was beginning to set.  Long rays of red light stretched the entire
long main corridor of the house.  Kirk wondered if it was some kind of
solstice alignment.  He took the book he'd found and carried it out to
the garden.  A wall of ivy created a natural alcove where Kirk cracked
open an old book on sailing around the South Pacific.  

He read until he heard an aircar door close and Sarek and Amanda in
the middle of a conversation.

Amanda's voice was saying. "Of course, Husband. But remember that it
was just an idle thought I had.  It has no basis in logic, really."

Then Sarek's voice, "As you said, it may have been some kind of test of
a potential son-in-law."

Kirk's eyebrows soared.  He strained to hear each word.

The voices had stopped moving.  Sarek said, "I will go and speak with
T'rainh."

"Be diplomatic, my husband."

Kirk could hear footsteps heading back to the aircar.  His whole body
and mind clicked into high gear.  He set the book down on the bench
and reached around for the pocket region guide that he had been using
while doing research at the terminal.  The guide illuminated and he
scrolled down through the city directory. There was only one T'rainh.
Thank goodness for Vulcan naming style, Kirk thought, feeling good to
be in command mode again.  The door to the house closed and Kirk was
off like a hound.

******************

Sarek swung the knocker at the clan house of Cvgrseqw.  He settled
himself into a calm state before the door opened.  The teen who opened
the door didn't quite mask his surprise.  "D'jurena" the boy managed
with a stutter then swallowed hard.  Sarek followed him into the
common room.  The entire clan, it appeared, was clustered in the room
sharing a meal.  Hopefully he would be excused for interupting a meal
that was unusually early by most standards.  It wasn't a feast and Sarek
wondered if so many always gathered for every dinner. The thought
unsettled him: his own clan honored privacy above everything.

T'rainh looked up at him from the center of the group.  She stood when
she recognized the visitor.  "You honor us." She sounded as though she
truly meant it.

"I have something I need to discuss with you," Sarek said formally.

T'rainh's eyebrow went up.  "We have no hidden clan business in this
family." She said with an unspoken "in contrast to yours".  Most in
the room had returned to eating and speaking in low tones, but Sarek
sensed the attention in the room shift to them.

Sarek bowed acknowledgement to this and reformulated his thoughts.
There was no logical reason to keep the attack on Spock a secret, even
though he had to admit to some shame in it.  Well, if all of the clan
business were always open... "We spoke once about a bonding between
D'rwen and my son." No one in the room reacted.  T'rainh nodded. Drann
smirked which captured Sarek's attention for a moment.  Drann, a thin,
weak and somewhat strange teen who fixated on all things not Vulcan,
sat on the floor poking at an Earth computer pad.

Sarek ignored him. "I come to ask if you know of any attempts to test
Spock."

T'rainh's brow furrowed.  She wasn't following this. Sarek was being
indirect perhaps. He seemed quite uncomfortable.  T'rainh had no
sympathy for those who wanted to keep difficult issues obscured.  She decided
to be direct. "What has happened?"

"Someone used a device on Spock against his will; An antique virtual
reality game."

"I am surprised that you would think anyone in this family would wish
Spock any harm."

Sarek suddenly realized how this could look: like he didn't trust
them.  "I do not think harm was the intent.  The only logical thought
we have had is that it was intended as some kind of trial."

T'rainh thought a moment.  If she wanted to nail Sarek up by his
impeccable formal robe she could but that would accomplish nothing
except a few moments of satisfaction.  Better to be helpful, he would
be grateful for smoothing his error.  And she did believe it was an
error.  "What was this device?" she asked, honestly curious.

Sarek took a deep breath. "It is a device from the mid-twenty-first
Earth century.  It works using a rather invasive thin-filament network
of probes that enter the skull and form a sensory immersion."

No wonder he is upset. T'rainh thought.

"A zorba!" Drann exclaimed.  T'rainh could tell by looking at Sarek's
expression that Drann had named the device correctly.  The room had
fallen silent.

T'rainh walked over to where Drann was sitting cross-legged on the
floor, boney knees like frail wings. "You know of this?"  She
demanded.  Drann looked concerned a moment then decided he'd done
nothing wrong.  "T'liun has one," he spoke informatively.

"How do you know that?"

"Urka Sren gave me a tour of the collection once."  He pouted a bit
then. "Wouldn't let me try it out though."

"A wise decision," Sarek commented. T'liun, T'pau's younger sister, and her
husband had kept all of the strange gifts the outworlders had brought
over the years.  Drann would have been fascinated by the old Earth
memorabilia.  It also increased the probability that someone within
his own clan was responsible.

