After the Rescue

By Karmen Ghia

Part V

WHERE AND HOW EVENTS PROGRESSED TO THEIR CONCLUSION

"Welcome home, Mr. Talljet." The customs officer at the Port of Vulcan, having scanned Maja's wrist and thoroughly searched his meager luggage twice, waved him through.

"Oh," Maja said vaguely. "Thank you." 'Home,' he thought ruefully. 'Home, whatever is that?'

He went directly to the prison to see Hobie. Ling had gone directly to his office to see about some sort of currency emergency in the Sovla system. Finance was an occult science to Maja, so he went off to convey both their greetings their eldest brother.

"How'd it go?" Maja asked, referring to the arraignment.

"Oddly," Hobie grinned. "Jir and I aren't in the courtroom. The Court's afraid we will use our souped-up telepathic abilities to derail the prosecution, influence the judges and generally lower the tone of the judicial proceedings. So. We're holographed in from a room in the prison and the courtroom is holographed in to us." He paused to let Maja's chuckle die away. "Storen and Smig are actually in the courtroom. Just in case somebody needs be handed a whatnot or something."

"Same Mig, or rather Smig, was Jir's secretary and sometimes understudy in his company? I didn't know he was a legal type."

"Apparently he's a little legal predator. Graduated at the top of his Legal Institute class and decided he could do no worse in life than sit at Jir's feet."

"How screwy," Maja observed. "There really is something odd, if not frighteningly odd, about these Vulcans with 'SM' for the first two letters in their names."

"Nonsense Maja, you're imagining things." Hobie smiled. "Anyway, they charged me with four counts of piracy..."

"That's all? I thought the Terrans would accuse you of every pirate act since time began."

"They might like to but apparently they only think they can prove these four. Let's see where was I ... oh, yes; four counts of piracy, two counts of murder and three counts of rape. Oh, and I've got three hundred and six outstanding parking tickets that they've rolled into one big failure to appear and resisting arrest charge."

"Whom did you 'allegedly' murder, Nolo?" Maja asked after a moment of contemplation.

"Gatshira on Fobda and Hypz on Meza 6. They say there are witnesses. I don't remember se ..."

"Of course not! Since you didn't do it what is there to remember?" Maja cut him off, horrified that Hobie was not more careful. "And whom do they 'allege' you raped? How ridiculous!"

"Thomas Albany, Jaroslav Tikel and Dmitri Grushinkev."

"Oh dearest god. Are they really going to drag poor Dmitri through that nightmare again?"

"It is the plan, my dear."

"A cruel and wicked one."

"Aye, Noli." Hobie watched Maja's mind wander to Sarek but said nothing.

"D'you need anything here?" Maja asked to bring the interview to a close.

"No, not at the moment. I'll let you know. Strat brought me a lyre to play. Says we'll have to play some duets when I get out."

"Oh? So there is something to look forward to." Maja smiled happily and rose. "Well, I'm off."

"My love to the Sas when you see them." Hobie smiled back.

Maja lowered his eyes. "Umm. I thought I'd just, ah, fall by and see if Sarek was home first, y'know, to explain what happened on Hzabeda and ... how ... that ..." He glanced up into Hobie's amused eyes. "How that I wasn't running away from him, but from the situation," he finished firmly.

"Listen, Maja, about Sarek. You might hear some things that will upset you and ..."

"Maja!" Jir flew in wearing as little as possible and crushed his little brother to his chest. "Too wonderful. When you get home, have a close look at my brats. I hear they are not adjusting to communal life too well."

"They are a bit spoiled, Jir," Maja informed him.

"LA HA! Perhaps I should ask god for my money back!" Jir gave Maja's shoulders a cautionary shake. "Now get out, I've got lots to discuss with Hobie." He steered Maja to the door.

Maja was able to wave and smile before Jir slammed the door in his face.

Jir turned, suddenly all business: "No bail, bro, sorry. Since Maja and Ling pulled in, there are too many of your crews here and everybody is nervous that you'll run for it."

"I'm crushed by the Federation's lack of confidence in me."

"Aye, me too. The good but expected news is that FMOJ ..."

"The what?"

"The Federation Ministry of Justice has dropped their ridiculous request for the death penalty if you are convicted."

"Was that ever serious?"

"I think it was a politically correct maneuver on Terra to ask for it. Smoothes down the xenophobes that think you're responsible for everything that's gone wrong everywhere for the past twenty years." Jir opened his battered briefcase and rooted around in it. "So now they've asked for it and the spoil-sport Vulcans have refused it. And on very solid constitutional grounds I might add - really a lovely and irrefutable argument T'Pnov presented, I was all jealous - and those what don't like the decision can blame them awful Vulcans and everybody is happy happy happy."

"But no bail."

"No. I'll keep trying."

"Jir, does Maja know what defense you're planning?"

"I haven't told him but I'm sure he'll hear about it eventually."

"Will you please tell him."

"No time! I'm all over your case like a cheap suit. I've got complete confidence in myself here. Possibly complete confidence squared."

"Oh, yeah? When do you shave your head?"

"Oh, a week or so! Unless I can convince the court that since I'm being holoed in and not actually IN the court but I really doubt they'll buy it. Who cares? Fuck my hair. Anyway. We start the trial in fifteen days. I objected to a longer continuance on the grounds that you were denied bail and the Judges caved in like rotten fruit."

"They what?"

"They denied the longer continuance."

"Ah. Have you been to see the Sas and the children?"

"No."

"JIR."

"Hobie." Jir clenched his fists but his voice was calmly passionate. "When this is over, I'll have, we'll have the rest of our lives to play with the babies and split infinitives with the Sas. This trial is all I'm willing to think about right now and that's just how it is."

Hobie backed off. He'd never seen Jir in super legal mode and hot on the trail of victory. He found the intensity a little hard to take. He then remembered that his future was on the line and decided it was a good thing Jir was on his side.

"All right," Hobie said, quietly. "How do my chances look?"

"They look marvelous, darling, simply marvelous!" And Jir proceeded to tell him in detail.

* * *

"We don't have a case." Sarfati said, pacing in the borrowed offices in the Star Fleet mission in Shirkar. "Or at least, not much of one. And Jir knows that, that's why we're in court in two weeks."

Lapham and Charbon exchanged unhappy glances. It was true they had a rotten case and no time to build a better one.

So far they had heard from their three rape victims that they, in fact, did not consider themselves raped. All three said their experience with Hobie Talljet was a beautiful and treasured memory.

"How did Star Fleet misunderstand that?" Lapham had asked his colleagues.

"Knowing Star Fleet, somebody read the reports that Albany, Tikel and Grushinkev had sex with Talljet on Talljet's ship and leapt to the conclusion that it was forced." Charbon found herself beginning to admire Hobie for the loyalty he obviously and easily inspired.

"Grushinkev was under age... let's see he was what? Fifteen?" Lapham was grasping at straws.

"According to his affidavit, all they did was sleep in the same bed."

"Hm."

"We could proceed on the grounds that Hobie altered their memories of the event." Sarfati offered.

Charbon: "We would need witnesses and we have none."

Lapham: "No but we can put them on the stand anyway and see if the court will decide they were coerced."

Charbon: "Dangerous. I think this would insult the court and I don't know how these Vulcan judges would take it."

Sarfati: "We got very sympathetic judges."

Lapham: "Let's do what we can to keep them sweet. I think we can dispense with Albany's testimony - Talljet rescued him and it probably was a spontaneous thing between them."

Sarfati: "Well, I wouldn't say no."

Charbon: (Laughing)

Lapham: "Nick, let's stay focused. Please."

Sarfati: "All right, all right. So we go with Tikel and Grushinkev and drop down to two counts of rape. What about our murder witnesses?"

Charbon: "For Gatshira, we have two prisoners from the Osta prison being brought in: DveKrit and Lii. They claim they saw Hobie break Gatshira's neck on Fobda, in the Miska system."

Lapham: "What are they in for?"

Charbon: "DveKrit for smuggling and drug trafficking and Lii for murder and racketeering. Apparently they knew Hobie early in their careers."

Lapham: (Nodding.)

Charbon: "For Hypz, we have one witness, Ibri Adniz, willing to trade her testimony for immunity in the matter of the Meza 6 riots. She says she saw Hobie blast Hypz on Meza 6, also in Miska system."

Lapham: "Immunity for what?"

Charbon: "As you know, Hypz was the dictator of Meza 6. His murder, or assassination if you will, set off the riots, which Ibri Adniz might or might not have choreographed for her own benefit. You will recall, she had complete control of the system for several months afterwards, before Star Fleet was able to restore order and bring those planets into the Federation. She pretty much looted as much as she could before we ran her off."

Sarfati: "What wonderful witnesses, Lise."

Charbon: "They are very convincing to listen to."

Sarfati: "I bet they are."

Lapham: "The downside here is that Sarek of Vulcan negotiated the final treaty with the Miska system for the Federation. It's given the Federation an unbeatable position in that quadrant. The Klingons are still livid. Jir intends to argue that Hobie did not kill either of them and was only there at the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry's request which is, by default, at the Federation's request."

Charbon: "However, the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry would never send an operative to assassinate anyone. They simply don't operate that way."

Lapham: "As far as we know. Jir will try to prove that Hobie didn't do it, not that he did it on orders from the VIM."

Sarfati: "We have a better case for the four piracy counts. We can place Talljet in or around each incident and we have witnesses and lots of visual evidence. I'll take them in order:

"1. Talljet boarded and took the cargo, Mezian ore, off a transport ship in orbit around Meza 6 during the riots there.

"2. Talljet attacked, boarded and looted an Ithintian private freighter carrying dilithium crystals en route to Yksta 8.

"3. Talljet laid siege to the port of Griza on Frinta and stole the contents of several warehouses there. No records of what he took survive the attack because he leveled the port when he was done. And,

"4. Talljet engaged in a prolonged skirmish with the USS Praga en route to Meza 6 to quell the unrest there. The captain, Captain Nesi, has visual evidence that it was Talljet's ship. I believe Talljet was stalling so he could finish up some business in that system before moving on."

Lapham: "And all four incidents took place in the Miska system."

Charbon and Sarfati nodded at him.

"We have good witnesses and physical evidence," Sarfati said. "All we need is for the judges to agree that Talljet was acting on his own initiative."

"We need the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry to deny that he was an agent, as well," Lapham said quietly.

"Do you think they will?" Charbon asked.

"I would have bet money on it two weeks ago but they haven't exactly answered either our or Jir's subpoenas," Lapham said quietly.

"How can they not?" Sarfati was scandalized.

"They say they are 'gathering the information'," Lapham told him.

"I hope that doesn't mean destroying it." Charbon was now concerned.

"No, I doubt they'd do that. This is Vulcan after all. But I'm curious as to what they will give us. Some of it they might deem a state secret and then we're all stuck," Lapham said. "I can tell these judges don't like the way this is shaping. It might be easier all the way around simply to toss it out for lack of evidence one way or the other."

"And all the warrants to Talljet would void," Sarfati said. "What a shame."

"Maybe not," Charbon said. "Warrants can always be reissued. Reputations cannot."

"I don't want to see Sarek of Vulcan damaged any more than you do, Lise," Sarfati said defensively. "But this is the first chance we've had to put Talljet away and I'd like to do it."

"Have you something personal against him, Nick?" Lapham asked.

"Only that I've seen the border destabilized again and again by pirates fighting each other over plunder." Sarfati frowned. "It's true, the pirates do open up and develop planets we would not get to for decades but the damage they do is considerable. They loot the natural resources, they take the best and the brightest inhabitants to work for them and have been known to lay waste to their own outposts in wars with other pirates over them. Pirates are rootless marauders and Hobie Talljet is no exception."

"I see," Lapham said. "Well. I have good news for you. We can call Maja Talljet as a witness."

"Good. Then the DNA scan confirms they are not biologically related?" Charbon asked.

"Yes. Maja and Ling are biological siblings. Hobie and Jir are not biologically related to either of them or to each other, for that matter," Lapham told them. "Maja has often been in the vicinity of Hobie and Hobie's activities since they left Vulcan. There was some speculation that Maja might be Hobie but it was dropped so as not to antagonize the Klingons anymore then they already are."

"Why are they in it at all?" Sarfati asked.

"Apparently there was an informal arrangement with Hobie. Hobie opened the planets and the Klingons developed them and held them jointly with Hobie's Tossarian pirates," Lapham said.

"Oh, shocking!" Charbon sang sarcastically.

"And of course the Klingons deny every particle of it," Lapham said. "Vehemently deny it. If we tried to press charges against Maja the Klingons would swear he was in church every second and that we are persecuting one of their most precious religious figures. No one in the Federation wants to take the Empire on over this. It'd be a messy messy suicide."

"Then we go with what we've got." Sarfati nodded at them.

"Yes." Charbon said. "Barring some shocking surprise, I think we're in better shape than we thought."

"I certainly hope so."

* * *

"Welcome, Maja Talljet," Sredia, Sarek's ancient major domo, who'd always like Maja better than Spock, said warmly to the MageCheq.

"Hullo, Sredia." Maja stepped over the threshold. "How's your back?"

"As always." Sredia was not shy about complaining when given the opportunity.

"Ah, well. Let's see." Maja put his palm in the small of the elderly Vulcan's back and sent in a low jet of healing energy. "That might help. They ought not work you so hard, Sredia."

"I work, it is necessary," Sredia intoned as he hung Maja's Klingon Master cloak on a peg in the entry hall. "No one is at home, however, you may wait and have some tea. Lord Sarek is expected within the hour." He turned stiffly to lead Maja into the front room.

Maja followed remembering, how intimidated Spock was by Sredia. Justifiably too, Sredia took every opportunity to intimidate Spock. Spock had once told Maja that Sredia had let up on him after Maja began to visit the house. Thereafter, Maja took every opportunity to butter up the old hellhound. The result was that Maja was one of the old hellhound's favorite beings of all time.

Sredia and Sredia's ancestors had been with House of Surak since time beyond memory. He considered the failure of Sarek's first marriage to a Vulcan princess a tragedy and to be Sarek's fault due to some inadequacy in Sarek. Sredia considered Amanda an upstart and Spock a terrible mistake. He had let them both know this in one way or another. Amanda, when informed there was no way to get rid of him, simply ignored him but Spock was less well armored. Sredia was pleased to see Maja turn up and hoped that Sarek would install him as his consort because Maja was a master Sredia would enjoy serving.

Maja looked around the room. It was the same: stone floors and furniture (it was a mystery to Maja why the nouveaux families felt it necessary to sit on such torturous furniture; perhaps it was connected to the cult of logic or something), bare walls but lots of windows. He looked out at the late afternoon sun slanting through the garden. It was a spare and elegant garden he only partly appreciated. He preferred more ornate and varied vegetation but Sarek seemed to like it the way it was. Or perhaps Sarek was just being diplomatic because it was Amanda's garden. Of course, this garden looked like Sarek's rather severe but elegant taste. But, then again ...

'You're nervous, aren't you MajaYaja?' the MageCheq thought ruefully. 'Oh, well, so the worst is he throws you out and you land on your head. Life would go on, eventually, somehow. Right?'

"How is Jir? No one has seen him since he and Hobie arrived." Sredia tottered in with the tea tray, breaking into Maja's meditation.

"Oh, seems fine." Maja rushed over to take it from him. He slopped some tea into two cups and handed one to Sredia. Since the Vulcan had never sat in this room in his life they both remained standing while drinking. "I only saw a flash of him at the prison when I visited Hobie. He's on level ten; all revved up about the trial. You know, he hasn't even seen his children since he's been back."

"Ah, that's interesting." Sredia sipped some tea and decided he'd done his usual excellent job mashing it. "The school age JetCheqs and Communists are all at your old schools."

"No! Really?" Maja exclaimed. "'JetCheqs', eh? D'you know what it means?"

"Of course. Those with half Talljet parentage. A very succinct method of identifying them."

"So glad you approve. Wherever d'you hear it?"

"From Strin, do you remember him?"

"Oh, yes, Shirkar Middle School #7. Taught us math and chemistry. Was very nice to me and Ling."

"He and I still have tea now and then. He says he's very impressed by what he's seen of the Talljet, Commune, etc. children. He wonders why they speak such beautiful Standard and nearly perfect Vulcan."

"Well, I don't know about Jir's children, he always kept them with him. But the Commune found some Standard speaking tutors because we Masters thought it was a good language for us to know."

"Prescient."

"Indeed. And the Vulcan, I suppose Amanda got them up to speed when it was decided to come here. It's damn close to Rom so she probably only had to tweak everybody's vocabulary and pronunciation a bit." Maja sipped some tea. "You know, Sredia, I haven't seen the Commune in months."

"And yet your first stop is here, Maja." Sarek said from the doorway. "I am honored."

"Well, of course," Maja said quietly. "Where else would I go?" He hardly noticed Sredia taking the cup out of his hand and withdrawing.

Sarek closed the distance between them and caught Maja up in his arms. Or so it seemed to him. To Maja it seemed that he flung himself into Sarek's arms, which closed around him. Either had the same result and they simply stood embraced for some time.