Sarek bowed, fairly low, to T'rainh.  "My appreciation for your
assistance, and regrets for any offense."

T'rainh bowed in return.  "I hope Spock is recovering."

Sarek nodded affirmative and turned to leave.  The teen who answered
the door, jumped up to show him out again.

***************************

The distance was much farther by foot than Kirk had imagined following the
guide.  The guide seemed to think a faster walking pace was the norm.
Thank goodness the sun has set, Kirk thought as he finally made the
street he was aiming for.  He breathed the thin air in great gulps
and leaned against a stone wall for a moment.  Sarek's aircar was at
the far end of the street.  "Ugh," Kirk moaned when it took off again.  He
followed it with his eyes as it cleared the buildings and started
gently back the way they had just come.

Kirk walked back along the last the major boulevard, probably well-lit
to Vulcan eyes, but a bit dim for Kirk's.  An automated tram trundled
up.  Kirk jumped on board and smiled at the two other passengers who
turned away and ignored him.  Well, that explains all of the jokes
about Vulcan hospitality, he thought.  He stepped back out to the
running board to better see the scenery and noticed that they were
following along with Sarek's aircar.  He watched it for several blocks
then started when it dipped down to land suddenly, far before their
own estate.  Kirk checked for obstacles and stepped off of the moving
tram.

The street he walked down in the direction of the landing turned out
to be a dead end, as did the next.  He didn't feel like cutting rudely
through some random Vulcan hedge to get across especially since most
hedges were either spiney or thorney or both.  He walked down to a
much more major street and then up, trying not to loose the landing
location in his spacial memory.

Sarek found T'liun's house to be empty.  He wrote out a note inquiring
about the zorba on the computer pad beside the door, then walked back
to the aircar and stood and waited to see if they would return soon.
T'liun was a musician and practice usually ended about this time so it
would be logical to wait at least ten minutes.

Sarek didn't notice the dark, silent form move toward the computer pad
on the pillared porch behind him.

Kirk was just about to bail on finding it when the end of the narrow
path he'd been following widened into a stonepaved parking area.  It
was quite dark to Kirk's eyes and he strained to see into the open
area.  He saw an aircar outlined by the light of a large glowing
window in the distance.  Someone stood at the aircar that could be
Sarek.  Kirk opened his mouth to call out when two other figures lept
silently over the wall behind the first. One of them neck pinched the
figure and they both bent to pick the being up.

It took Kirk a moment to react.  It seemed so incongruous a thing to
see on Vulcan, but then again, someone must have done the same to
Spock.  Kirk took off running, no longer aware of the heavy gravity
and thin air.  He came up just as the mysterious figures were working
the unconscious form over the chest-high stone wall.  Kirk grabbed the
closer one in a choke hold and wrenched backward.  The figure released
its burden and twisted in a wholely inhuman way to free itself.  Kirk
punched instinctively, since he couldn't see much of anything in the
darkness.  His fist struck a glancing blow to a hard jaw and the
momentum of the swing carried Kirk forward.

Hands grabbed at him and were suddenly on his neck, thumbs pressing
painfully into the soft flesh under his jaw. Talshaya! Kirk's mind
screamed at him. Primal fear took Kirk then and he jerked and twisted
his entire body against hands three times stronger than his own. A
grotesque wet crunch sounded too loudly in his ears as he tossed himself
heedlessly away from the hands.

"Kroykah!" an all too familiar voice yelled from somewhere.  Kirk
dropped abruptly to the ground and he could sense the figures moving
away with haste.  He tried to stand up, which took two attempts.
Someone opened the aircar door and illumination from within it spilled
out onto the ground.

"Sarek" Kirk whispered and moved over to the unmoving form on the
ground by the wall.  Kirk took off his jacket, rolled it up and placed
it under the Vulcan's head.  His own head swam ominously. He stood up...barely.

"He will be all right in a few minutes," the elderly voice said. Kirk
looked up at T'Pau.  She looked the way he remembered, except somewhat
less-formally dressed. She studied Kirk closely. God, can't pass out
in front of her, Kirk thought. He realized in panic that he couldn't
swallow.  Liquid seemed to be getting into his lungs somehow, he could
hear it rattling in his chest. He stumbled over and sat down on the
edge of the aircar seat. He coughed painfully and couldn't tell in the
odd blue light if there was blood on his hand or not.

Sarek stirred then.  He sat up immediately and looked into the light
from the aircar.  "T'Pau," He said in greeting as he stood up.

"What is happening, Sarek?" she asked in a voice that expected an answer. 

"I am not yet certain. Did you see who attacked me?"

She paused. "It was Starn and another I did not recognize." Sarek
started to speak again and T'Pau held up her knarled hand to stop him.
"I believe this one is in need of care." She she nodded at Kirk.

Kirk was only dimly aware of Sarek approaching him.  He didn't see the
stunned look Sarek gave T'Pau when he saw the injury to Kirk's neck.
His legs were lifted into the car.  Then Sarek walked around and
entered on the other side.  "I will take him to the House where his
own surgeon is, then I will contact you."  T'Pau nodded and stepped
backward from the aircar using her staff for support.  Yes, Kirk
thought slowly, _Bones._ An indescribable ache stabbed his chest at the
thought.

Kirk was even less aware of the landing.  People seemed to be
everywhere around him. Someone was carrying him into the house.  Kirk
hoped it wasn't Sarek. "Put him here!" McCoy shouted. He was placed
on something hard.  McCoy was giving orders to Spock. Someone was
cutting his neck.  Hold him still, Spock." Powerful hands had hold of
him; he moaned his helplessness against their strength. This didn't
seem much like rescue. Suddenly he could breath freely again though it
sounded like he was breathing through a drinking straw.

"Can you hear me Jim?" McCoy asked. Kirk nodded and immediately
regretted it, then opened his eyes. "Your trachea is partially
crushed."

"What about the cartoid?" Spock asked. 

"Looks worse than it is. The scanner makes it out to be a very small
tear. You're seeing the blood under the skin that already leaked; the
tear has nearly stopped bleeding."

Kirk looked around himself.  To his chagrin, he found himself lying on
the diningroom table. Sarek was just above his head, Spock and McCoy
were just beside him. His head was clearing now that he could breath
fully.

"What happened?" Spock demanded of Sarek. 

"I stopped to see T'Liun. They apparently have an old zorba device in
their collection of Earth items. Starn and another attacked me as I
was awaiting their return."

"His companion was most likely Sunal," Spock said stoicly.

"Do you think it was they who used the zorba on Spock?" Amanda asked. 

"It would not surprise me." Spock said.

"For what reason?" Sarek asked.

Spock looked at him. "They tormented and threatened me most of my
childhood. Twice they tried take my life." Spock continued to stare at
his father. "Or don't you remember?"

Amanda intervened. "Spock, you were only five and somewhat prone to
exaggeration."

Spock's eyes widened. He looked from his mother to his father. Then to
his father said, "You didn't believe me."  Kirk looked up at Spock,
every line in his body spoke of extreme anger.  Spock started to step
toward Sarek.  With more strength than Kirk imagined he had, he
grabbed Spock's shirt.  _He's in his uniform,_ Kirk thought abstractly,
_good, then he'll understand this._

"Spock," Kirk croaked.  It was hard to talk since only some air was
passing over his vocal cords. "Stop. You aren't yourself and you'll
regret it later." Spock ignored him.  "Sit down. That's an order."
Spock stiffened and looked at him.  Kirk pointed down at the chair
beside the table. "Sit."  Spock obeyed, not meeting anyone's gaze.
There was silence for a few moments.  Sarek gazed at Kirk in
amazement.

Spock looked down at Kirk, at the ugly bruise forming on the side of
his neck where someone, a Vulcan, had tried to snap his neck. Spock
stared at Kirk's chest, watching it rise and fall. He spoke quietly
with a trace of malice, "You did not believe me and now this has
happened."

"Spock." Kirk managed to get some command tone in his raspy
voice. "Desist.  I'm injured because I took on two superior opponents
unarmed. All right?"  Spock didn't reply. "All right, Commander?"

"Yes, Captain," Spock replied quietly.

McCoy spoke. "I need to get him to surgery, repair his trachea, make
sure he has no other injuries." 

"I contacted the med center, they're waiting for a signal to beam you
in," Amanda informed him, handing him a netphone.  To Sarek she
said, "He came to your aid?" She seemed to be teasing him a bit. 

"He and T'Pau."

McCoy made a small strangling noise as he collected his equipment.  He
signaled for a beam in and he and Kirk dissolved a few seconds later.

"I was unconscious at the time, one of the two neck pinched me." Spock
looked up at him then back at the table.  He remained silent.  "Your
captain is a fine Human, Spock. Well-deserving of loyalty."

Spock did not reply.  Was this Sarek's way of telling him he that it
was okay to obey Kirk, even in a family matter?  He hoped the intense
emotional pain he was feeling was still a side-effect of the drug,
otherwise he wasn't certain how he would continue to function
long-term.