"My Maja," Sarek murmured into his Maja's hair. "Are you well?" He leaned back to look at him.

"Yes; now I am." Maja looked up. "You? You've not had anymore health problems? I don't feel any." Maja laid his head back on Sarek's chest.

"Only your lack, Maja."

"Oh! What a nice thing to say." Maja bumped his forehead against the Vulcan's chest. "I'm so glad I came here first. Can I sleep here?"

"Of course. I would not allow you to leave before morning." Sarek tightened his arms. "Perhaps you should let the Sas know you are here."

"Ummm." Maja frowned at him. "I'd like to enjoy a peaceful evening with you, Sarek. If I talk to the Sas it might ruin my good mood. I know, let's send Sredia in a taxi to tell them where I am. I'll write a note for them. They'll invite him to dinner and everybody can get caught up on 'news'. How's that?"

"It sounds like an excellent plan. There are writing materials in my office, go. I'll call Sredia and a taxi."

Maja stepped into Sarek's severely elegant office and sat at the huge desk to compose his note.

"But what will you do for dinner?" Sredia, in his cloak, was asking as he came in.

"We will manage, Sredia," Sarek assured him.

"Here, Sredia, please give the Sas this note for me." Maja asked politely. "You may read it of course."

Sredia opened it on the spot: "Maja, this is not the proper declension of this noun and I would use a more formal verb here. Also break this sentence into two or you'll have the Sas here in an instant to correct your grammar." He handed the note to Sarek, who made a few more suggestions. Maja stomped back into the office, rewrote it and stomped back.

"Thank you," Maja said politely.

"You are welcome, Maja." Sredia moved to the door.

"Make them give you some dinner." Maja waved at the taxi pulling up.

"I'm sure they will. Good evening." Sredia nodded. He tottered to the taxi, climbed in and was gone.

"More tea, Maja?" Sarek asked.

"Yes, please. Perhaps we could go sit in bed and drink our tea," Maja asked innocently.

"An excellent idea." Sarek led the way to the bedroom he'd previously shared with Amanda.

Maja kicked off his boots and sat cross-legged on the bed: "Never been in this part of the house before."

Sarek kicked off his boots and sat next to him: "No reason why you should have been."

"True." Maja curled into Sarek's arm and they sipped their tea for awhile.

"Listen, Sarek," Maja began abruptly. "I wanted to tell you about what happened on Hzabeda: I wasn't running away from you but from the situation."

"I suspected that might be the case."

"I'm glad you suspected that. For all the good it did. Running away, I mean. Everything still went straight to hell."

"Maja, you could not have known that the Yhets were going to try to create a combined empire."

"Oh, that. I'm not talking about that. I wish we'd thought of that."

"I don't. It might have worked with you Talljets behind it."

Maja chuckled serenely. He leaned over a pressed a kiss to Sarek's lips: "Flatterer," he murmured, moving to Sarek's neck.

"It is as you say, Maja." Sarek slid his hands to Maja's hips and began to pull up his cassock. "How does this come off?"

"Very simply." Maja undid the fastenings at the waist and neck and pulled it over his head. Naked, he reached for Sarek's robe and began to pull at closures.

Sarek removed his hands and stood. "I'll do it, thank you."

"Hurry up." Maja growled, slipping under the covers where Sarek soon joined him.

For awhile they just held each other. Maja could feel Sarek's intensity; in another being it might be called urgency but Sarek held himself too much in check. Realizing that Sarek was waiting for him to set the pace, Maja rolled on top of him and caressed their erections together.

'I wonder how this will be without the link,' Maja belatedly thought.

Sarek lifted his hand to initiate a meld. Maja stopped him.

"We can't meld, Sarek."

"Why not?" The Vulcan's cock wilted slightly.

"I'll tell you later." Maja bent and kissed a trail down Sarek's powerful furry chest and rubbed his cheeks over the Vulcan's erection. He slowly licked up the sides before engulfing the head. Wrapping his hand around the root, Maja tightened his grip in small pulses. With the other hand, he stroked Sarek's flanks. He let his mouth descend, impressed that Sarek was allowing him to go on so long. Usually the Vulcan was impatient with such frivolous activities.

Sarek, although enjoying Maja's mouth on him, was ready for deeper union. He reached down and took hold of Maja's heavy braid - something Maja never wore on Imk or Gyvrre - and tugged Maja up his chest. Undoing the braid, Sarek kissed the half Mage deeply. He rolled Maja onto his back.

"I want to be on top!"

"No."

Sarek rolled him forward and centered his cock.

"Hey!"

Sarek covered Maja's mouth with his own to cut off whatever commentary the half Mage had to offer as he eased into him. Sarek lifted his mouth once he hit bottom.

"You may be on top next time."

"However you want, Sarek," Maja panted. "Just fuck me now."

Sarek almost smiled in his mind and began to move slowly and gently. Maja eased up to meet each thrust as they grew longer and harder. So hungry for each other, neither held back, and after a few more convulsive thrusts Maja cried out and thrashed against his lover. Sarek plunged in twice more and clamped Maja in his arms and buried his face in the half Mage's neck as he came.

They lay dazed and spent for a few moments. Sarek lifted his head and pressed a long kiss onto Maja's lips.

"Why wouldn't you let me meld?" Sarek asked.

"Well, two reasons: I'm linked to my brothers and you would have had all four of us in bed if you'd melded with me because I'm too fatigued to shield from them right now. Also, there are some recent memories from Klingon you needn't see."

"Were you tortured?" Sarek asked looking for marks.

"Yes, but the Vulcan healing trance is a wonderful thing, is it not?" Maja ran his hands over the Vulcan's broad shoulders. "Was it so terrible without the meld?"

"No, not at all." Sarek decided he'd get Maja to talk about the events on Klingon homeworld another time.

"Well, that's good." Maja smiled at him.

"Would you like to take a bath, Maja?" Sarek asked in a neutral voice.

"I SHOULD LOVE TO!"

* * *

"Just when I thought I'd have you all to myself for a while..." Kirk eyed McCoy over a glass of wine in the doctor's quarters. "We're ordered to deliver Lieutenant Eason to Vulcan for the trial."

"Had you known, you could have sent her off with Spock the other day." McCoy said coolly to cover his elation that they were going to Vulcan. He'd always wanted to see Spock's homeworld under less stressful conditions than his first and thus far, only visit.

"I think it's a little more than that, Bones. I think Star Fleet got nervous when Maja and Ling arrived at the head of eighty pirate warships and crews. We're going to be there just in case they cut up rough."

"Did Jessup say why they were allowed to dry dock and debark?"

"They were ordered to dry dock," Kirk informed him. "The Vulcans didn't want that much fire power in orbit so they cordoned off part of the desert outside Shirkar for them to dock in. I'm looking forward to that; pirate ships as far as the eye can see."

"And the crews?"

"Are mostly billeted in and around their ships. Apparently everybody on those ships is a Federation citizen in good standing."

"How's that?"

"When the Talljet planets became Federation members, the Federation inherited their residents, who happen to be Hobie's crews, shipbuilders and their families." Kirk paused to enjoy the doctor's laughter. "And, this is the good part, Jessup wants a look at Hobie's ships so bad he can taste it. He wants our crew, particularly engineering, to mix and mingle with the pirates as much as possible to find out as much as possible."

"I don't see Scotty as a Mata Hari."

"Nor I and I pointed this out to the admiral but he was unimpressed." Kirk sipped some more wine. "Jessup is on his way to Vulcan as we speak."

"Is he called to the trial?"

"No, but evidently Shirkar is the place to be right now. Wolfe and her flagship are there. Grace Blyton is on her way. Commodore Yakolev will arrive soon." Kirk nudged McCoy's knee with his own.

"Why is Theresa Eason being called?" McCoy moved his knee.

"She was the navigator on the Praga when they chased Hobie and his ships all over the Miska system." Kirk hooked his foot under the doctor's calf.

"I bet she's got some tales to tell." McCoy failed to disentangle his leg from Kirk's. "Maybe we should go talk to her?"

"Later." Kirk rose and pulled the doctor to his feet and into his arms. "Tomorrow; it's late, I need you." He pressed a gentle kiss onto the doctor's lips.

"Do you?" McCoy said, coming up for air. "I've always thought you were the self-sufficient type."

"I am, except where you're concerned." Kirk guided McCoy to the bed and swiftly undressed them both. "Then I'm very very needy."

McCoy could not but smile at that. He put his arms around his lover's neck and squirmed against Kirk's erection on his belly. He kissed a trail down to Kirk's right nipple and closed his lips over it, hard. Kirk ran his fingers through the doctor's warm brown hair. McCoy moved to the left nipple and nuzzled it as well before moving lower to Kirk's impressively erect cock. Relaxed and sighing with pleasure, McCoy smoothed his lips over the velvety head, slipping his tongue along the curves and hollows. He did everything he had learned Kirk loved to have done. He glanced at Kirk, languidly watching him through half closed eyes and bent to his pleasant task again.

McCoy wrapped his lips around the head and dragged his tongue along the underside. He relaxed his jaw and moved as far down as he comfortably could. He let his lips and tongue explore a bit before moving back up to the head and down again and back up. He established a gentle rhythm on Kirk's cock, enjoying its texture and taste, feeling Kirk's enjoyment.

Kirk urged McCoy up to his chest. He bent down to lick his own taste off McCoy's lips and roll on top of him, spreading McCoy's legs on either side of his hips and urging them up. He explored the doctor's mouth as he reached for the lubricant in the bedside table.

McCoy relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy the leisurely kiss. It was nice not to feel rushed.

Kirk knelt between McCoy's legs, pulling the doctor's hips onto his thighs, he teased McCoy's cock to hardness. Kirk gently slipped a well oiled finger into the doctor, up to the first joint. McCoy started at the contact, then shivered with pleasure. Kirk's finger progressed slowly deeper and McCoy was focused on the erotic finesse of Kirk's touch. A second finger slipped in and McCoy relaxed even further for Kirk.

Kirk leaned down and kissed him sweetly, arranging McCoy's legs over his shoulders, rolling him forward. Kirk centered his cock against McCoy's tight ring and held there, waiting for McCoy to surrender. When he felt McCoy relax infinitesimally more, he pressed into his lover's body.

McCoy rolled his head in pleasure at being filled by Kirk. He wrapped his arms around Kirk's neck when his lover hit bottom and waited patiently as Kirk established his fucking pace. With each thrust and retreat the head of Kirk's penis stroked McCoy's prostate. McCoy could feel his climax nearing and tried to forestall it by mentally reciting chemical compounds. Kirk, seeing the doctor's attention wander, upped his tempo a little and bent to take McCoy's left nipple gently between his teeth. McCoy clung to him: "Jim, I'm going to cum if you don't slow down."

Kirk cooled his pace, still moving inside McCoy, allowing him to edge back from his climax. He adjusted his angle to take some pressure off McCoy's prostate. Kirk slid all the way in, bent to McCoy's mouth and kissed him gently, coaxing his mouth open and slipping his tongue between McCoy's teeth.

Seeing McCoy and he were now on the same page, Kirk began his long, slow strokes again. He urged McCoy into the same rhythm and they stroked each other higher and closer.

McCoy had just time to cry out before his orgasm swept from his toes to the top of his head, clenching his ass around Kirk. Cum splashed between them. Kirk claimed his mouth again.

McCoy shuddered, moaning against Kirk's tongue, his cock pressed between their bellies, slippery with his cum. And still Kirk was fucking him with long, slow, powerful strokes.

Kirk was moving, harder, faster, deeper; head thrown back, eyes closed, intent on his own climax. Kirk let his head fall forward, eyes closed, panting. His thrusts became erratic and McCoy simply held on. Kirk flung himself against McCoy, once, twice, threw his head back and came and came and came with a choked cry. He collapsed into McCoy's arms and lay panting on the doctor's chest.

They lay like this, exhausted but still tingling with pleasure, until the doctor began to feel oppressed by Kirk's weight and urged the captain off him. Kirk snapped out of his post-coital trance and pulled McCoy even closer. He rolled onto his back and settled McCoy on his chest, caressing as much of him as he could easily reach.

Realizing he was parched, Kirk rose from the bed and walked over to the table. He refilled their wine glasses and rejoined his supine lover.

"Thanks." McCoy said, accepting his glass. The wine tasted especially good after sex.

"You are very welcome."

* * *

Maja had slept on after Sarek left that morning and was given a thumping good breakfast by Sredia when he finally got up. They sat in the kitchen together as Maja ate his way through a mountain of food. Sredia had brought back Maja's note with further corrections from the Sas and Maja glanced over it as he ate.

"Now you know why I dread going there." Maja told him around his toast.

"Written Vulcan is very difficult. I believe the Sas simply wish you to be as proficient as you were before you left." Sredia had had a delightful dinner with the Sas and hoped to defend his hosts and smooth down the MageCheq at the same time. "Prince Strig was at dinner."

"And who is he?"

"One of the clan T'Pira."

Maja cast his mind back for a moment: "Really? He must have told his mother he was going to the library because T'Pira hates the Sas."

"Princess T'Pira is a noble Vulcan lady, I doubt she hates anyone."

"Huh. What's he doing at the Sas?"

"He seemed very interested in his conversation with your nephew, Polmira."

"Oh? Is he Sribit's son?"

"Prince Sribit is his uncle. Strig is Sbat's youngest son. I believe they met at the Preparatory Institute."

"Where else? I can't imagine Polmira at any of those mind-crushingly boring teas the Lady T'Peja used to give."

"Nor I, Maja, nor I."

"Did you see any of my brats?"

"Yes, all three. Tien showed me the repairs on the house, it's coming along nicely."

"Really? That's a good project for the Commune. Keep them out of trouble."

"I met Farro, he showed me a sculpture design he and his brothers made that they are quite proud of."

"What didja think?"

"Too much movement."

"He likes things that move, always has. And Hraja?"

"He was working on a ladder so he only waved at me. He seems like a nice young man."

"They're all nice, Sredia. I'm very proud of them, really. I suppose I should tell them someday."

"I hope you will not wait too long."

"I won't. I'll tell them tonight, in fact." Maja drank some tea. "Did you see Lady Amanda?"

"I was told she and Prince Khat were at the Lady T'Preva's reception."

"Amanda's brave to take him there."

"I understand Lady Amanda is quite brave where Prince Khat is concerned."

"Aye," Maja agreed dryly. "Since when is he Prince Khat instead of Master Khat?"

"It is how he was presented to me by SaCriz."

"I wonder if SaCriz isn't overdoing it. I'm trying to forget 'Master Khat's' royal stint, I hope everyone else will too."

"Would you prefer that I call him Master Khat?"

"Yes, please. And does the number fifteen bus still run by the corner and do you have a token?"

Maja finished his breakfast, thanked Sredia for everything and went off to catch his bus.

"SaMaja!" An old woman on the bus hailed him.

"Oh, hello T’Prizi. How are you?" Maja asked, wondering how this fossil could still be alive.

"Well, thank you, SaMaja. I was just talking about you and your brothers with my grandson..."

Thankfully, T'Prizi got off the bus at the shops and Maja discreetly waited one more stop to get off himself. Being polite to T'Prizi, who could talk the flesh off your bones, he'd overshot his stop by several blocks. He was in a shopping area so it would be a pleasant if roundabout walk to the Sas. He noticed the old art store he where used to buy his paints and paper was still in business and stepped inside.

"Live long and prosper, SaMaja." Svik greeted him as if he'd just seen him yesterday.

"Peace and long life, Svik," Maja returned pleasantly. "Oh, you framed them and hung them up." Maja looked up at three of his early drawings hanging behind the counter.

"I sold one when I needed some money."

"You can't have gotten much for it." Maja observed.

"I would not have parted with it had I not gotten quite a lot, SaMaja. They are precious to me."

"Oh. Well, I'll try to make some more. You were very kind to take them in trade when I had no money for art supplies." Maja smiled with his eyes, which is what the Vulcans preferred (there was something disconcerting about baring the teeth and contorting cheeks in Shirkar - such actions were to be avoided). "By the way, where are the other two?"

"In my sitting room. Perhaps you will join me there for some tea?"

"Yes. Thank you." Maja glanced at the clock and decided he had plenty of time to get to the Sas and proceeded to have a very pleasant visit with Svik.

After lunch, Maja emerged from the art store and headed in the direction of the Sas' mansion. He only ran into three or four more acquaintances so he arrived as the light took on a pinkish glow and made everything look soft and inviting. Even the Sa mansion looked new and hopeful.

He pushed open the back gate and stared around at the huge and tidy garden. Maja had never seen it cleaned up; it seemed to go on forever. He stood staring at it for a while, suddenly very nervous about seeing these old men. He crept around the side of the house and looked in the kitchen window.

There was no one in the kitchen. He heaved a sigh of relief and turned back to his contemplation of the garden. He noticed someone had planted a vegetable patch. Maja skulked over to look at it, noticing it was planted with the same things he and his brothers always planted. Except this one was expertly terraced and irrigated so the yield would be at least ten times what the Talljets used to get.

'I see the hand of Master Pzchaz and the Farro in this,' Maja thought, suddenly feeling useless to the Commune and the universe in general. 'I've been wasting my time in spaceships while they've been creating beauty everywhere.' He heard an upper storey window open behind him and turned.