*****************

A transporter beam started and finished in the common room.  The
occupants of the room turned and Kirk and McCoy appeared.  "Good as
new," McCoy announced then noticed T'Pau and two other clan elders.
"I, ah, have some paperwork to do. Call me if you need anything," he
said to Kirk before escaping to the guest rooms.

Kirk shook his head. "Take a chair, Captain," Sarek invited.  Kirk sat
down off to one side but next to Spock who watched him closely.

Kirk smiled slightly at him. "McCoy wanted me to tell you he repaired
the cartoid anyway from a graft they grew for him on the spot.  He
thought it would make you feel better."  Spock noticed him swallow
with difficulty. "You should have seen him, he was like a kid in a
candy store in that operating theatre."  Spock also noticed the shiny
areas where dermaplast had been used to seal Kirk's skin.  He
supressed the anger that rose again.

"I trust you are well, Captain?" Sarek asked.  Kirk nodded. The
bruising from the torn artery still stained his neck. "We have been
discussing how best to deal with this situation."

"Have you found them?" Kirk asked.

"That is being worked on," T'Pau replied gravely.

The door knocker sounded.  Sarek strode over and opened the front
door.  Two bound figures were forced in, pushed by Stonn and a female
Vulcan Kirk didn't recognize, though she looked like she could be
Stonn's sister.  "You were looking for these?"  Stonn asked.  He looked
even burlier than Kirk remembered.  The Vulcan on the left resisted
and the female tripped him effortlessly, sending her charge to the
floor.  Kirk noticed that his hands were bound with an ordinary sash.
The figure managed to get back to his knees.  Stonn forced his own
prisoner to his knees as well using pure brute force which must have
been substantial.

Sarek paced once before them and began to speak.

"I don't bow to you," Starn sneered.

Sarek stopped. "Do you recognize any authority over you?" He gestured
at the line-up of elders.

"No," he asserted.

"Then it irrelevant who performs the statement."  

Starn grimaced at this logical trap.  

Spock turned to Kirk. "Do you recognize him?"

"I recognize the sock I gave him on the jaw." He tried not to smile as
he said this.  Starn had two dark green marks about a knuckle apart,
maring his otherwise smooth angular face.

Sarek noted this as well. "Why did you attempt to kill this Human?"

"He is pathetically weak, what does it matter?" Starn stretched his
shoulders against the bond. "His parents should have left him to die
in the desert as an infant.  His presence is an insult to Vulcan."

_Whoa,_ Kirk thought. 

Sarek gazed at Starn as calmly as if Starn were telling him the
evening menu. Starn was just getting started. "You shame and weaken
this family," he said to Sarek, "by mixing with this fragile Human
blood." He choked on the word 'Human'.

Kirk leaned over to Spock and whispered, "This ground been covered
before?"  Spock nodded.  Kirk sat back, trying to assimilate the
situation.

"We have grown weak as a race, and you only make us weaker more
rapidly," Starn continued.  He tossed his head at Spock, "You spawn
this pathetic being and have the gall to pretend that he is Vulcan."

Kirk stood up and walked over to the kneeling Vulcan.  Sarek turned to
Kirk. "He is allowed his say," he said.

Something about this statement resounded inside of Kirk like a gong.
It occurred to him with a stab of fear that
Vulcan had no criminal justice system.  It was a saying in fact, 'the
Vulcan's have no justice system'. Most used it to mean that Vulcan
didn't need one.  Kirk now imagined a sickening twist to this.  One
too many encounters with unaltered ancient custom made his imagination
run loose.

Starn interrupted his thoughts. "These Humans... these
creatures...will outbreed and overrun us."  He gave Kirk a sickened
look, "You disgust me.  You are soft and even though you are grown,
you are weaker than a five-year-old.  You even believe yourself to be
intelligent."  He seemed to try a laugh but it was obviously not
well-practiced.

"You are fundamentally mistaken, Starn," Kirk said. "It is the truly
strong who put the needs of society above their own desires.  We are
stronger as a cooperative group than as a random association of
individuals." Kirk leaned into Starn's face, "The STRONG supress their
base instincts and contribute to the common good, the WEAK don't have
enough discipline so they are selfish and want things their own way
without working for it." He paused. "They get their false sense of
superiority from harming and exploiting others."

Starn stared at him.  "You are foolish and fortunate that I am
restrained," he threatened in a low voice.  He tried to lunge at Kirk.
Stonn yanked him back to the floor.  Kirk didn't budge or even react.
"You are not frightened of me? I could break you in half without a
thought."

Kirk raised an eyebrow at him.  He hadn't intended to make Starn
condemn himself. "Starn. I have been Romulan prisoner," he held up
his fingers, "three times."  Starn sat back, this was not something
he'd apparently ever considered before. "Considering that I am still
in one piece, how could I possibly be concerned with a MERE Vulcan."
That insult seemed to hit home as Starn fell silent, brow furrowed.

"How did you escape?" Kirk looked up at the sound of Stonn's
incredulous voice.

"Oh. Let's see..." Kirk thought. "Once by concocting a poison, once by
stealing part of their defense system and installing it on our own
ship, once by blowing up a military installation and escaping in the
confusion."

"How many Romulans have you killed?" Stonn asked in his metered speech.

"Oh gods, let's see." Kirk thought about it. "That doesn't even
include the two warbirds we destroyed."

"You are a murderer more times over than you can keep track of," Starn
said accusingly.

The room was completely silent. "I didn't want to do it," Kirk said
more quietly. "They keep stupidly leaving us no choice."  Starn gave
him a different look now, one with less disgust and more confusion.
"The true irony of you wanting all of us Humans left out to perish, is
we are the ones out there protecting the perimeter of the 70 sectors
so you can sit back and pursue other things," Kirk said to Starn.

"It is a disgrace. We should defend ourselves," Starn said coldly.

Kirk glanced at Sarek who looked unreadable as usual. "There are many
Humans who would agree with you on that one, Starn."

Starn looked surprised and more confused by this unexpected validation
of his opinion.

Sarek stepped up to Kirk.  "Do you forgive this being the harm he has
done to you?"

Kirk stared at him, uncertain how to answer what sounded like an
official question.  He really wanted to avoid what his imagination was
conjuring up as the extreme of Vulcan justice. "I suppose I do,"  Kirk
said.  Spock stood suddenly.  Kirk added: "Do I think he wouldn't try
to snap my neck again the next chance he got?  No."  Kirk shook his
head.  "They aren't the same thing."

"Wise of you to distinguish, Kirk. Do you have something to say
Spock?"

"How many has he killed?" Starn interrupted accusingly.

"Spock isn't on trial," Kirk said.

"Maybe he should be," Starn said slyly.

"Even I can see your logic slipping, Starn," Kirk said, cutting off
another reply from one of the elders. "You either want to live in a
society where the strong can do whatever they please to the weak, or
you don't. Spock and I have killed in self-defense when the security
of the Federation or the lives of innocents are threatened and you
think us unworthy and weak.  What makes you think you could survive in
the kind of society you wish for, you who have probably never killed
before?" Kirk's voice dropped.  "I've seen societies like you
describe. I've spent time in a few of them. I can tell you that they
go nowhere except into hellish oblivion."

"Better than dying because we are too weak to survive," Starn stated.

Kirk shook his head and retreated.

"We will move on to the attack on Spock," Sarek stated. He wished the
shame he felt at that statement were not present. "A device called a
'zorba' is missing from T'liun's collection.  Did you appropriate this
device and use it on Spock?"

"Yes. Sunal programmed it." The attention this caused made Sunal look
actively fearful. Starn continued, "I had a wager, that I could break
him." He gazed predatorially at Spock, "I won of course."  Spock
turned his head to the side slightly as if he'd been struck.  Starn
scoffed at this, "You are weak, Spock and being beside this Human
makes you even weaker."

"A wager with whom?" Sarek asked. Starn and Sunal were silent.  Sarek
turned to the elders, "We seem to be missing a few players in this
activity." He turned to Spock, "Any idea, Spock, who they might be?"

Spock shook his head.

"Too many possibilities to name?" Starn taunted.

Kirk saw a twinge pass over Spock's back as that hit home.  Kirk ached
to sooth the blows, knew he would have to later, but couldn't imagine
how he was going to manage it.

Sren, who looked about fifty years older than Sarek stood up.  He
nodded at Sarek who said conversationally, "Sunal is the weaker one.
Perhaps try him."  T'gweq, Stonn's sister put a heavy boot across
the back of Sunal's ankles and pulled his head back by his hair.  Sren
had his hands folded and was meditating.

My God, a forced meld Kirk thought.

Sunal looked terrified. "My family will not sanction this," he stammered.

Sarek turned to him calmly, "Your clan leader has turned you over to
us for disposition."

"No!" he said, "My father would never allow--"

"Your father has disowned you, Sunal," Sarek interrupted him calmly.
It was the matter-of-fact way he said it that struck fear into Kirk.

Sren raised his head, prepared presumeably, and approached the
restrained Vulcan. "No!" Sunal tossed his head as much as possible
with his hair caught from behind. "What have you done?" he demanded of
Starn who sat on his feet with a closed expression.