"Is that you, Maja? What are you doing standing in the garden?" SiJidi asked kindly.

"I was just looking at it." Maja was defensive but he was also noticing how pretty the house was free of vines and creepers. How huge, too.

Another window flew open: "Maja? At last! What a disgraceful note you sent here last night. Your teachers will be ashamed," SoLri, one of his Vulcan teachers, scolded.

"Not if they don't find out." More defensive.

"Master Ghet!" Farro flung open another window, Hraja waved from behind him.

"Hullo, lads. Farro, what ever are you wearing?"

"It's Jir's old school uniform, yours was too small. Bot's wearing it."

"Greetings, Maja!" SaCriz cried from a tiny balcony next to Farro's window.

"SaCriz! Why are the children wearing hand me downs?" Really defensive.

"There's lots of wear in them yet, Maja," SerNera observed serenely from another window.

Maja turned back to Farro: "You do that garden?" He gestured over his shoulder.

"We all did it, Master," Hraja informed him.

"How did you know what to plant?"

"They asked us: we told them, Maja," SoLri said. "We remember most of your Talljet ways."

"Ah." Maja looked back at Farro, who was smirking at SoLri, and wondered just what tales the old men had told the Commune. "Is everyone here?" Maja asked vaguely and immediately regretted it.

"What do you mean, 'everyone', Maja?" SaCriz snapped irritated that Maja was still as vague as always.

"I mean the Commune and the whores and the JetCheqs..."

"That word is brilliant," SiJidi informed him.

"I'm so glad you like it." Maja turned back to Farro and Hraja. "Well?"

"Yes, Master," Hraja said. "The whole Commune and all the cousins are here and some people I don't really know. Oh, yes, and the little blind boy, Laninin."

"And WE want to talk to YOU about that, Maja," SoLri said seriously.

"Why ME? He's NOT mine."

"You're the first of your brothers to show his face here, Maja," SerNera told him.

"Oh, excellent. I could leave and come back."

"Too late, half Mage, SaBrzia wants to see you." Spaga held the kitchen door open.

Maja heaved a sigh and stomped inside. He felt like a twelve year old, he knew this would happen. Ling and Jir claimed it happened to them, why should he be spared? He kicked off his boots and stomped across the living room to drop them on the rack by Svurek and his door, which seemed to be under construction.

"Hullo, Svurek," Maja said. "What goes on with your door?"

"Your Commune is repairing it."

"Are they? How long since anyone came or went through it?"

"Oh, seventy years or so," Svurek mused, knowing full well it was 71.65 years but preferring to be stylishly vague.

"Well, I hope you remember how to let them in and out." Maja smiled at him; he liked Svurek.

"I'm sure I do, half Mage." Svurek said mildly; he was fond of Maja in an off hand way.

"Come, Maja, stop stalling," Spaga said and led him up the now tidy staircase and down a hall. He stopped and knocked on a door before entering.

SaBrzia was old before Maja was born and now he was really old. He had lost his vision slowly and refused to do anything about it. He had pupils to read to him, what else did he need? Besides, he'd seen too much silliness in the world. Appearances caused all the trouble in life, better not to see them. While Maja lived in the house, SaBrzia spent his days behind a huge desk in the office next to his bedroom. It was at this desk that he had formulated the linguistic theories that made him famous. He was not the most patient being and had a temper when roused. Of the Talljets, Jir was his favorite and then Maja but he was still gruff with both of them. Hobie and Ling he ignored and was ignored by them in turn.

Maja stepped up to the side of the bed and looked down at the shrunken figure there. He glanced back at Spaga whose face was unhelpfully blank.

"What's the commotion, boy? Can't you come into the house and pay your respects decently?" SaBrzia croaked, waving Spaga out of the room.

"Well." Maja unhooked the clasp of his Master's cloak. "Obviously not." He tossed it on a chair. "You know what a savage I am." He shook the energy out of his hands. "I really haven't changed much." He slipped into the bed and curled around the weakened old man, sending a gentle but steady healing wave into him.

At first SaBrzia could only frown in indignation at this outrageous behavior but very soon, he wheezed his protest: "Maja, get out of this bed."

Maja ignored him. Some time went by.

"MAJA, get out of this bed."

Maja closed his eyes. Some more time went by.

"MAJA, GET OUT OF THIS BED."

Maja, feeling drained, dozed off. Even more time went by.

"MAJA, GET OUT OF THIS BED!" SaBrzia roared rising from the bed and if tone could maim, Maja'd be leaving in a basket.

"What's all the noise?" Spaga asked, reentering. He rushed forward to support his teacher to a chair and wrap a robe around him. SiJidi and SaCriz also came in, attracted by the commotion.

"I'm going to my office," SaBrzia growled, rising again. "I want lunch. I want him out of my bed before dinner." He pointed at the bed where Maja lay curled on his side, looking up at him. SaBrzia stormed out of the room, Spaga and SaCriz in his wake.

SiJidi sat down on the side of the bed and pinched Maja's pale cheek.

"Welcome home, half Mage."

* * *

"So," Maja said in Patois as he eyed Qhoshi over a cup of Relan tea in the Sa mansion later that evening. "The old Vulcans are worried about Laninin."

"They worry over nothing." Qhoshi was frosty. She'd been battered and hounded by SaCriz, SiJidi and SiJidi's cousin, SiRond, since Laninin's arrival in the Sa mansion. The Commune, on the other hand, simply absorbed him and Ling's staff into their midst and all was well. Not so for the Vulcans. It was hard to tell Laninin was blind because he learned to feel his way around so quickly but once they had spotted it they were all over Qhoshi to have him examined by a healer. This was not wearing the madam down, it was merely turning her to stone.

"They simply wish to see if his blindness can be cured, Qhoshi. That's all." Maja knew how grating the Sas could be when they were after something and he felt sorry for her.

"Laninin is none of their business." Cold as ice.

"True." Maja sipped some tea to warm up. He didn't know Qhoshi very well and Laninin hardly at all. The little boy he'd seen playing in the Commune had seemed happy and healthy enough. The older children and the Deltan twins, Ro and Ko, had made a safe environment for him and he was happy in it. This was, according to Qhoshi, very similar to his life in Ling's house on Dhrgestera.

"True, Qhoshi, but why have you never had him examined?" Maja asked mildly.

"That, Master Ghet, is none of your business." Qhoshi rose to close the interview.

Maja did not look up. "I suppose I could ask Ling, but it seems a shame to distract him from the currency emergency in the Sovla system." He looked up at her. "So you might as well sit down and work this out before you really annoy me, whore-girl." Maja could also be cold as ice.

Qhoshi sat and serenely wove her long fingers together to cover her discomfort. She'd never heard that tone from Maja but she could imagine how effective it was with the Klingons. She correctly read the meta-message to be 'cooperate with me or I throw you out on your empath whore ass and do as I please.'

"Thank you. Now," Maja said calmly, cleared his throat. "Please tell me why you never had Laninin's eyes examined."

"It did not occur to me."

"Why not?" Maja wondered why she was being evasive.

"It is not necessary for him to see."

"Why not?" Maja wondered if this was cruelty.

"Because he sees with his mind."

"We all see with our minds, Qhoshi," Maja sighed, thinking on whose son Laninin was and why Hobie had bought him. "Are you worried that physical vision will stunt his prophetic abilities?"

"Yes."

"Laninin is not property nor an animal to be trained. He is a sentient being, placed in your care through god's agency and it is your duty to care for him to the best of your ability, which includes his physical well being." Maja was trying not to lose his temper. If Ling and Hobie looked at every interaction as a business transaction they were going to catch hell from Maja. He couldn't really upbraid Qhoshi too much, she was, after all, merely Ling's employee. "Has Ling forbidden you to have him examined, possibly cured?"

"No. We do not feel there is anything about him to be cured."

"He cannot see, Qhoshi."

"It might be voluntary."

"SaBrzia's blindness is voluntary." Maja lowered his voice, which had risen in anger. "Laninin is a little boy who has never seen in his life."

"Master Ghet," Qhoshi said patiently. "Laninin is half Magidrian, quarter Cmovi and quarter Phol. All are empathic species whose bodies heal themselves automatically. He would not have been born blind if that were not the choice of a highly evolved being."

"You know, Qhoshi, I believe, as you do, that each soul makes choices before birth. However, most souls, once they are in bodies and have had a look around, so to speak, often choose to undo or modify those original choices. This is the free will part of the unknowable mind of god's plan for each and every one of us. So you and I, having this conversation, are part of that plan and it is now our mission as souls on the same path as Laninin to TAKE HIM TO A HEALER AND SEE IF IT'S A PHYSICAL IMPEDIMENT AND NOT JUST MAKE ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT GOD'S WILL!" Maja took a deep breath and composed himself. "And perhaps you are right, perhaps his sightless state is the conscious decision of a highly evolved being. In which case, we can have him fitted with a sensor suit and then he can run and play and go to school with the other children instead of having to be carried around like a basket."

"He runs and plays, Master." Qhoshi couldn't quite keep the hurt out of her tone. "We're not monsters."

"Oh, I know, Qhoshi, Laninin is fine in terrain he knows but now he's in a varied and changing environment and needs to be able to see. And if it is in our power to restore his sight, we would be ..." Maja hesitated over the word 'wicked' "... highly misguided not to do so."

Qhoshi lowered her eyes: "He's a very expensive investment, Master."

"He's a sentient being, Qhoshi." Maja said gently, thinking on the hard things he had to say to Hobie and Ling at the earliest moment. "And, in truth, all children are expensive investments, actually more like high stakes gambling. Laninin might not turn out to be what you hope, but with god's grace he will be what he is meant to be. So, tomorrow we'll make all the arrangements and you'll come with us?"

"Laninin will prefer Ro and Ko's company."

"The Deltans? All right. Couldn't Ling have picked better names for them?"

"They chose those names."

"Oh. By the way, Qhoshi, the Sas want to know what drugs Ro and Ko take to damp down their sexy Deltan pheromones."

"Nothing. They are half Cmovian and have the mental capabilities to direct their body chemistry into other channels. As a result they have stronger immune systems and more complex cykotonic and lymphocytonic circulation than other DelCheqs, which are usually quite fragile."

"Remarkably clever that. How do they know how to do it?"

"I taught them."

* * *

"I don't think she's cruel," Maja said, referring to Qhoshi, as he lay next to Sarek several nights later. "And she turned out to be right. No physical basis for the blindness: Laninin simply chooses not to see."

"Fascinating. Is it a psychological disorder?"

"No, I think not. He is in all other respects a normal five year old boy. It's just that his inner vision is so beautiful, why be distracted from it?"

"I cannot fathom it."

"I can fathom it but I can't imagine being blind. I hope I would have the inner resources to cope and the circumstances to devote myself to prayer and the aural joys of god's creation but I really don't know."

"And you will never have to find out, Maja, blindness can be cured if it is physical and a cure is desired."

"Yesssss. Laninin is very chummy with SaBrzia, who is teaching him Vulcan. We did get Laninin a sensor suit so he won't fall down the stairs or knock over a bronze so I guess that's all I can do for now. He's a nice little boy. I think he likes the bustle of the Commune."

"Will he want to leave it?"

"Probably not; I don't really know. Perhaps we'll all stay together somehow. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it." Maja curled into Sarek's arm. "Thank you for letting me sleep here. Those old men are driving me mad."

"Thank you for sleeping here, Maja, I am enjoying the sex and company very much." Sarek listened to Maja laugh for a moment. "What are the Sas doing to you?"

"They make me speak in grammatically correct complete Vulcan sentences."

"Madness," Sarek commiserated. No one spoke that way in Shirkar, it was considered effete.

"Yes, very. And then when I do escape to go paint T’Paga’s portrait she laughs at my silly language."

"I can not imagine any Vulcan matron laughing at you, Maja, especially T'Paga."

"Well, she teases me."

"Do you really mind?"

"T'Paga's teasing? Heavens no. She's the perfect woman, you know."

"She is quite well thought of in society," Sarek agreed. T'Paga and her husband, Spoda, were invited everywhere and were in turn gracious hosts.

"That's because she's the perfect woman," Maja persisted.

"Yes, my Maja." Sarek stroked the half Mage's shoulder. "How bad is Ling's currency problem? I heard some news that Talljet Inc. was in serious trouble."

"Well, I'm not sure," Maja stated. "After Ling finished screaming at me for upsetting Qhoshi and interfering with Laninin, she told me that the entire financial system in the Sovla system went belly up because one planet started to print baskets of money to keep the army at work defending them from whoever is running amok there at the moment and it destabilized the currency agreements or something and now we are flat broke so stop spending money this instant. What I really think it means is that Ling is having a cash flow crisis and is down to her last nth gillion kaZillion credits and is overreacting. I've heard this flat broke story before and I think it's all a matter of degree."

"She?"

"Oh. Yes. I guess you don't know Ling is pregnant and totally annoyed. Says the timing is bad. What an idiot. No such thing as time."

"And the father is?" Sarek asked.

"Stez, of course!" Maja rolled his eyes. "Really Sarek, we're not all whores and scoundrels..."

"I never implied that, Maja."

"Ha! Well, never mind. It's incredible to me that Ling and Stez are still together. It's about thirty years, can you imagine?"

"Yes, Maja, I can." Sarek thought of Amanda for a moment but pushed it away. "When will the baby be born?"

"About six months; that's usual for us Talljets. Ling's the last of us. I was first, then Hobie, then Jir, now Ling. The JetCheqs are delighted to have more cousins on the way. I am delighted as well," Maja said thoughtfully. "I will be more delighted when the trial is over and I can make plans for the future. We can make plans for the future."

"Yes, since this trial will probably destroy my diplomatic career, I will have lots of free time."

"Then come with me to the Commune."

"Not as long as Amanda lives there, Maja. We have caused her enough suffering."

"I assume she'll stick with MajaKhat and neither he nor Hraja will ever return to the Empire, which is where most of the Commune will go after all this is over; that would include you and me."

"You would be mad to return there."

"Nonsense, I'm St. Gozine, remember."

"I do but the Yhets will have short and vengeful memories of your sainthood."

"Well, perhaps you're right," Maja said vaguely to avoid an argument. "But it's a big galaxy outside of the Empires and Federations. We'll go somewhere and I'll teach drawing and you can get a job haggling or helping to plan robberies or something. We'll survive; even flourish."

"Yes, my Maja," Sarek murmured sleepily and wondered if Maja would still want this future after Hobie's trial.

* * *

Spock had arrived on Vulcan and found himself in a dilemma: Go home and pay his respects to his father, go to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune and pay his respects to his mother, or go find Maja at the Sas and see what happens. Since it was late morning, he decided to call on his father, who would not be home but Sredia would tell him of Spock's visit. Then go to the Sas, visit his mother and make contact with Maja.

All went as planned until Spock arrived at Sa's kitchen door and wished SiRond, who was already older than god's wet nurse, a long life and prosperity.

"Spock." SiRond thought about this concept for a moment. "Spock. I'm not sure you're allowed in here anymore."

"I see." Spock clasped his hands behind his back. "May I know why?"

"Something in the connection between Maja's departure and you that caused SaBrzia to have a negative opinion of you and therefore ban you from the house," SiRond said.

"But Maja has returned," Spock ventured. "Has the ban not been lifted?"

"Well, I doubt it but that's a good argument." Tiny ancient frail SiRond stepped back from the door he was blocking. "Come out of the sun but wait here for me. I'll go present your cause."

"If you see my mother, will you tell her I am in the kitchen?" Spock asked, feeling like a twelve year old.

"Amanda-anas is visiting T'Pau, Spock. Won't be back until dinnertime." SiRond threw this over his shoulder as he tottered across the kitchen and struggled through the swinging door.

Spock looked around him. He considered taking a seat at the big table and decided against it. It would be undignified if he were thrown out, even more so if he had to rise to be thrown out. He stood at parade rest and reviewed the unchanged contents of the antique kitchen. Hearth, grill, sinks, pantry, spices and vegetables drying on a string strung over the high wide windows - it was the same as the last time he had walked Maja home and they had sat in the inglenook by the fire, drinking tea and ....

"SaBrzia says the ban remains." SiRond broke roughly into Spock's reverie. "However, if you're looking for Maja, he's at T'Paga's house. Do you remember how to get there from here, Spock?"

"Yes. Thank you, SiRond."

"Oh, I'm not worried about you, I want you to show Tien how to get there. Maja wants him to pick up some art supplies at Svik's store and I'm afraid he'll get lost."

Tien glided in and drawled in his Rom accented Vulcan that he would not get lost, that he never got lost and if he did get lost, he would find his way back. He frowned and looked wounded by SiRond's lack of confidence, which had zero effect on that Vulcan. "I have the list and the addresses. I don't want a guide. I don't need a guide." He looked at Spock. "Oh, hello again. Are they asking you to steer me around? Well, you needn't trouble yourself. I will be perfectly fine." Tien looked down at the addresses and up at Spock. "Except, I wonder if you can tell me, what does 'fifth blue door after the big tree next to the children's fountain in the second middle shopping area' mean?

Spock looked at SiRond. "Has Svik moved his shop?" he asked, intrigued but slightly distracted by a low ringing in his ears. Vulcan shops never moved unless their premises were destroyed.

"No, no. Only the city built a new shopping area to the east of it when they built the new suburbs. So now it's the 'second middle shopping area' instead of the 'middle shopping area'. Spock, will you please show Tien where to go?"

"I'm sure he can find it on his own." Spock received a brilliant smile from Tien for this show of confidence and solidarity. "However, since T'Paga's house is in that direction, I will just point out the way when we part."

"I will worry..."

"SiRond, I assure you, Tien can take care of himself."

"That's rrrright!" Tien drawled.

"Then I will worry about anyone unfortunate enough to meet him on the way," SiRond drawled, swiveled and tottered out of the kitchen with what was left of his dignity.

"Where are your brothers and Kalzat, Tien?" Spock asked as they walked down the deserted midday streets.

"Farro goes to the Preparatory Institute and Hraja and Kalzat suffer from the heat so they have to work in the house." Tien flipped his braid off his shoulder. "Plenty to do in there, you know, it's a wreck inside. "

"I was last in the Sa mansion before you were born, Tien. They never lived in more than ten percent of it for as long as my father can remember."

"That's true. It must have been a lovely place and will be grand again when we're done restoring it."

"Did you see Maja's studio?"

"Which room?"

"The long one with big windows on the second level. He painted a mural of all his friends on one wall. I am in it. There was a purple couch in it last time I was there."

"I've seen a room like that but no mural." Tien omitted the fact that in this room one of the walls had been whitewashed. "Perhaps I'm confused. You could show me sometime."

"I am forbidden to enter."

"Why?"

"The Sas hold me responsible for Maja leaving Vulcan many years ago."

"Oh."

They walked in silence for a while.

"We part here, Tien." Spock said. "There is your tree and fountain and the shop is in that group of buildings to the left."

"Are there no signs or numbers, Vulcan?"

"Just look in the blue doors and ask for Svik until you find him." Spock turned to go.

"Spock," Tien said. "Listen, about this address for T'Paga. Is this really 'the little house with the big tree in the yard, six from the penultimate corner of the cluster'?

Spock looked down at the paper Tien held and recognized Maja's spiky Vulcan cursive with annotations and grammar corrections from the Sas. He mentally upbraided Maja for sending Tien off into Shirkar with so poor a map. He then realized he'd never known T'Paga's official address, only how to get there, which is what these directions explained if you knew how to read them.

"I do not know T'Paga's house number. Let us go to Svik's shop and I will look it up in his directory and then we can go together." Spock suggested.

"Oh, that's a good idea." Tien assured him.

Tien might have liked to look around a little but Spock took him directly to the dim little shop.

Svik greeted Spock as if he'd just seen him yesterday instead of twenty years ago.

Spock turned to introduce Tien whose eyes were glued to Maja's drawings behind the counter.

"Shall I bring down your parent's drawings for you to examine?" Svik very nicely offered.

"Oh, yes. If it's not too much trouble." Tien was dying to look at these drawings. "Here, I'll do it." He took the step ladder from Svik and had the framed pieces on the counter in a twinkling. He leaned over them as if trying to read something under the crosshatching.

"Do you remember these, Spock?" Svik asked.

"Yes. I remember him making this one of the children's fountain," Spock said softly.

"Can you move a bit, Vulcan? You're in the light," Tien muttered. "Why do they call it the children's fountain?"

"It is where the children of this district play in the hot weather." Spock told him as he stepped back and to the left.

"Did you?" Tien asked distractedly, admiring the rendering of the site, choice and composition of the view. He would go have a look to assess the verity of Master Ghet's draftsmanship.

"No, I lived in a different district. I believe Ling did."

"But not Master Ghet, uncle Jir or Hobie?"

"They were a little too old." Spock said, remembering a late night swim with Maja that had ended quite pleasantly.

"And this?" Tien gestured to the drawing of the big tree.

"I remember him talking about it. He said he wanted to capture the essence of the tree. I did not understand his meaning."

"Do you?" Tien asked Svik brusquely.

"I have looked at that tree everyday for the past one hundred and seventy-two years and yet when I think of the tree, it is this drawing I see in my mind," Svik told him and received a Maja-esque smile for his honesty.

"I must have a look at that tree, indeed." Finding a kindred spirit in Svik, Tien began to relax and enjoy himself. "And this?"

"My shop," Svik said. "Maja often drew or painted pictures of homes or businesses and gave them to the inhabitants as gifts."

"You will see a painting of T'Paga's house when we arrive, if she still has it," Spock prompted.

"Oh, that's right!" Tien looked up at Svik. "I completely forgot what we were about. Here, I'll put these back." He rehung the drawings. "Listen, Svik-anas," he added the Klingon honorific because he felt the Vulcan deserved it. "Can I bring my brothers and cousins to see these? They will be fascinated."

"You JetCheqs are all welcome here, Tien," Svik told him.

"JetCheqs?" Spock inquired.

"Yes, indeed. There are so many half Talljets here in Shirkar, the town's picking up our Talljet slang." Tien smiled up at him.

"Indeed, Tien. Hochofedra." He shrugged awkwardly but Tien was delighted.

"Hochofedra, indeed." Tien shrugged happily. "Svik-anas, please, can I have what's on Master Ghet's list here? I don't know what half of this is."

Svik launched into a long and detailed explanation of his favorite subject: The technical development of Vulcan painting. Maja's request was mainly for paints and paint fixer - a substance of powdered crystals that set the color and kept the pigment from melting in the extreme Vulcan heat.

"You must take care when you handle the fixer because if enough works under your skin it will eventually poison you." Svik cautioned. "And if you don't die from it, you will want to. My aunt had that happen, she was sick for three years and cannot even look at a paintbox now."

"Astonishing! Does she still make art?"

"She switched to ceramics."

"Does she glaze?"

"She uses the natural glazes. Salt, blood, ground up insects, tree sap, crushed grasses, fruit juice ...."

Spock looked at his wrist chrono as Svik wound down through his list.

Unlike Svik, Tien had not missed the VulCheq's impatient gesture.

"Well, I'll certainly bring all the JetCheqs here for a visit," he said, gathering up Maja's parcels and handing a few to Spock. "You are the most fascinating Vulcan I've met thus far, Svik-anas. Adieu."

"I shall look forward to it, Tien. Your total comes to two hundred and sixty-five credits, less Maja's discount of ten percent, that's two hundred and forty-eight point five credits."

"Oh," Tien said thoughtfully. "Money."

Spock handed Svik his credit chip.

"I could simply send Maja a bill," Svik offered.

"It is not necessary, Svik, he will repay me." Spock at least hoped so.

"Thank you, Spock-anas," Tien murmured sotto voce as Svik ran Spock's chip.

Spock nodded gallantly.

The Vulcans made their farewells and Spock and Tien left.

"That was so nice!" Tien enthused. "Can we go by the fountain and the tree?"

Spock allowed him a quick look and then hustled him off in the direction of T'Paga's house.

It was a twenty minute walk through an old and pleasant neighborhood that was old enough to have big trees but too young for the profound decay of the Sa mansion. This had been where the newly independent vassals of the old families had settled when the ancient fiefs were broken up after the Vulcan Civil War. The homes were modest but were surrounded by large lots, which were cultivated for food. Some of them still were cultivated for food but most of what Tien saw were cool shady gardens full of lovely flowers and vines. This cluster of homes had been settled by the vassals that fought for Surak and so was on high ground with good soil and a reliable water source.

The vassals that remained loyal to the Sas, the primary and founding clan of the Shirkar oasis, had settled further east, in the shadow of the Sa mansion. They lived on sandy soil and very little water. They became skilled at divining water or they died out or they moved into the Sa mansion and then died out.

But T'Paga's family had been on the winning side of the Vulcan Civil War, and aside from surviving into the twenty-third century, they hadn't gotten much joy from it.

However, in the less distant past, T'Paga's family had greatly benefited from her and her bondmate's friendship with the Talljets. Previously, they had been minor gentry that had never really reaped the financial benefits of fighting for Surak's cause two thousand years ago. They were gentle scholars, governesses, tutors and small farmers with small prospects. T'Paga and her bondmate, Spoda, had befriended Maja and Ling at middle school and the small publishing house Spoda inherited had flourished from its exclusive rights to Ling's writings and all the business they could handle from Talljet Inc. Rising out of genteel poverty had elevated their social position in Shirkar as well. T'Paga and Spoda were asked everywhere and T'Paga was a gracious and fascinating hostess whose invitations were very much sought after.

Spock knew all this from his mother's frequent informative letters and SaGolia's chatty annual birthday letter to him. He exchanged the occasional note with T'Paga but she was too shy to ever mention her social successes. He was wondering if he would be allowed into her home without an express invitation. He recalled that Sredia had not invited him into his father's house and still stung slightly from being tossed out of the Sa mansion. He had great hopes of T'Paga's hospitality because she was, after all, the perfect woman.

Tien rapped on the half open door and called for Master Ghet. From inside, Maja called for him to come in and be quick, what had kept him and hurry up.

T'Paga was dressed to receive an emperor and Maja was painting her portrait. She stood in her best clothes in front of the open doors leading out to her garden, of which she was justifiably proud. In the future, she would draw more attention to the garden behind her in the portrait than to herself.

"Spock!" T'Paga's eyes widened in as much pleasure as nouveau Vulcans ever show.

"Don't move, T'Paga!" Maja did not turn. "Tien, bring those things here and look sharp."

"Yes, Master." Tien made a face at Spock and did as he was told.

"T'Paga! Hold still!" Maja snapped.

"It's inhospitable not to give my guests a cup of tea, Maja," the Vulcaness informed him but did not break her pose.

"SpockDeVulCheq is First Mate on a starship," Maja returned. "I think he can figure out how to pour himself a cup of tea."

T'Paga arched an eyebrow at Spock. "Help yourself, Spock. I am at Maja's mercy."

"A fascinating place to be, T'Paga." Spock sat and poured himself some tea.

Maja did a bad job suppressing a smile and rolled his eyes at T'Paga. "All right, Vulcan girl, go rest for a moment. I've got to teach my little savage communist a thing or two about Vulcan painting."

Spock rose as T'Paga approached, her hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper, Spock."

"Peace and long life, T'Paga." They sat and T'Paga poured a cup of tea.

"The pigment goes on first," Maja explained to Tien. "Then you carefully mix the crystal into the acrylic gel, one part gel to two parts crystal."

"T'Pring's actions toward you were unfortunate, Spock." T'Paga lunged into the subject. "Unfortunate and unnecessary."

"Keep the crystal powder off of you or you'll get sick when it works into your skin." Maja stepped back to watch Tien work.

"Oh, everyone knows that," Tien drawled.

"Is zat so?" Maja asked. "Then work on these drapes, Master KnowsAll." Maja stood watching him until Tien gave him such a scathing look he went to go sit with T'Paga and Spock. "You'll call me if you need me."

"I always need you, Master." Tien drawled distractedly. "But I'll call you if I need your help."

Maja scowled at his eldest child and turned to take a cup of tea from T'Paga. He looked at the cup for a moment before he stood and set it near Tien. "You look thirsty, child." He turned to Spock. "Did you make him walk here?"

"It's a short distance, Maja," Spock informed him.

"Hochofedra." Maja shrugged and looked closely at Tien, who gave him the 'go away' look again. "I guess you survived." He sat again and accepted another cup of Relan tea. "Thanks, T'Paga. When did you get here, Spock?"

"About two hours ago. Did you know I am not allowed in the Sa Mansion?"

"No. I didn't know. Did they say why?"

"They feel I was responsible for your leaving so abruptly."

Maja stared at him for a moment. "You were."

"It is illogical to hold me responsible for your irrational and impulsive actions," Spock said simply.

Maja flung his cup of tea into the first officer's face and switched into vernacular Standard. "You broke my fucking heart and cared less. It is neither illogical nor irrational that I wanted out of here and never to see this fucking place again."

T'Paga handed Spock a towel. She looked up at Tien, who was very interested in the proceedings.

"May I have some more tea, T'Paga?" Maja asked politely, switching back in Vulcan.

"Of course, Maja." His hostess poured more tea in perfect faith that Maja would not throw it on Spock unless severely provoked. She'd known Maja and Spock since they were all ten years old and actually understood them quite well. Tea throwing was neither shocking or unusual for those two. It was, in fact, a good sign, a sign that Maja had gotten whatever out of his system and could move on to something else.

Sensing the show was over, Tien turned back to his work. The Vulcan paint medium was proving more challenging than he'd anticipated.

"Seen T'Pring, Spock?" Maja asked acidly.

"No and I have no intention of seeking her out."

"I was just telling Spock how disappointed I was in T'Pring's actions at the wedding." T'Paga interjected.

"Disappointed that she tried to kill him or that she failed?" Maja asked pleasantly.

"Maja." T'Paga sighed and gave him a long look.

"Oh, all right," Maja moaned at her. "I'll be nice to Spock even though he does not deserve it."

"And why not?" Spock asked.

"You would not understand." Maja said flatly.

"You might give me a chance, Maja," Spock insisted.

"... I..." Maja floundered.

"Master, will you help me?" Tien turned and stared at Spock.

Maja rose and went to Tien. Spock's fingers tightened around his cup in irritation. He met T'Paga's bland eye and relaxed a little.

Standing next to Tien, Maja stared at the canvas until he felt his inner poise return. He was surprised that seeing Spock enraged him. 'The half breed is so smug. I'd like to take him down a peg,' Maja thought. 'But I guess T'Pring's beaten me to it.' He looked up and found Tien examining him. "What's the problem, little one?" he asked crisply.

"I can't get this tube opened," Tien supplied neatly and handed Maja a tube of paint.

"Here." Maja handed it back, opened, and went to sit with the Vulcans again. 'Round two,' he thought calmly.

"Have you seen T'Pring?" T'Paga asked Maja.

"No, nor has she left a message on the Sas for me. Have you seen her lately?" Maja sipped his lukewarm tea.

"She's mostly withdrawn from Shirkar and lives on her father's estate."

"With Stonn."

"Yes, with Stonn. I've nothing really to say to her after what she did."

"What she did was perfectly Vulcan, T'Paga," Maja said calmly.

"It was perfectly barbaric," the Vulcaness said firmly.

"I find it odd that you would snub T'Pring for this," Maja mused. "After all, you did end up in the same boat at that tea party."

T'Paga's fingers tightened in irritation around her teacup.

"What tea party, Maja?" Spock asked to break up the silence.

"Oh, let's see." Maja collected and sharpened his memories. "You were off world with your parents as usual and Princess T'Pirind was having this huge tea party and dance. Girls with bondmates were invited but T'Pring and T'Paga could not go because Spoda had to work for his father that day and you weren't here. We Talljets talked to SaGolia about it and the issue wasn't really that the girls had to go with their bondmates, but more that they had to be escorted. So Hobie escorted T'Paga and Jir escorted T'Pring and everybody had a good time."

"That does not alter my opinion of T'Pring and her actions, Maja." T'Paga said.

"No? Well, you don't seem to remember how unpleasant it was to be alone when an important event was at hand and Spoda has turned out to be a good husband, at least he's present. Can't you imagine how uncomfortable T'Pring's life would be with Spock in space ninety-nine percent of his time because he prefers it to her? Why should she be married to someone who is only fulfilling an abstract Vulcan duty he is not really fit to fulfill and never wanted to in the first place?"

"That's an interesting but futile speculation, Maja." Spoda had come in half way through Maja's speech and now sat drinking tea. "And it's all over and done with and there are more important things at hand."

"The past is never past, Spoda," Maja said vaguely. "It's not even in the past. Have you rested enough, T'Paga? I want to finish this section before the light goes." He rose and walked over to the canvas. T'Paga took up her pose again. Maja took up a brush and began to paint T'Paga. He had Tien work on the garden section and they worked quickly and efficiently together.

Spock and Spoda talked about recent events in Shirkar, their careers and their families.

The afternoon passed peacefully until Spoda and T'Paga's children came home and the painting session was terminated for the day. Maja and Tien packed up, Maja taking his sketch book, crayons and watercolors under his arm and giving the paint box to Tien. They were joined by Spock in their good-byes.

On the street, they saw Farro coming to meet them and walk them home.

"Maja," Spock said. "I wish to speak to you."

"Then speak." Maja looked at him.

"Privately," Spock told him.

Maja looked thoughtfully at his children and then sent them off to the Sa mansion on their own.

"Look, Spock," Maja said. "I need some things from Svik's, let's take the number 14 bus and then we can sit by the big tree and talk, okay?"

"Very well." Spock ran his credit chip over the bus token machine twice and handed the disc to Maja. They boarded the bus, which was as prompt as all Shirkar buses.

"Hullo, Sbort!" Maja hailed the driver, an old playmate. "How long have you been driving this bus?"

"Four hours and sixteen minutes today," Sbort informed him. "Thirteen years and eighteen weeks otherwise. How are you, Maja? Hullo, Spock."

"Very well, thanks. You?"