Sarek spoke, "I would add to the captain's comments by pointing out
that the only followers the weak can attract is those who are even
weaker."  He nodded at Sren.

Sren held Sunal's head with one hand and placed his hand in position
for a meld with the other. Sunal tried to jerk away and gave one
strangled gasp of desperation. Kirk realized he was gripping the arm
of his chair.  He forced himself to relax.  Sunal went limp at the
same time and Sren broke off the contact.  He looked to Sarek and the
other elders. "I only recognize one of them: Stenal and also one
called Vertg.  Minor players I would judge, but not innocent."

Starn looked at Sunal who had been released. "You are pathetic."

"You are insane," Sunal spat back.

"We will deal with the others independently,"  Sarek stated as he
walked up to Sunal. "What do you choose?" he asked.

Sunal's mouth worked a moment. He bowed his head. "I will leave."

Sarek turned to Starn, "Sunal chooses exile, do you also?"

"This is my home," Starn replied.

"Home is a place where others welcome you, which is not the case for
you," Sarek said simply.

"If I said yes, it will be too clean for you," Starn stated smugly.

T'Pau had stood up, leaning heavily on her staff. "It is the final
void, Starn, your katra will be left to scatter and dissappear among
the waste."

Kirk stiffened.  He wondered if he were following this correctly.

"I do not care. Better to not spend an eternity locked in a stone with
Vulcans like you."  Sunal stared at him with unmasked horror.

Sarek opened a box on the table and pulled out a jeweled dagger.  He
stood and gestured at Stonn who pulled Starn to his feet.  Kirk
noticed Amanda seemed to be at the edge of her control; she had her
hand to her mouth as she gazed at Sarek.  T'Pau glanced at her and
moving faster then would have been expected, intercepting Sarek.  She
spoke something to him and took the knife from him.  She followed
Stonn and Starn out the door.

"Where are they going?"  Kirk asked quietly.

Spock turned to him.  "To a ritual site in the desert."

Sarek turned back to his wife whose expression hadn't change much.
Kirk could read her mind: it doesn't matter that he didn't do it, just
that he was willing to.  Kirk closed his eyes to try to anchor
himself.  No Federation planets were on record as having a death
penalty, so how could one of the founding planets get away with still
executing citizens.  He turned it around: because they are a founding
planet, they get away with it.  Kirk felt torn between wanting justice
for Spock and knowing he was a Federation representative.

Kirk stood up and approached Sarek. "You disapprove?" Sarek
stated.  Kirk took a deep breath.  Amanda had returned to calm
control.  Their eyes met in mutual understanding.

"Yes," Kirk said.  He felt Spock come up behind him. "What were his
other choices?"

"Anything he could name,"  Sarek said.  "The council decides if it is
sufficient."

Kirk thought that over.  "Why did he want to die?" he asked.

"I believe," Sren answered for Sarek, "that he thought by forcing his
blood on our hands that we would become more like him.  A kind of
final statement for him."  He looked at Kirk, "I am curious why it
concerns you so when you have seen so much death."

Kirk looked squarely at him. "It is BECAUSE I've seen so much death
that I wish we could avoid any more of it."

Sren looked at Sarek.  "Are their many more Humans like this one?"

"A few," Sarek answered in a flat voice.

Kirk was still shaken when he entered his guest room.  Spock followed
silently.  It unseated Kirk more when McCoy stuck his head in the
door.  "Is the coast clear?" he asked.  "Is T'Pau gone?"  He strode in.
"I don't know what it is about her but I feel like I shouldn't tempt
fate or something."

Kirk pictured her leaving with the knife.  "If you only knew, Bones."

McCoy looked him over. "You all right Jim?"  He reached around to the
back of his belt and retrieved the scanner there.  He ran it in front
of Kirk's chest and looked at the readings.

"You missed quite a show, Bones," he said to the wall. 

"Did they figure out who used that game thing on you?"  McCoy asked Spock.

"I would say," Kirk replied.

"Well? What happened?" McCoy asked. He sat down across from Kirk and
spoke more seriously, "You look bit like you did when you saw Kodos
again."

Kirk closed his eyes and held them that way.  "Poor choice of
parallels, Bones."  Weariness caught up with him, he slipped his boots
off.  "Maybe tomorrow I can fill you in.  I'm bushed."  He lay back on
the bed over the covers.  He couldn't shake the vision of a moonless
desert night, Starn held fast before T'Pau with that dagger.  This
wasn't a mission; he didn't have to file a report with Starfleet.  
Thankfully.