"Well." Sbort nodded to a passenger entering behind them. It was T’Prizi.

"Spock," she said, seating herself across from him. "I was just talking about you to my cousin the other day ...."

Many, many, many stops later, T’Prizi cut herself off in midsentence and exited the bus. Spock and Maja rode the empty bus one more stop and were surprised when Sbort turned off the engine.

"End of the line, travelers."

"Where the hell are we, Sbort?" Maja asked him.

"In the Apa district. These are the new suburbs built after you left, Maja."

"Huh. Well, let's look around, Spock." Maja rose and said good-bye to Sbort. Spock said good-bye as well but also ascertained where and when they could catch the fourteen bus back to the center. They dropped out of the bus and strolled down the tidy suburban streets.

"Some of these houses are quite pretty," Maja observed, stopping to peer into gardens and examine windows.

Spock indulged him, remembering Maja's fascination with other people's houses and gardens.

They came to a particularly nice garden surrounding a house that was larger than the others. It was a small inn and Maja insisted they go and ask to see the back garden.

"After all, if the front is this fine," Maja reasoned, "the back must be truly magnificent."

Spock could not but follow and soon they were standing in a cozy foyer being greeted by a young Vulcan matron, who was pleased to show her inn to them.

It was a pleasant, tastefully appointed two storey structure with a small dining room, a parlor, and two bedrooms on the ground floor. There were two bedrooms facing the street and a suite of rooms that ran the length of the house and overlooked the back garden on the second floor. Maja's speculation about the back garden was correct: it was magnificent. They ordered tea and sandwiches and sat in companionable silence on the small patio, enjoying the garden. Maja pulled out his sketch book and began to draw.

"I'd like to paint this garden," he said.

"What impedes you, Maja?" Spock asked.

Maja glanced at the fading light. "No time, the light's going."

"We could stay here."

Maja looked up at him.

Spock continued: "I might then have your attention when you are not painting."

Maja looked back at the garden.

"And as I am not allowed at the Sas'," Spock continued, sensing victory at hand, "it will be difficult to converse with you if we do not make time now. And I wish to spend some time with you, Maja. I have thought of you often over the years."

Maja looked down at his sketch. "All right. Let's see if we can get the rooms overlooking this garden, shall we?"

Spock rose to go make the arrangements with the innkeeper.

Maja drew until it was dark and they had a simple but delicious dinner. The innkeeper could definitely cook.

"How long have you had this place?" Maja asked the Vulcaness as she cleared away their dishes.

"Three years."

"What's your name?" Maja asked.

"T'Pala."

"Do you and your husband run it?"

"We opened it together but my husband died fifteen months ago."

Maja nodded. 'Another perfectly good woman going to waste,' he thought, remembering his fling with the Imkian widow. 'What's wrong with these heterosexual men that they let such a fine woman and a good cook live alone like this. It's a sin, I tell you.'

"The garden is very beautiful." Spock observed to cover Maja's sudden abstraction.

"Thank you. I have a very good gardener and we work in it together." T'Pala bowed graciously and left them to drink their mineral water in private.

They drank in silence and eventually rose to go upstairs. Their bedrooms had a sitting room between them and after a quick look at the dark garden from the balcony, they settled into chairs, leaving the balcony door open on the mild night.

"Are you...." Maja considered the words available to him. "Are you content in Star Fleet?"

"Yes. My life is challenging and I am productive." Spock waited for Maja to comment. "Are you content?"

"Right now or in general?"

"In general."

"More or less."

"And right now?"

"Right now? Right now I'm wondering what we're doing here, Spock."

"I wanted to explain ..."

"You explained everything very clearly the night you left."

"I have had new insight since then."

"It's too fucking late."

"It is too late to alter any pain I caused you, Maja, but is it too late to apologize for causing it?"

"It is unnecessary. What's done is done."

"And yet you are angry."

"It's odd." Maja sighed. "I wasn't angry until I saw how sleek you are. How nothing has touched you, hurt you, scarred you, blessed you. Nothing, Spock, gets past your perfect Vulcanness to the core of you. To the part of you I thought I loved once. How foolish and deluded of me to think there was anything there that might love me back. What an idiot I was. Small wonder you tossed me aside when you were done with me."

"I never intended to cause you pain, Maja. I thought you were aware that my commitment to T'Pring was unshakable."

"Obviously less than your commitment to Star Fleet." Maja said. "T'Pring was not the obstacle. Something could have been arranged around her for us. She was willing, you know. I suppose it would have worked for her and Stonn as well. But only if you'd stayed on Vulcan. You see, I could have lived in T'Pring's shadow, but not in her and Star Fleet's shadow combined. Even a crix tree needs a little light now and then.

"But you told us all to go to hell, didn't you Spock? You cast your lot with your mother's people because they're weaker than we vulcanoids and you could feel what you never felt here: You could feel superior.

"And I hope your cruelty to me has given you whatever pleasure you could wring out of it. All I had the impudence to do was love you as you were. Apparently my love was so pathetic you could shake it off without much thought because that's exactly what you did."

"Why did you leave Vulcan?" Spock asked when it was apparent Maja was finished talking.

"Because I thought I was going to die. I thought my insides would be crushed by the agony I felt in my chest, in my throat, every time I saw something that reminded me of you. I ran, Spock, I ran as far as I could to where there was nothing to remind me that you didn't want me. And for a long time I still thought I would die and then time went on and I didn't die. My first thought in the morning and last thought at night were not about you. Eventually I found that entire days went by and I didn't think about you. And then weeks and months and even years.

"But you never entirely left me. One never loses the first love, no matter what. Too bad for me it was you, Spock."

"When I learned you were gone, Maja, I tried to find you, but there was not much I could do from Terra. And there really was no one I could ask on Vulcan. I wrote to you; did Ling and Jir give you my letters?"

"Yes. Later, when they left here themselves."

"Why did you not answer?"

"There was no point. You were in your life; I was in mine. Why dredge up more pain for myself?"

"I wanted to know if you were all right."

"I wasn't all right but what difference would that have made to you?"

Spock was silent.

"What could you have done about it?"

"Nothing."

"See. Nothing but sorrow and regret for me. At least I had my privacy to suffer in."

"I looked for you," Spock said softly and slowly to control his voice, "in places you could not possibly be. In crowds on Terra, I would find myself expecting to see you coming toward me, smiling and laughing.

"When I heard laughter I had to stop myself from staring because for so long you were the only one I associated with laughter.

"It was not until I had been among the Terrans for a while that I realized what I had thrown away. I saw them suffer mightily over love not even one one hundredth as strong as yours. I simply had nothing to compare it with, Maja. I am sorry for both of us.

"I could not find a trace of you anywhere. In cities on new planets I would scan the faces for you. Some part of me was always seeking you. It is illogical but there it is. Eventually it was all I had of you, this ... this seeking."

"And it is simply too late for us, Spock."

Spock nodded. "I have made certain commitments."

"And I love ... someone else. It's not the same as you, but it's as strong. And I have my work."

"As I have mine."

"Yes. Hochofedra." Maja shrugged. "Life goes on."

"Yes."

"And, now, I'm tired." Maja announced. "I do want to stay here for a few days, it's a good idea. The Sas are wearing me down - I need rest, art and normal adult conversation." He looked roguishly at Spock. "I suppose you'll have to do."

"Are you still angry with me?"

"No, not really. I've just said everything I've ever wanted to say to you. I guess you suffered as much as you could, which is probably as much as you deserve so what's to be angry about?"

"Logical."

"Ain't it?" Maja smiled his old smile. "So now I'm just tired. We'll have a few quiet days together to make peace and then we can get on with our lives." He stood and walked onto the balcony for one last look at the shadowy garden. He was neither surprised nor alarmed nor really even dismayed when Spock came up behind him and put his hands on the MageCheq's shoulders.

Spock tugged on Maja's thick braid. "Why do you still wear your hair like this?" He pulled the tie undone at the bottom of the ebony rope.

"Most of it got singed off casting bronze once. This hairdo is a habit now."

"There is nothing to singe it on here, my Maja." Spock slowly unplaited the matte jet coil.

"Oh, dunno, Spock." Maja leaned back into the VulCheq. "Seems to be plenty of sparks flying right now."

"A metaphor?" Spock wrapped his arms around Maja's waist and leaned down to nuzzle his long ivory neck.

"Yessss. Not a great one but the best I can do right now in my distracted state."

"Are you distracted?" Spock asked very close to Maja's upswept ear.

"Very." Maja turned in Spock's arms and leaned his forehead against Spock's lips, an old gesture from their youth.

Spock was nearly overcome by the juxtaposition of the memory of Maja in his arms long ago and Maja in his arms now. The intensity of the embrace was almost too much for the VulCheq. Spock tilted Maja's lips up to his and kissed him gently. He felt Maja relax against him and knew all would be well. The Vulcan nudged Maja's lips apart and ran his tongue over the closed teeth until they opened to him. Spock's tongue was half way into Maja's mouth when the MageCheq closed his teeth on it. This was from their youth as well; Spock froze, remembering being badly bitten once. Maja waited to see if Spock was going to struggle and when the Vulcan did not, Maja batted his own tongue against Spock's a few times before releasing him. Spock lingered a moment longer and then leaned back to look at Maja.

"Aren't you tired of standing up, Vulcan?" Maja asked seriously.

"If the alternative is laying down, then yes, I am tired of standing."

"Then, yes, let's go see about laying down."

The beds in both bedrooms were typical Vulcan: a thin pallet over a stone platform. Maja groaned inwardly but was cheered when Spock collected the other pallet and all the cushions and blankets to make a thicker mattress for him.

Maja kicked off his boots. He was wearing his painting togs: leggings and a baggy tunic, which he pulled off in short order. He slipped under the cover and looked up to find Spock studying him.

"What are you lookin' at, VulCheq?" Maja challenged.

"The three scars on your back."

"Are they different?"

"No. They are as I remember. Your right shoulder, however, is now larger than your left." Spock bent to remove his boots.

"From swinging a sculpture hammer all these years."

"Why did you change from painting to sculpture?" Spock neatly folded his tunic and laid on a chair.

"MajaKhat's mother taught me to sculpt, cast and throw pots. Technically she was quite proficient but had no inspiration or artistic vision. When we joined the Commune, they only needed one painter so I went in with the sculptors and have never regretted it."

"Why not?" Spock folded his pants and put them on top of his tunic.

"More power, more control over the project, get to work outside more. Painters work on what the sculptors leave them. Of course, the sculptors work on what the architects leave us so I should probably shut up."

Spock arched an eyebrow and lay down next to Maja. He pulled the MageCheq into his arms and traced the scars on his back. He heard Maja yawn and leaned back to look at him.

"Are you tired, Maja? We could simply sleep if you wish."

Maja reached down to stroke Spock's burgeoning erection. "I think not, Vulcan." He rolled Spock onto his back and straddled him, stroking their erections together. He leaned forward to tweak Spock's nipples and caress his chest.

Spock pulled his lover down into his arms and rolled on top of him. Equally matched, they wrestled like children for a while.

Maja, chuckling breathlessly, remembered the virtues of surrender and let the Vulcan pin him. He shivered with pleasure, feeling Spock's lips brush his nipple and move lower. Obligingly Maja spread his knees for Spock to nestle between.

Spock wrapped his arms around Maja's hips, elevating them and giving him better access to Maja's arching cock. The Vulcan nuzzled at the base of the pale alabaster shaft, drawing his tongue slowly from root to head, driving Maja wild. He swirled his tongue around the lilac colored head and plunged down on it.

Maja might have arched in ecstasy if Spock had not had him so firmly pinned. He contented himself with stifling his howl of pleasure with the back of his hand.

Spock removed his mouth and sat back. He pulled Maja down the bed and onto his lap, slipping a forearm under each of Maja's knees.

Maja put his arms around Spock's neck and, supported by Spock's arms, hoisted himself over the Vulcan's erection. He felt Spock lock his hands behind his back and maneuver him over his cockhead. Maja leaned forward and kissed Spock as the Vulcan lowered his lover slowly down onto his shaft.

Maja let his head fall back in pleasure as Spock hit bottom. They rested like that for a moment until Spock began to move. Supported on Spock's arms, Maja slid his body up and down on Spock's erection, while rubbing his own erection on Spock's belly. As Maja became more aroused, the more contact he sought with Spock's belly and his motions on the Vulcan's cock became more and more frantic.

Spock tightened his arms and held Maja still for a moment. He heard Maja suck in a fierce breath and felt him trembling with passion. Spock loosened his grip and set a gentler pace for them. He felt Maja relax and match his rhythm, pushing up the tempo a little, but slowing back down when Spock tightened his arms.

Maja leaned his forehead against Spock's collarbone and lengthened his strokes. He was relieved when Spock let him do this, they were both close, both ready. Maja tightened his grip on the Vulcan's shoulders but was surprised when Spock gathered him up and laid him down.

Spock adjusted his angle slightly and slid all the way in. He leaned down and gently kissed Maja. He drew back to look at Maja, whose eyes were shinning and his hair was spread out beneath him like a mantilla. It was the same, it was as if twenty years had not elapsed. Spock lengthened his thrusts, plunged all the way in and came when he felt Maja arch against him and heard his groan of pleasure. He lay on top of Maja, trying to catch his breath and stay conscious.

Flushed and panting, Maja ran his hands over Spock's warm back and kissed his cheek. He nuzzled at Spock's chin until the Vulcan turned his lips and kissed him back.

"Just like old times, no?" Maja whispered as Spock pulled out.

"Indeed." Spock rolled onto his back and settled Maja on his chest. "Indeed, my Maja."

* * *

"Sarek! What do you want? Do come in. How long has it been?" SerNera called out the kitchen door in Klingonese.

"Quite some time," Sarek said, also in Klingonese. Even Vulcans were allowed to be vague in Klingonese.

"Yes, obviously. Your accent is bad." SerNera was stacking up the dinner dishes. "Well, come in anyway. We have a genuine Klingon you can talk to for a while." He had been Sarek's Klingon tutor many years ago.

"You have an entire Klingon Commune here, SerNera." Sarek stepped into the warm, Relan tea scented kitchen.

"Oh, no. It's even worse than that, Vulcan. SoLri has a full blooded Klingon who speaks perfect Vulcan and wants conversation and composition lessons," SerNera divulged with a twinkle as he put the tea things on a tray.

"Why is that?" Sarek asked, ignoring the twinkle but noticing that no two cups matched.

"Well, this Klingon, Major KzinivDhalk, a diplomat, currently assigned to the Klingon Mission here," SerNera paused to give Sarek time to digest this. Sarek, he recalled, was a quick study but sometimes lost the thread of a story if one went too fast, "was born and grew up in the Klingon garrison on Wryztian Four that was right next to the Vulcan research station there and in that time the entire Wrystian system was so remote that nobody really cared what went on there." He tossed some Relan tea leaves into a chipped teapot. "So, I don't know if it was a Vulcan or a Klingon - probably a Klingon, they can be so innovative - suggested that since, due to some political turbulence, no more teachers could be imported from Vulcan or Klingon, that they pool their resources and send their children to the same school. There were only four Klingon children and ten Vulcans and the Vulcans were very unkind to the Klingons as we know Vulcan children can be to non Vulcans." SerNera paused again to give Sarek a piercing look and see if he was attending. Satisfied, he continued: "And this had the effect on Kziniv of a challenge to out Vulcan the Vulcans and he is perfecting himself in all things Vulcan, just to show up his old classmates, who all died of fever on the next planet they were assigned to. Isn't that fascinating?" He poured hot water over the tea.

"That they died?" Sarek asked dryly.

"All of it." SerNera plonked the teapot onto the tray.

"Yes, fascinating, all of it. Tell me, how is the major's Klingonese?"

"Terrible. Worse than yours." SerNera handed Sarek the tea tray and led him into the big room, which had not changed since Sarek's last visit, over twenty years ago. Except now it was occupied by a variety of interesting people, none of them wearing shoes.

Sarek set the tray down and pulled off his boots. He walked across the room and dropped them on the crowded rack by Svurek and his front door. He nodded to Svurek, who nodded back.

"Is this door being repaired?" Sarek asked, noticing the construction.

"Yes. Soon it will be the only way in here." Svurek said with a gleam in his eye.

"Ah." Sarek had never come in or gone out this door but had heard stories from T'Pau that to enter the Sa mansion through the front door, it was necessary to endure insults from Svurek. "Indeed." He was distracted by a pleasant buzzing in his ears.

"Sarek, come and sit down. We're speaking grammatical Vulcan and trying to teach these little savages something," SoLri called to him.

Sarek took a seat next to Hraja and surveyed the little savages. Tien he recognized from the Rovirin cathedral. Prince Strig, seated next to a lovely youth, was also known to him but the rest were strangers.

"Sarek, This is Major KzinivDhalk, undersecretary to the Klingon Ambassador, Admiral KahbreKyrit," SoLri informed him.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lord Sarek," the Klingon nodded urbanely. "I have heard much about you."

"Major." Sarek inclined his head, thinking that if you closed your eyes, Kziniv's Vulcan accent was so perfect you would not know he was not a native speaker. "SerNera tells me you are interested in our ways."

"I find the Vulcans fascinating, sir. However, I have lately developed a new appreciation for the Gozshedrefreingin Commune and all its works." The Klingon smiled at Tien and the Klingon seated next to Tien glared at him. Kziniv transferred his appreciative gaze to Hraja, who stared blandly back at him.

Tien smiled politely and rolled his eyes. "I remember you from Rovirin, Lord Sarek." He gestured to each person as he made the introduction. "This is Kalzat, he's a Klingon too, although not as high falutin' as the Major. Next to you is my younger brother, Hraja. Over there is Hraja's younger brother, Farro. Next to Farro is our cousin Polmira. Next to him is Strig. Over here by Kalzat are our cousins Lyra and Hobiea."

Sarek took in each of the JetCheqs in turn but could not keep his glance from returning to Polmira, who was astonishingly beautiful. There was something very familiar about him to Sarek as well, but the Vulcan could not place what it was.

"We were just discussing Tien, Hraja and Farro's fountain design, sir," Kziniv broke into his contemplation of Polmira. "Farro, why not show it to Lord Sarek, he might know what your chances of winning the competition are."

Farro leaned forward and pressed the sensor on a holopic in the middle of the low table. An animated three dimensional fountain design sprang up. To Sarek, it resembled an upended tree, with its roots swaying in the wind. At intervals a jet of water shot up and dripped off the shiny bronze tendrils. Sarek found himself mesmerized by it.

"What do you think?" Hraja asked softly.

"Fascinating," Sarek murmured. "Where would it be installed?"

Hraja named a courtyard not far from the new suburbs.

"I hope you win. It is an excellent design. When will you know the results?"

"In a few weeks," Tien told him. "I wonder if we will win. We've looked at other fountains in Shirkar and you Vulcans like lots of water in your fountains."

"Is that not the point of fountains?"

"YES. But this is a desert." Farro blazed in. "It's high time you people admitted that."

"What?" SoLri asked.

"A desert." Farro repeated. "All I've seen in Shirkar are lots of fountains in enviro bubbles to keep the water from evaporating. That's ridiculous and unnatural. This is a desert and the only sensible art is art that reflects that. Dry art."

Sarek and Strig exchanged puzzled looks.

"But, cousin," Polmira said in his low mellow voice. "Your fountain has water."

"The minimum to qualify, Polmi. If I'm to change the aesthetic thinking around here, I've got to get on the turf," Farro asserted.

"Of course we had nothing to do with it," Tien drawled at Hraja. All three of them had all designed the fountain, something Farro kept forgetting.

"TIEN. I know you and Hraja disagree with me..." Farro began.

"Farro, I simply don't care how much water the Vulcans waste in their desert. Unlike you, I haven't made this incongruity into a crusade."

"But it is illogical, isn't it, Strig?" Hraja turned to the Vulcan youth next to Polmira. "To live in a desert and have your public art be so alien and fragile that it must be in a special environment to survive?"

"We Vulcans are attracted to the rare and precious, as all beings are," Strig said, glancing at Polmira. "I do not find it offensive that we wish to spend our resources on something as exotic and beautiful as special environments for our fountains, if they are pleasing to the eye and ear."

Farro groaned. "Denial. You're all in denial about who you are."

"Now that I think about it, it is illogical to waste so much water in a desert." SoLri put in.

"See! See!"

"Farro, calm down," Tien chided. "Well, let's see if we lose before we go to war, okay?"

They drank their tea in silence for a while.

"What brings you back to us, Sarek?" SoLri asked.

"I am looking for Maja."

"We thought he was with you this evening. SerNera!" That Vulcan looked up from his reader. "Do you know where Maja is?"

"No idea whatsoever." And continued his reading.

"I saw him this afternoon at T'Paga's," Tien said. "He went off with Spock."

"'He went off with Spock'?" Sarek repeated. Sredia had told Sarek of Spock's visit but somehow it had not occurred to Sarek that Spock might seek out Maja.

"Yes." Tien related the entire afternoon to his rapt audience and only had his Vulcan corrected half a dozen times by SoLri in the process.

"I see." Sarek sat back, sipped his tea.

"So where are they?" SoLri asked.

"I have no idea." Sarek answered.

"How can we find out?"

"They are adults, SoLri, they may spend the night elsewhere if they choose."

"They are idiots, Sarek. How can we find them?"

"May I use your comm line?"

"Of course."

Sarek rose and made a call to Commander Ma, the Star Fleet Mission's liaison to the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, and asked him to have the call put through to Spock's communicator.

~

"What is that annoying sound?" Maja asked sleepily as Spock rummaged through his clothes for his communicator.

"Spock here."

~

"Where are you?" Sarek asked.

~

Hearing Sarek's voice, Maja sat up in surprise.

"I am in a hotel in the new suburbs, father."

~

"Why?"

~

"The garden pleased Maja and so we stayed."

~

"Is Maja with you now?"

~

"Yes."

~

Sarek turned to SoLri and the wide eyed guests. "Is there anything you wish to say to Maja, SoLri?"

"When is he coming back?"

~

"In a few days, IF nobody minds," Maja snapped into the communicator.

~

SoLri shrugged.

"Nobody minds, Maja. Good evening." Sarek terminated the comm.

~

"Hmmmm. Well, that was interesting. You'd never know we were grown up adult people, would you?" Maja snarled, wondering what Sarek was thinking right now.

"Indeed."

~

"How long have you lived on Vulcan, Major?" Sarek said blandly, resuming his seat.

"Two years. I enjoy it."

"And our public fountains do not offend you?"

"Hardly. However, I find the architecture rather bland."

"Indeed."

* * *

Maja spent the next two days painting and sketching the garden. They had the inn all to themselves and spent most of their time in the garden. Or in bed.

Maja found the late morning light most becoming to the garden and preferred to paint then. He looked over at Spock dozing on a chaise. That was a good sign; Spock only let down his guard enough to doze off with people he trusted.

'But so what?' Maja thought. 'We've made peace and had some fun and soon it will be back to reality. Hochofedra.' He mentally shrugged and tried to focus on his watercolor. It was futile so he gave up and reviewed his earlier conversation with Spock.

"Why did you join Star Fleet?"

"To leave here."

"Leave Vulcan? I thought you loved this place."

"I do not 'love' any place. I did not consider my prospects here as attractive as those Star Fleet offered."

"No, I suppose being under Sarek and T'Pring's thumbs would not have seemed attractive."

Spock stretched out on the chaise.

"Was it worth it?" Maja asked.

"Worth what, Maja?"

"Leaving. Sarek not speaking to you for eighteen years. Getting dumped by T'Pring, although you really dumped her first..."

"That is debatable."

"Let's don't and say we did. Was it worth it?"

"Yes."

"No regrets?"

"Only that I caused you and my mother pain."

Maja winced at being bracketed with Amanda but said nothing.

"Have you any regrets, Maja?"

"Many."

"Why?"

"Because I've made more decisions than you have." Hitting back for bracketing him with Amanda.

"What do you mean?"

"You just follow orders, Spock. I've had to guide the destiny of empires, as well as raise children and make art."

"In that order?"

"Actually in the reverse."

"What empires?"

"Well, I've helped out the Klingons and then we Talljets have made some progress for ourselves."

"I see." Spock decided not to remind Maja that Hobie was in jail, their putative Talljet empire was in ruins and the Klingons had just finished a war with the Roms that could have been avoided.

"True, Spock, avoided at the cost of leaving my child, my partner and your mother on Romulus and to god knows what fate," Maja snapped. "Fucking shield if you're going to think negative thoughts at me."

"My apologies. I am tired and we have grown close again. I have grown lazy around the humans about shielding."

"That must be a luxury," Maja observed, relenting. After all, Spock had only thought the truth. What was annoying was that he put the worst possible cast on it. "Shielding wears me out whenever I have to do it."

"Certainly it was not necessary with the Klingons?"

"No. But sometimes in the Commune when I want to work or pray in private I'd use those old techniques I learned here."

"Maja," Spock said after a short silence. "Do you love my father?"

"With all my heart."

"Then why are you here with me now?"

"To get it out of my system."

"I see."

"Why are you here with me now, Spock?"

"For the same reason."

"Ah." Maja had turned to his painting and Spock nodded off.

~

"Here?" McCoy had looked dubiously at the bland little structure before him. "Why would Spock be here and not with his family or at the Star Fleet Mission?"

"His communicator is here, Bones," Kirk said. "I assume he's with it. Let's go see, shall we?" He ushered the doctor up the steps.

"I still think we should have called first," McCoy grumbled.

"It'll be a surprise."

"I hate surprises, Jim."

"I love them."

They were greeted by a middle aged Vulcaness, who directed them onto the patio where they found Maja painting and Spock sleeping.

"Oh ho, Spock! We're caught by your CO and doctor," Maja laughed, rising to greet the humans. "Let's see, how's it done again?" He made an elaborate pantomime of trying to split his fingers into the Vulcan salute.

Spock rolled off the chaise and gave him a stern look.

"Captain. Doctor." Spock nodded to each in turn. "May I present Maja Talljet."

"Hiya." Maja waved.

"A pleasure to meet you, Master Ghet," Kirk said formally.

"Enchanted," McCoy observed.

"What brings you out Vulcan way, gentlemen?" Maja asked in his flawless Standard.

"Captain Talljet's trial," Kirk told him.

"Are you a witness?" Maja asked.

"No. We just delivered one."

"Oh, now you're an errand boy," Maja said innocently. Like his brothers, he was not a fan of KirkaFara.

Kirk let it pass. "And we're here to keep an eye on the eighty pirate ships you and Ling pulled in with two weeks ago."

"And every man jack, woman and child aboard 'em a Federation citizen in good standing with a valid Vulcan visa, sir," Maja informed him. "I'd say they need less watching than your ensigns on 'whore leave' after a few drinks."

"T'Pala," Spock said to the innkeeper who'd drawn near at the sound of hostile voices. He interposed his body between Kirk and Maja. "Perhaps you will bring us some tea and mineral water."

"That would be nice," McCoy said, supportively. "What an interesting garden." He took Kirk by the elbow and steered him to a seat away from Maja's easel. "This is lovely." He gestured to the finished water color.

"You may have it when it dries, Doctor." Maja frowned at a warning look from Spock. "I have made other studies since I've been here." He handed McCoy the sketch book, noticing T'Pala at the window beckoning to him. "If you'll excuse me for a moment." He went in to find out what she wanted.

"Have you dined?" Spock asked and offered to arrange lunch when they said they had not. He disappeared into the house as well.

McCoy said nothing about Kirk's wrangle with Maja and concentrated on turning pages. Not many had ever looked through one of Master Ghet's sketch books and he knew it and intended to enjoy every inch of it. He came to a two page nude of Spock sleeping in a rumpled bed. He glanced up to find Kirk scowling at it.

"Well, it's anatomically accurate at least," McCoy observed before moving on to a study of the parlor.

~

".... Kirk and McCoy have just arrived. Why don't you come and have lunch with us. It will help me control myself with KirkaFara," Maja said into the comm unit as Spock passed by.

"Whom are you inviting to lunch, Maja?"

"Your father. D'ya mind?"

"No, not at all. Tell T'Pala there will be one more." He returned to his shipmates, rather relieved to have someone to distract Kirk and Maja from one another.

~

Maja returned to the patio in a better frame of mind now that he had something to look forward to. Sarek, tired of waiting, had finally called to ascertain when, if ever, Maja was returning to him. The Vulcan's timing could not have been better.

Amanda and MajaKhat, however, could have chosen a better moment to arrive.

"Your children are running amok in the streets of Shirkar, Master Ghet." MajaKhat informed his fellow master.

"If only such a thing were possible in this town, Klingon," Maja drawled. "I'm on vacation. If you can tear yourself away from the Shirkar A-list social scene for five minutes you might look in on 'our' Commune and see what 'our' children are up to."

"Do you really think I have not?"

"Since I've been in town, I've only seen the back of your head getting into hoverlimos."

"Good afternoon," Sarek said serenely to the party at large. His initial impression of the scene had reminded him of the last days of the last Imfzinian war.

"Ah, there you are!" Maja smiled at him.

"I am not late, am I?"

"You're never late, Sarek." Maja looked behind him. "Did you bring Ling?"

"No, I brought myself. Stez is too busy scraping what's left of our fortune off the floor." Ling was not in the greatest mood. She'd had three arguments thus far today and it wasn't even lunch time. "I need to talk to you. Hullo, everyone." She waved.

"Let's see if T'Pala has enough food to feed all of us." Maja swung round on Ling. "Give me a nano, little sister and I'll be right with you. You can eat with us, yes?"

"Yes, why not? I've no money to manage so my day is very unstructured."

Maja frowned at her and bolted into the kitchen, where he assured T'Pala that everyone loved grains and not to worry about how few vegetables there were to go around. He returned to find everyone seated in the dining room and chatting amicably.

"What do you want, Ling?" Maja said quietly.

"You're going to be subpoenaed to testify in Hobie's trial."

"For whom?"

"The prosecution. Jir's trying to get it undone but he asked me to warn you."

"Can't I avoid it?"

"No."

"I thought brothers could not testify against each other in the Federation," MajaKhat said.

"Ling and I aren't related to Hobie or Jir by blood," Maja told him. "That's all that matters in the Federation courts."

"Jir is trying to get you diplomatic immunity because of your position in the Empire." Ling said.

"D'you think, Sarek?" Maja asked him.

"I am not a judge, Maja, but I doubt it. You are still a Federation citizen." Sarek, thinking of his own subpoena, was sympathetic.

"Oh, well. Are you subpoenaed, Ling?"

"Not yet." Ling nibbled on some crackers T'Pala set near her. "There is another matter."

"Yessss?"

"We're flat fucking broke and the Sas want to throw the party of the century for Hobie's 'liberation' as they are calling it."

"Ever the optimists, those Sas." Maja glanced across the table at McCoy talking quietly to Amanda.

"Qhoshi told them no but they were unimpressed. I told them no and they remain unimpressed. I want you to go straighten them out."

Maja laughed. "They don't listen to me anymore than you, Ling. Have Jir try, he's SaBrzia's favorite." Maja sipped some tea. "Or better yet, let's see if the Commune can't raise some money for it, hey?"

"You mean sell one of the children?" MajaKhat inquired.

"Or their representation," Maja said meaningfully.

Master Khat thought about this for a moment. "Oh no, Gozine, no no no. I will not sell a one of those paintings."

"Fine! I'll sell mine. And the next time you look at one of the Sas sheltering you and the Commune at their own expense and out of their own generous natures that took in four homeless orphan boys so long ago, I hope you feel like the parasite you are, Prince Khat."

The table had fallen silent as Maja's voice rose toward the end of his impassioned speech so there was an awkward moment of silence before MajaKhat answered: "Is zat so?" he snarled.

Maja Talljet did not grace that reply with an answer.

"Do you need money, Maja?" Sarek asked.

"Not yet." Maja turned his attention to the dishes being set before him. "I need food." And began to eat.

"Oh, by the way, Gozine," MajaKhat said. "While you were out, an invitation to a reception for St. Kvivnaz Day came for the Commune. There was a separate one addressed to Hraja with a note from Major KzinivDhalk, urging him to attend."

"Is that Klingon extra stupid or extra wily? He must know about KmordriYhet, they're related by marriage."

"How do you know that?" Ling asked.

"When the major began to show an unhealthy interest in Hraja, I made a few inquiries. He's rich, got good prospects, seemed very affable to me, speaks better Vulcan than most Vulcans. Too bad he's from a weak, minor clan and related to that beast Kmordri." Maja started on his soup, which was thin.

"You can't have been considering handing my son over to him or to anyone, Gozine," MajaKhat asked in a shocked voice.

Maja looked up surprised. "Well, no not really," he lied. 'Only if it would form a useful alliance somewhere,' he added mentally.

MajaKhat dropped the subject before he was forced to hear some twisted Gozineian rationalization. He looked across the table: "Spock," he nodded. "Seems like a very long time since we met on Rovirin."

"Much has transpired in the past ten months," Spock said blandly.

"Yes," McCoy put in, trying to jump start the conversation. "Much."

"Is this your first visit to Shirkar, Captain?" Amanda came to the rescue.

"Yes, it is."

"But not to Vulcan," Maja stated.

"No, not to Vulcan. But the first time in Shirkar," Kirk clarified. "It's a lovely city. Amazing fountains."

"And soon to be another." Sarek turned to Maja. "I saw your sons' fountain design. I hope they win."

"Did you hear Farro's Vulcan fountain philosophy?"

"Yes. Most interesting."

The Majas chuckled, remembering Farro pontificating over dinner one evening.

"Grace Blyton is in town. I met her at a reception a few days ago," Amanda continued. "She'll be pleased to see you."

"There's quite a bit of Star Fleet here for the trial," Kirk said. "Admiral Jessup and his staff, Commodore Wolfe and her flagship, Commodore Yakolev and his flagship..."

"It's a convention," Ling put in.

"It's a warparty," Maja observed.

"Is that the same Yakolev as was on Rovirin?" MajaKhat asked.

They looked at Kirk: "Yes, it is," he answered.