Spock walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at him.  Kirk
studied him from below, seeing the distress hinted in his face.

"Bones, I need to talk to Spock alone..."

"Sure. Holler if you need me." He departed, shutting the door on his
way out.

"Sit down," Kirk said. Spock obeyed. Kirk thought over the last two
days. "Still angry?" Spock nodded. Kirk continued, "But that's not the
worst of it."  Spock shook his head. "Feeling betrayed?"

Spock's eyes closed and he nodded ever so slightly.  Kirk patted his
arm and Spock said, "They did not believe me. I thought that they
merely found it politically difficult to take any action."

It hurt Kirk to imagine Spock as a youngster here on this harsh planet
with no allies against those who despised him.  Tormented him, as he
had said.  "Would it help if he admitted he was wrong?"  Kirk asked,
referring to Sarek.

"He would never do that."

"That wasn't the question."

Spock finally opened his eyes. "Perhaps."

Kirk scratched the back of his own shoulder while he thought of what to say.

Spock spoke again. "We should depart tomorrow."

Sadness filled Kirk: this was going to destroy what had been rebuilt
between Spock and his father.  "You are just going to let Starn win, eh?"

Spock started, eyes flashing, revealing the intense anger still just
below the surface.  He stood up and turned away.

"Spock, you have to deal with this."

"I will supress it." he said to the window.

"I don't think that is going to work."  Kirk sat up, propped up on one
hand, rubbing his stiff neck with the other.  "Maybe you should
confront him, get it out in the open."

Spock turned back around.  "I tried to.  You would not allow it."

"Well, maybe I was wrong."  Kirk rubbed his gritty eyes.  "I just
didn't want you to regret doing anything while you were under the
effects of that medication.  Maybe you should just fight it out."
Spock started at that.  "I don't mean that literally, though..."  He
shrugged.  "I definitely don't think it is a good idea to leave with
it unresolved.  You do matter to him. Why else would he have come to
wake me last night to take care of you?"

Spock didn't respond.

Kirk lay back down.  "Just please wait until tomorrow.  I need a good
night's sleep."  After a few moments he heard Spock walk toward the
door.  "Spock."  He looked over at his friend, "I'll always be loyal to
you."

"I know that, Captain." He departed.


Kirk made his way down to breakfast with a deep dread.  McCoy was
already drinking juice and chatting with Amanda.  Kirk silently walked
over to the table where they had laid him the night before and sat
down.  Good mornings went around, half-hearted from Kirk.  Amanda
brought him a glass of juice and looked uncertainly at him.  He was
incapable of giving her a reassuring look in return.

Sarek came over from the terminal and nodded in greeting as he sat
down.

Kirk picked up a croissant from the basket in the middle of the table
and nibbled at it even though he had no appetite.

Spock came down the hall and sat across from him beside McCoy, rock
solid stoic.  Kirk frowned and looked around to find Sarek studying him
from the end of the table.  Kirk dropped his gaze and reached for the
jam.  Amanda came to the table with a plate of cakes and sat also,
looking around at all the faces.  Kirk didn't meet her gaze as she
expected.

"What is wrong?" she asked, seeing his sullen posture.

Kirk didn't expect such directness and he looked up with surprise.  He
then looked at Spock who was ignoring the exchange.  Kirk shook his
head. "I think we have a few unresolved issues here."  Spock looked up
at him with absolutely no expression.  "You have something to say
Spock?"  Kirk prompted.  The breakfast table wasn't the best place for
this, but he couldn't let it go on any longer.

"No," the expressionless voice replied.

Kirk wanted to growl at him.  McCoy paused in his obviously enjoyable
eating to look at the two of them facing off.  He waved his fork,
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the little tif you broke up
yesterday between these two."  He used the fork to indicate Sarek and
Spock.  "Would it?"

Kirk nodded.  "It would," he said resignedly at Spock's unresponsive
veneer of calm.  He knew what was still beneath it and it made him
wince to think about it.  To Spock he said, "You don't have anything
you want to say?"

"Are you now ordering me to speak?"

Kirk sat back, surprised by the taunting tone.  Spock was locked down
so tightly that when he let loose he was striking out at whatever was
convenient.  "Not holding on very well, are you?"  Kirk stated, trying
to point out the futility of the other's course.

Sarek and Amanda both froze at what was a very socially unacceptable
thing to say to a Vulcan.  Amanda was shocked that these two
apparently devoted friends were going at it so viciously.  "Spock,"
she commanded, "speak your mind so that we can return to a peaceful
household."