"Ambassador Sdiz is also in Shirkar," Sarek said. "I saw him at the Interplanetary Ministry. He asked about you Talljets."

"I bet. You know he's still after Jir," Ling said.

"And will be until Stonet returns from the dead," Maja said bitterly.

"The Kolinahr are not the dead, Maja," Spock said.

"They are dead to those they leave behind, Spock," Maja said quietly.

"What are we talking about?" MajaKhat asked, annoyed.

"Jir's lover, Stonet, left him for Gol, what? Sixteen, eighteen years ago and Jir never really got over it. Sdiz knows this and has been trying to get into Jir ever since," Ling said. "Although Jir's jumped everything that moved trying to forget Stonet, to his credit, he's resisted the Sdiz."

"Can't be easy to forget Stonet when he sees his brother everyday," Maja said.

"Who is?" MajaKhat asked.

"Storen, Jir's law partner."

"Do any of you Talljets ever have happy romances?" MajaKhat asked.

"Sometimes." Maja and Ling smiled at each other. "So, Kirk," Maja said. "Do you have some time to kill in Shirkar or does StaFlet have you swabbing the decks round the clock or something?"

"Yes, Master Ghet, I have some free time while I'm here."

"And you, Doctor?"

"The same."

"Well then, Spock, why don't you take Kirk to see your farm and I'll take McCoy to meet the Commune," Maja suggested, wanting to get a better idea of the man who'd won Spock's heart.

Spock: "I don't think...."

Kirk: "I never knew you had a farm."

Maja: "It's a wonderful farm."

Spock: "Hardly wonderful, Maja."

Sarek: "It is very productive. More than ever since Spock took over its management."

Ling: "What are you growing out there, Spock?"

Spock: "Vegetable proteins."

Ling: "Hydroponics or underground?"

Spock: "Both."

Ling: "Where are you getting your water?"

Spock: "From the neighboring farm."

Amanda: "From T'Pring's farm?"

Spock: "From her father's farm manager, Mother."

Ling: "Who cut the deal for it?"

Spock: "My farm manager."

Maja stood. "Well, this is fascinating but I've got to go to the Commune. I hear my children are running amok in the streets of Shirkar."

"I, too, have things to attend to this afternoon." Sarek rose. "You will excuse me. Maja, a word with you."

Ling smiled at McCoy: "Well, Doctor? To the farm or to the Commune?"

"What a difficult decision, Ling."

Ling looked at MajaKhat, who said: "I guess you'll be welcome in the Commune later, if you like. Captain Kirk and Spock as well."

"I am banned from the Sa mansion until further notice," Spock said.

"Why?" Amanda asked.

"Because of Maja."

"That's outrageous!"

"Mother, please..."

"I'll see what I can do to get it lifted, Spock." Ling rose as well. "Come along later, or call first."

~

Maja walked Sarek to his car. "Will I see you tonight?" the Vulcan asked.

"Yes, of course. Spock will be elsewhere, and..." Maja looked up at him. "And whatever that was was and isn't anymore."

Sarek smacked two fingers against Maja's lips. "That pleases me, 'tho it should not."

"Why?" Maja laughed.

"My son is a more logical choice for you."

"Damn logic; what has it ever done for us?"

Maja watched Sarek's face close.

"Maja, at Hobie's trial ..."

"Sarek, can you give me lift back to the center?" Ling called from the doorway.

"Yes." He stepped aside to let Ling get in the car. "Maja, we will talk later."

"If we can't find anything better to do with our mouths, yes." Maja made sure Amanda was watching before he leaned forward and pecked Sarek's lips.

"Madcap." Sarek got in the car. "Until tonight, then." He signaled his driver.

Maja swung back up the path and past the little group at the door. "Well, good-bye!" And went to pack up his paints and crayons. He picked out a stack of watercolors and drawings, signed them MT and also with his Klingon rune, gave them to T'Pala and asked her to order a taxi for him and thanked her for the superb meals.

"Are you two coming back to the Sas' with me?" he asked Amanda and MajaKhat. They nodded. "Will I see you later, Terrans? Spock?"

"If you have the ban lifted, yes. I would like to meet the rest of the Commune," Spock said.

"And I've never seen a Klingon Commune," Kirk said.

"Nor I," McCoy added.

"I'll do my best, Spock, even if I have to use logic on poor old SaBrzia." He waved at the approaching vehicle. "Ah, and we go." He nodded at the trio on the steps and was gone.

Spock stepped inside to settle the bill and soon was also gone from the widow T'Pala's lovely garden.

* * *

"Come now, Hobie," Strat complained. "Play me a shuffle."

Hobie obliged and listened carefully to Strat's solo and bettered it when his own came by.

"I am sorry you're in jail but I am not sorry you left Shirkar," Strat informed him.

Hobie leaned over his borrowed lyre: "Tell me again, dahlin', I love to hear it - it makes me feel soooo wonderful."

"I would not have enjoyed competing with you as a lyre player," Strat carefully enunciated across the security field of Hobie's cell. "I might have had to switch to the lute in self defense." He waited for Hobie to stop laughing. "I have missed Maja's singing. Does he still?"

"Of course." Hobie drank some juice. "But we don't get much chance. We are or were busy and dynamic people."

"No doubt, Hobie."

"Let us play some Immans." They did, for quite a while and to the great joy of Hobie's jailers. Strat was the most celebrated lyre player of his generation and Hobie was just a little bit better. For lovers of lyre music it was something of a dream concert.

"We should give a recital when you get out, Hobie." Strat suggested.

"We should," Hobie agreed. "My chops are way up. All I do in here is practice, read and argue with Jir."

"Argue about what?"

"He's out for blood."

"Whose?"

"Can't tell you."

"Hobie, you might not know this but you've got the hottest lawyers from the hottest law firm in the Federation working for you." Strat knew this because he'd had Talljet and Storen negotiate various contracts for him. He was surprised to find he'd only been charged a credit an hour for the work. Jir's response to his note of inquiry was that it was the 'family rate'. Strat followed Jir and Storen's careers because they were old friends and they were, according to the media, great legal minds. "You do want out of here, do you not?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Hobie pick up his lyre. "Play me a shuffle, Strat."

* * *

"This is quite good." Polmira was trying to figure out how to eat the sticky, gooey cake Strig had brought him. "What's it called?"

"Aahsav." The Vulcan youth watched with some interest as Polmira dug in with his long white fingers.

Polmira looked up with delighted eyes. He was enjoying the attention from Strig. They were seldom alone but today he'd managed to find a quiet corner where they could have some privacy. They were seated on the purple couch in Maja's old studio, although they didn't know it was Maja's old studio, they just knew it was remote and they were unlikely to be disturbed. Polmira had led a very sheltered life and was not sure why he did not want them to be disturbed, except that lately it was crucial that they were not disturbed.

Tien and Kalzat were usually camped here but Tien had been sent to finish T'Paga's portrait so he was out and Kalzat was with the Commune regilding the ceiling molding in the ballroom. Polmira might have been with them but he'd plead that he had homework that Strig was helping him with and escaped to this cozy spot.

"This is wonderful," Polmira sighed, licking syrup off his fingers.

He shivered when Strig reached over and took his hand and started to lick the syrup off his fingers for him.

SaCriz pushed the door open and they froze.

"Oh, excuse me. I was just looking for my reader." He looked around the room. "Ah, there it is. Why Tien can't return things is a mystery." He mumbled on his way out, stopped and turned back. "Wait a moment, I remember this," he pointed at Polmira's fingers in Strig's mouth. "I remember this from Spock and Maja." He stepped back into the room. "I remember this leads to trouble." He sat down in a chair by the window. "So. I will just sit here and read for the rest of your visit, Prince Strig." And clicked on the reader.

Polmira pulled out his school bag and he and Strig spent the remainder of the afternoon going over Vulcan grammar and important dates in Vulcan history.

* * *

"They were what?" Maja had to have SaCriz repeat what he'd seen Polmira and Strig doing in Maja's old studio.

"I would have thought Strig would be more decorous," SaCriz observed.

"I wouldn't have thought he'd have that much fire," Maja mused. "But I've been wrong about that before."

"Maja, be serious."

"I am as serious as a meteorite shower." Maja strolled down the stairs and into the huge foyer, which was, now that the front door and the rest of the mansion were operational, almost devoid of furniture.

"Maja!" Svurek scowled at him. "How did you get in here?"

"I climbed over the back fence and onto the third storey balcony so I could get to SaBrzia faster," Maja said factually. "I had something serious to settle with him."

"Well, go round and come in properly."

"Why?"

"The front door works again," Svurek said with a gleam in his eye. "This is the way in and out now."

Maja looked over at SaCriz for guidance. The Vulcan's face was blanker than usual. 'Hochofedra,' he shrugged. 'If it makes the old boy happy, what's the harm?'

Ten minutes later Maja felt like he'd been verbally gutted. Svurek neatly laid out all of Maja's shortcomings before he let him back in.

"The old traditions are the best, Maja," SaCriz comforted. "One must really want to come in here to endure Svurek, and his father before him and his father before him and his father before him, and..."

"I see," Maja interposed. "It's incredible anyone would want to come in here at all."

"Spock's great great great grandfather endured much worse to visit SaKoza when I was a child."

Maja had recovered enough to smile at the old man. "I might have run that gauntlet to visit SaKoza myself." He walked back to Svurek. "Look, you, SaBrzia has lifted the Spock ban so let him and his Star Fleet pals in when they get here." Maja turned away and turned back. "And for god's sake, please, please, please, don't give them a hard time."

"It's my job, Maja."

"So, no one escapes?"

"I greet everyone that seeks to enter this place."

'Greet? Eviscerate, more like,' Maja thought. "Well could you make an exception?" He looked into Svurek's bright eyes, brighter than he'd ever remembered seeing them and realized that the answer was no.

Hearing three sets of footsteps on the walkway, Svurek turned like a hawk wheeling on a hare far below. He swung the door open on the first knock and stood blocking it with his frail body.

Spock hesitated but was reassured seeing Maja behind Svurek.

"I salute this house," Spock said, using the old greeting to, hopefully, impress the old Vulcan. "And beg admittance for myself and visitors to the Shirkar oasis." He was rewarded with a scowl from Svurek but a thumbs up from Maja and an encouraging nod from SaCriz.

"Ya do, huh?" Svurek snarled. "And what in here could possibly tempt a creature like you to want to come in here again, Spock? You've already ruined Maja. Unless you're planning to seduce and abandon his bastard children, I can't see what you want here."

A really horrible silence fell over the group. And then they all jumped.

"What goes on here?!?" Farro demanded from behind Kirk. "I want to come in and the back door is locked. Has a sign says 'please use front door'. Well, of course! Oh, hullo, Spock. Do you see this intricate wrought iron trellis around this recessed porch? I did that. It's magnificent. I'm very proud of it. And Hraja reset these stones and recarved these weird figures...."

"I believe they are symbols for the founding of the Shirkar oasis," Spock informed him, glad to have a reason to turn away from Svurek's disapproving eye.

"Whatever, they're very very," Farro drawled. "But isn't this a great door now?"

"Visually it is quite pleasing," Spock allowed as the youngster stepped past him.

"Okay, I'm home now," Farro announced to Svurek, who seemed, to Farro, to be blocking his entrance.

"I'm not sure I can let you in here," Svurek snarled. "Do you always make this much noise?"

Maja gasped in horror and rushed forward to fling himself in front of his youngest cub. "Don't you even try it, you evil old Vulcan fossil!"

"What's the deal, Master?" Farro whispered.

"Ah. Svurek," SaCriz murmured. "Absolutely tip-top. I can't remember you in better form. I rather think by Spock's face that he is sincere about wanting to come in here and will behave himself this time. As for Farro, well, I'm sure he'll quiet down once he has something to eat, you know how boys are, and he lives here..."

"So do I and I didn't escape," Maja squawked.

"You are also older and more flawed than Farro," SaCriz observed. "You do, however, make fully as much noise as he does." He turned back to Svurek. "So. Bravo! You can let them in knowing you've done some of your best work here." SaCriz made as if to usher the little party on the step inside.

"I haven't greeted the Terrans yet," Svurek said.

"They're Terrans, Svurek, what is there to say?" SaCriz observed mildly.

"True enough, that." Svurek stepped back. "You have the protection and succor of this house as long as you are in it. Strength and fidelity."

"Abundance and wisdom," Spock said as he led them across the threshold. He surprised and impressed the old Vulcans by knowing the ancient greeting and response. T'Pau had explained it to him when he first began to visit Maja in this house. At that time, it had been useless information as this door and Svurek's acid tongue were not in use then.

Maja sent a rather subdued Farro to the Commune for revivification and turned to welcome his guests and introduce the Terrans to SaCriz. "Sorry, I think it's an old custom."

"Very old indeed, Maja." SaCriz told them as they strolled through the restored mansion. "It is from a time when it was not safe to allow any but a sworn ally into your home, near your women and children. That reminds me, Maja, I want you to have a very serious talk with Ling. We Sas sequester our women and that now includes Ling."

"SaGolia isn't sequestered." Maja pointed out.

"She was when she was younger."

"SaCriz, with all due respect to your weird Sa customs, I very much doubt Ling is going to allow herself to be sequestered. Especially now, with the recent currency crash. She says we're flat broke and stop spending money." Maja hoped to direct the conversation onto a safer groove.

"Nonsense. If you refer to the ball we plan for Hobie's liberation, we will borrow the money if necessary," SaCriz said firmly.

"You mean that, don't you?" Maja asked as he had asked whenever SaCriz scolded him for some indiscretion in the past.

"Yes. I do. You see." SaCriz gestured to the huge cavern of a ballroom they had just entered. It was a two storey room with high windows and a mezzanine. The walls and ceiling were painted with murals depicting the founding of the oasis: the first Sas vanquishing strange beasts for the water here. Later in the Sa history, the marriage of SaVren and SoSrita, which forged an alliance and peace ten thousand years before the birth of Surak. The couple were surrounded by priests of the ancient way dressed as animal totems. Further along, scenes from the tragedy of SaSkolta and SiLosknir were depicted. Among the other events in Sa history illustrated were the founding of the mansion, the founding of Shirkar, the prophetess SaDursa discovering the springs that would demarcate the old families' estates around the oasis, and lastly, the last pre-reform head of the Sa clan, SaMizram, leading the other clan leaders and warriors to battle with the Surakian forces.

Spock was fascinated. Some of these murals, he now realized, had illustrated his boyhood Vulcan history texts.

McCoy was impressed by the passion of the murals, their rich colors and sensuous composition.

Kirk estimated the room to be about the size of the shuttlebay on the Enterprise. He was wrong; the room was a little larger.

"Wow!" Maja yelped. "I never knew these were here!" He swung round at Spock. "We used to play in here, remember?" Spock nodded. "Do you remember these?"

"No."

"They were covered with moss at that time, Maja," SaCriz said. "The Commune has done us a great service in restoring them." He nodded to Kalzat, just coming down a ladder.

"Master." He inclined his head to Maja. "That's the last of the goldleaf."

'No wonder Ling is crazed about money,' Maja thought looking around at the vast expanses of gilded molding. "Well done, Kalzat. Do you know Spock, Kirk and McCoy?"

"No," the Klingon said flatly and walked away.

"He's tired," Maja explained. "Goldleafing is a hell."

"I met him on Rovirin, Maja," Spock said.

"He must be very tired if he forgot that, Spock," Maja said. "Well, anyway, come and eat with us and I'll introduce you to the rest of the Commune."

At the table McCoy found himself seated next to Maja, who was examining him closely.

"Looking for warts, Master Ghet?" the doctor asked quietly.

"Not unless you've got magic warts that make stony hearts fall in love with you," Maja teased in an undertone. He was actually examining the fact that Spock was bonded to Kirk and not McCoy, as everyone thought. He found this extremely interesting and wondered how they all coped with it. They coped quite well, if Maja was reading the doctor's glowing and healthy telefield correctly.

"I would say that is your talent more'n mine, sir."

"How so?"

"Spock and his father fell in love with you, didn't they?"

Maja glanced at Amanda in conversation with Kirk before he answered. "The timing gods were with me in both cases."

"How so?"

"Sarek was in a jam and had, I thought, a weak moment. What's surprising there is that he still wants me."

"And Spock?"

"Well," Maja glanced at Spock conversing with Master Whilla. "I met Spock shortly after his pet Sehlat, I'Chaya, died and he was in mourning. I just fit neatly into the void, that's all." Maja smiled wryly. "You, on the other hand, appear to have swept him off his feet at the peak of his powers. How ever did you do it?"

"I was very mean to him and then we almost died together."

"How romantic," Maja observed.

"Well, that came later." McCoy paused to enjoy Maja's laughter. "You must still have 'it,' Maja, you were with him for three days."

"Oh, that was just nostalgia. Spock is hard for me to enjoy like this."

"Like how?"

"Successful, secure and contented." Maja said. "Can't help it, I fell in love with a wounded little half caste, not this StaFlet bravo." Maja looked deeply into McCoy's amused eyes. "By the way, thanks."

"For what?"

"For saving him, so he can be a StaFlet bravo."