Kirk saw Spock's mask ripple for just an instant before
re-solidifying.  "There is no point," he said.

Kirk shook his head.  Amanda set her silver down and put long fingers
to her forehead as if to ward off a headache.  She tried to compose a
different tact to deal with her reticent son.

McCoy, ditching his southern social grace, dove in between bites of
omelette.  "I expect you are still upset at finding out they didn't
believe you all those years about those other two," he said to Spock.

"That would be it."  Kirk said after a long expressionless silence
from Spock.  His own anger was building.

Sarek sat straighter, eyebrow raised.

Spock looked hard at Kirk, "You two are going to speak for me?"

"If we have to."

"It is not your concern."

Kirk pushed his plate aside and stood up.  He leaned over the table to
stare his first officer down.  "It is my concern.  You're my friend and
I'm not going to let you throw your relationship with your father away
again."  He gestured down the table, surprised at the amount of anger
coming out of himself, wondering at its source.

"I suppose you know what it like to be betrayed by your father?"  Spock
asked, almost with a tone of accusation.

"No."  Kirk stood straight, eyes suddenly burning. "I don't."  He
tossed his crumpled napkin down on the table and walked away.  Having
found the source of the anger, he had to get away from this situation.

Spock didn't move.  He regretted his statement even as he spoke it,
and Kirk's bright eyes confirmed he had said the wrong thing.  Also
accusing a family member of betrayal was extremely serious and he
certainly hadn't meant to say it outright.

"What is this?"  Sarek asked McCoy, the free source of information this
morning.

McCoy cleared his throat and tilted his head sideways.  "Jim lost his
father when he was a young boy," he said softly.  Sarek's eyebrow
went up in comprehension.

"Spock."  Sarek said, shaking Spock out of his thoughts.  The tone was
the vastly disapproving one he remembered from childhood. 

Spock thought darkly to himself, _I have accused him of betrayal._

"Do you not think you should go to your captain?"

Stunned, Spock looked at him.  He managed to nod and stand up, feeling
an inexplicable lightness.

Kirk was in the guest bedroom watching the desert wind out the
window.  Spock shut the door and walked over to him.  "Jim.  I
am... sorry.  I did not intend to cause you difficulty."

"It's all right. I didn't know I still had this much pain remaining."
He turned to him. "I can't stand to watch you walk away from the
father you still have over something you can actually resolve if you
tried. It bothers me too much." 

Spock nodded, "I shall endeavor to do so then."

"For yourself though." 

Spock bowed acceptance of that.  They stood in silence for several
minutes. "Are you recovered?" Spock asked.

"Yes. But I want to spend a little time alone." He turned back to the
harsh landscape beyond the window.

"Keeping to yourself is never considered unusual or rude in Vulcan
society--you may have all of the time you wish," Spock said lightly.

A light rap sounded on the door.

"Come," Kirk said. The door opened to reveal Sarek and Kirk observed
Spock draw in a deep breath out of perhaps nervousness. "It's all
right," Kirk said as Spock started for the door.

Emotion stabbed at Spock. He is willing to stand beside me even though
he has his own difficulties to deal with right now. Spock thought,
amazed.  "I must apologize for my behavior, Father." 

"It has been a difficult two days, Spock, especially for you." Sarek
said as he walked into the room.  He thought back to the moment he had
discovered that Spock had left for Starfleet Academy without his
permission.  It had left himself with a sense of betrayal.  If Spock
truly felt he had received so little loyalty from them before that,
then his ability to leave without a word seemed more explainable.

Sarek continued, "We were apparently amiss in not treating your
complaints about Starn with sufficient seriousness. Especially if you
were in danger."  Sarek thought back to the time at five years old
that Spock had inexplicably ran off from a class trip into the dead
zone of the desert during lematra season. He had eventually made his
own way back, substantially cut and bruised and with a broken collar
bone, fearful and with no coherent explanation.

Spock nodded mutely. 

That was it, Kirk thought. We were amiss. He hoped it was enough for
Spock.

"We will leave you alone, Captain," Spock said. He crossed his arms and
headed for the door.

Kirk met Sarek's gaze for just an instant before turning back to the
window.  He heard the door click shut and released the breath he had
been holding. 

Out the window the sand sheered the ground in endless flows like
sideways waterfalls, dust from which obscured the estate wall. He felt
both relief and emptiness. Try as he might he could only conjure the
vaguest memories of his father overlayed by memories of imaginary
conversations he had held with him for years later. He let it go. His
ship, his officers and friends were the only reality that mattered now
and right now he was locking himself away from the two most important
ones.

Kirk left the room, closing the door softly behind him.