"It was my pleasure, Maja." McCoy watched the half Mage lapse into abstraction. "The trial begins tomorrow, doesn't it?"

"Aye." Maja listened to his mind, felt his brothers and sister communing with him and he with them on the eve of Hobie Talljet's trial in Shirkar Federation Court #3.

* * *

Jir had once mused to Maja that there must be an archetype for courtrooms because they were similar all over the galaxy and down through time.

Shirkar Federal Court #3 was no exception. The Judges and witnesses faced the prosecution and defense. Lapham, Charbon and Sarfati sat at their table and Storen and Smig sat across the aisle from them. Next to Storen and Smig was the image of another table where Hobie and Jir sat looking on in three dimensional holo splendor. The court had decided that this was the best way to ensure that the powerful telephatic Talljets did not influence events in their favor. It was not the most perfect arrangement but it was better than nothing. Other than the judges, three bailiffs and the attorneys, the courtroom was empty.

The Terrans wore their Star Fleet uniforms, the judges wore black robes and the Vulcan attorneys wore gray robes. All the vulcanoids had shaved their heads, except Hobie, who had his flowing ebony locks neatly tied back and flowing tidily down his back. Captain Talljet was also wearing his prison romper - a smartly cut blue-gray jumpsuit that was unintentionally flattering and nicely set off by Hobie's tall buccaneeresque boots.

"Be seated. Prosecution, call your first witness." Lord Suqiet, as senior judge in Hobie's trial, opened it without ceremony.

"The Federation calls DveKrit," Lapham said.

A burly mongrel humanoid was brought in from a secure area and seated in the witness chair.

The bailiff moved to his side. "State your name to the Court," he instructed.

"DveKrit." A snarl.

"The penalty for perjury in a Federation court is five years for each count. Are you now fully aware of the penalty for perjury in a Federation court?"

"Yes."

"Proceed." The bailiff stepped away from the witness.

Lapham stepped forward: "DveKrit, have you given a sworn statement to this court that you witnessed Hobie Talljet murder a trader named Gatshira in the city of Mse on Fobda?"

"Yes."

"Please repeat your statement here for the record."

DveKrit cleared his throat: "I met Hobie in a bar in Mse and he asked me if I wanted to come along while he closed a deal with Gatshira. I said yes and off we went to Gatshira's office. When we got there, Gatshira asked everybody else to leave and then he and Hobie got in an argument over the price of whatever Hobie was buying from him and then Hobie grabbed the old man and broke his neck."

"And then what happened?"

"Then we left. And that was the last I saw of Hobie until now."

"No further questions." Lapham sat down.

"Defense." Lord Suqiet looked at Jir, who dutifully rose to his feet.

"DveKrit, what was the name of the bar you met Hobie in?" Jir asked.

"I can't remember."

"How did you and Hobie go to Gatshira's office? On foot or by vehicle?"

"I don't remember."

"At Gatshira's office, what floor was it on?"

"I can't remember."

"Did you take the stairs or a lift?"

"I don't remember."

"What was Hobie trying to buy from Gatshira?"

"I don't know. I wasn't listening to them."

"Why not?"

"It was none of my business. I was just waiting for Hobie to finish."

"Finish what?'

"His deal."

"What deal?"

"I dunno."

"Objection. The witness has stated he did not know what Captain Talljet and Gatshira were discussing." Lapham rose.

"Sustained. Get on with it, SaJir." Lord Suqiet was brusque.

"Yes, sir." Jir suppressed an urge to brush his non-existent hair off his shoulders. "DveKrit, was Lii with you when you claim you saw Captain Talljet kill Gatshira?"

"No, he came in afterward."

"Where was Gatshira's body when Lii came in?"

"On the floor."

"Face up or face down?"

"I don't remember."

Jir looked down at his notes: "You said just now that 'Hobie grabbed the old man and broke his neck'. Did you see him grab him?"

"Yes."

"Where were you standing?"

"By the window."

"Were you watching Captain Talljet argue with Gatshira?"

"Yes."

"But you don't know what they were arguing about?"

"Objection. The witness has answered this question twice already," Lapham said.

"Sustained. Make your point, SaJir," Lord Suqiet growled.

"Yes, sir. DveKrit, where were Captain Talljet and Gatshira standing in the office?"

"I don't remember."

"DveKrit, you say Captain Talljet 'grabbed the old man.' Was it from the front or the back?"

"From the front."

"And then what happened?"

"Hobie snapped his neck like a twig."

"And then what happened?"

"Then we left."

"What happened after 'Hobie snapped his neck like a twig' and before you left?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"SaJir." Lord Suqiet warned.

"Your Honor, the witness just stated that Lii came in after Gatshira was dead but before he and Captain Talljet left the room. Now he says nothing happened before they left the room. Which is it?"

Lord Suqiet stared at Jir for a moment: "Phrase your questions as yes or no answers."

Jir, knowing Suqiet well, was ready for this. It was the old man's favorite ruse to move things along. He turned back to DveKrit.

"Did Lii come in after Gatshira was dead?"

"Yes."

"Was Captain Talljet still holding the body when Lii came in?"

"No."

"Was it on the floor?"

"Yes."

"Did Captain Talljet take anything from the room before you left?"

"No."

"Did you and Captain Talljet leave with Lii?"

"Yes."

"Did you take the lift or the stairs?"

"I can't remember."

"Did you and Lii and Captain Talljet separate inside the building?"

"No."

"Outside?"

"Yes."

"On the street?"

"Yes."

"Was it raining?"

"I don't remember."

"On your way out of the building, did you see anyone?"

"No."

"So. You, Captain Talljet and Lii left Gatshira lying dead on the floor of his office and exited the building?"

"Yes."

"I have no further questions." Jir remained standing, a signal he was not finished, while DveKrit was lead back to his cell.

Jir turned to Smig who rose in the courtroom. "Your Honors, the Defense would like to submit a Verified Mseian Police Report that states the victim was found seated in a chair in his office and had been strangled to death." Jir paused while Smig handed up one data chip. "I would also like to submit another Verified Mseian Police Report that states the victim was shot to death on the steps of his office building." Smig handed up another chip. "I would further like to submit one last Verified Mseian Police Report that the victim drowned and fished up out of the harbor three days before there is any record of Captain Talljet even arriving on Fobda." Jir watched Smig return to his seat while he waited.

"The Court will take these conflicting verified reports under its consideration," Lord Suqiet growled. "Counsel, if you had these reports, you had no need to waste this Court's time in cross examination of that witness."

"I request the Court disregard the witness and his testimony as unreliable and now unverifiable." Jir said with a touch too much timing.

"SaJir, if you waste this Court's time discrediting witnesses in cross examination that are already discredited otherwise, I will forbid or severely limit your cross examination time." Lord Suqiet said evenly.

"Yes, sir." Jir cursed his inner prima donna and hoped he looked 'serious' enough. "In that case, in light of these new and conflicting Mseian Police Reports, I request that the Court disregard the next witness, Lii, as his testimony was only a corroboration of DveKrit's."

"No. We will hear the witness. Call him." Lord Suqiet turned to the bailiff.

Lapham rose: "Your Honor, we'd like a thirty minute recess."

"No. Call your witness. Now." Only those that knew Lord Suqiet well could tell he was irritated.

"Prosecution calls Lii," Lapham said dully. He was shocked he couldn't get a recess.

A tall swarthy VrsiliCheq swaggered into the witness box, stated his name was Lii and affirmed his understanding of the Federation's perjury law.

"Please repeat the contents of your sworn statement for the record, Lii," Lapham asked once his witness was settled.

"I came in looking for Gatshira and I saw Hobie break his neck. Hobie let him fall to the floor and was standing over his body when I came in. DveKrit was there and we all three left together." The VrsiliCheq cast a furtive glance at Hobie, who was looking on with mild interest.

"No further questions, your Honor." Lapham hastily sat back down.

"Defense." Lord Suqiet looked at Jir.

Jir stood. "Lii, where was DveKrit standing when you came in?"

"By the desk."

"Do you remember what he was doing?"

"I think he was looking at some papers."

"Do you know what papers?"

"No."

"Do you remember what time it was?"

"Afternoon some time."

"When you were coming to Gatshira's office, was the door open or closed?"

"Open. I could hear them arguing."

"Who arguing?"

"Hobie and Gatshira."

"About what?"

"Money. What else?"

"Can you be more specific?" Jir was intrigued by this embroidery. He glanced at Lord Suqiet to see how he was taking it but his face was unreadable.

"Gatshira wanted more for something than Hobie wanted to pay, I think. Hard to remember now."

Jir nodded. "One last question: when you three left, did you take the stairs or the lift?"

"The lift because DveKrit was limping."

"Limping from what?"

"It was raining that day. He'd slipped in a puddle earlier in the day, he said."

Jir thoughtfully inhaled. "I have no further questions, your Honor." He remained standing while Lii was led out. He nodded to Smig, who rose and warily approached the bench with a data chip. "Your Honor, I wish to submit a blueprint of Gatshira's office/warehouse. It does not contain a lift."

"Is this the only blueprint of Gatshira's office/warehouse, Counsel?" Lord Suqiet snarled subtly.

"It is, your Honor," Jir said solemnly. "The only one we could find."

* * *

"You will accomplish nothing provoking Lord Suqiet, Jir," Storen warned late that afternoon in Jir's office.

Jir rolled on his bed and adjusted his loin cloth. A trail of gray robes led from the door to the duvet. "It's hard to control myself. All I want to do is pirouette around the room and laugh."

"That would be magnificent, Jira," Smig said. "But this is Vulcan and you must play your part."

"All right, all right. I get it." Jir leaned into his intercom and asked when their dinner from Strivasa, the best restaurant in Shirkar and the law firm's usual caterer, would arrive. Sobora told him very soon. "It's my first day, I'm nervous - yes! I admit it! - I'm nervous but I'll be in better form tomorrow. Today went better then I expected."

"Unreliable prosecution witnesses and conflicting police reports usually bode well for the defense, Jir." Storen was a realist. "Tomorrow you will need all your wits and perhaps more."

"Aye," Jir agreed. "Ibri Adniz. I met her once. Six years ago. Incredible woman. Tall, serene, graceful. Reminded me of T'Pau on a good day. I had to resist curtseying to her. Hobie said he has the same problem. She's vicious, 'tho. I saw her shoot down one of her own crew that didn't move fast enough. I heard about the Miska system, she wrung every bit of juice out of it before Star Fleet ran her off. Whole planets were stripped for slaves and raw materials. The one planet that resisted, Qinpia, was fried as an example to the rest. After that, no resistance. The system lost forty percent of its population and the ecosystems of six planets are on the critical list." The food arrived and he paused while it was laid out on the table by the window. "And this is to whom the Federation offers immunity so they can nail Hobie."

"She will be a formidable witness," Storen said.

"Then we must be formidable attorneys." Jir turned his attention to his meal and asked after Smig's mother. It was not the firm's custom to discuss business at meals.

* * *

'Catalogue of works offered for sale from the private collection of the Sa family.'

Amanda looked up from the Shara Auction House prospectus on her viewer and a question at MajaKhat.

"The Masters decided that there would be less objection from the Church if the paintings did not seem to come directly from the Commune. We are, in many respects, considered property and therefore do not really own what we produce. However, we are allowed to give non-commissioned work to whomever we please and if they choose to sell it and give us the money, no one has ever really objected." MajaKhat shrugged.

"How many are your paintings?"

"Five. Three from my collection and two that I gave Gozine."

"I'm sorry you must give them up, Maja."

"Yes, me too. But I am glad that I'm alive to be able to give them up. I owe the Talljets this much, if not more."

Amanda scrolled down to two impressive landscapes and a portrait of Tien grinding pigment in a huge pestle and daydreaming when he was twelve by Master Whilla.

'Master Brij Gozshedrefreingin Whilla

1. View of the Tossarian Gates at twilight. (Oil on treated mylar) 3M X 4.5M

2. Portrait of Tien Gozshedrefreingin baMajaKhat. (Oil on canvas) 2.75M X 5M

3. Strand of trees on Rovirin. (Oil on canvas) 3M X 6M'

"I remember him painting these trees on Rovirin," MajaKhat said. "We had almost finished the garrison but had not started the cathedral and so Whilla, the structural designer, was at a stop. He was bored so he set up an easel to amuse himself. Brij never amuses himself. He ate and slept next to that easel until the painting was done. It turned out to be a great painting. I was totally impressed; I didn't know he had that much technique."

'Master Uzqin Gozshedrefreingin Dhec

1. Casting bronzes in the Gozshedrefreingin Commune. (Oil on canvas) 2M X 4M

2. Master Ghet and his apprentice selecting marble. (Oil on canvas) 4.5M X 7M

3. The shore and hills at Lokka. (Acrylic on mylar) 3M X 5M'

"'Master Ghet selecting marble' was made to win a bet that the bronze sculptors could paint as well as the painters. They can; they won. They paint fast, too, they had this done in two days. Master Dhec also wanted to make a point that one could take as mundane a subject as selecting raw marble and make it dramatic by painting it in the style of a religious subject. He was right about that - Gozine and Hraja look like saints in this painting. Amazing a bronze sculptor can paint this well. I'm so glad he prefers to work in metals."

Amanda smiled and scrolled down to Maja Talljet's work.

'Master Gozine Gozshedrefreingin Ghet

1. View of the scaffolding on the Tossarian Gates. (Oil on canvas) 2M X 3M

2. Sleeping youth (Hraja Gozshedrefreingin baMajaKhat) (Oil on canvas) 2.5M X 5M

3. Western view of the city of Nakfrin. (Acrylic on mylar) 2M X 2M

4. Drawing class in the Gozshedrefreingin Commune (Tien as figure model) (Oil on canvas) 3.5M X 4M

"Gozine has trouble sleeping so he paints. He thought the scaffolding on the Tossarian Gates was especially wonderful and painted this to honor Master Whilla. Scaffolding can be the difference between living and dying on a project like that, you know.

"I've never liked this painting of Hraja, he looks like a harem boy in it.

"Kalzat will not be happy to have a nude of Tien floating around in the art world but what can you do? This is very much how a drawing lesson looks in the Commune."

"Yes, I know. I've modeled for them."

"That seems like a long long time ago, doesn't it?"

Amanda nodded and scrolled to the last set of images.

'Master Maja Gozshedrefreingin Khat

1. Master Ghet and his young children (Oil on canvas) 4M X 4M

2. Gozine the Confessor (Oil on canvas) 3M X 4.5M

3. Tien, Hraja, Farro and Kalzat playing under their tree (Oil on canvas) 3M X 4M

4. Tien and Kalzat (Oil on canvas) 3M X 3M

5. Master Ghet and his children (Oil on canvas) 5M X 5M

"No wonder you don't want to give them up." Amanda said quietly.

"I painted this first one when Farro had just learned to walk. It was a hell to get him to stay in the group.

"This portrait of Gozine the Confessor was commissioned by a Haat general who died before it was completed.

"They loved this tree when we lived on Zatichket so much they wanted to live in it. They were jealous of it and wouldn't let the other children play under it. It was their obsession so I painted this so they would have a memento of it.

"I didn't realize it when I was painting them, but I think Tien and Kalzat had just fallen in love."

"They look it."

"Don't they? They were about fifteen then. They still look at each other this way. Love; it's utterly amazing.

"And this is the hardest to give up. I finished this just before Gozine ... just before he left Rovirin. I like the composition of Gozine seated and the children standing around his chair. Gozine has his hammer and chisel in his hands with the runes on the back of his hands facing up. The children grouped around him, Tien holding a palette, Hraja with a hammer and chisel, Farro with a small bronze, each indicating their métier. I couldn't put Kalzat in directly but if you look in the mirror, there he is."

"Was this a commission?"

"No. I made it for me. It turned out to be the last time we were all together as a family."

Amanda nodded. "Perhaps you should withdraw it."

"Well, actually Amanda, this is a copy. I still have the original."

"Well, that's good." She smiled. "When is the auction?"

"In three days. Gozine is making sure certain wealthy Klingons hear about it. KmordriYhet for one."

"Does Master Ghet realize how much Hraja suffered from that Klingon?"

"No. What Master Ghet realizes is how little, in his opinion, Hraja suffered from that Klingon. What concerns me is that Master Ghet might try to manipulate that Klingon with Hraja."

"Would he?"

"If he thought he could, he might. Master Ghet has much in common with my mother."

* * *

"...It was in Hobie's best interest for Hypz to die." Ibri Adniz finished her story.

"No further questions, your Honor." Lapham sat and felt sure that Jir wasn't going to be able to punch holes in this witness.

"Defense." Lord Suqiet looked over at Jir's holo. He noticed Hobie had an odd look on his face - half amused, half annoyed - but being Vulcan could not equate the visage with any emotional state so he dismissed it.

Jir rose and braced his knees so as not to curtsey to the Pirate Queen as she was known in some circles.

"Ibri," he said. "Why were you on Meza 6 when Hypz was murdered?"

"I needed repairs on my yacht."

"Who did the repairs?"

"They were done in Hobie's boatyard."

"Drydock or in orbit?"

"SaJir, is there a point to this line of inquiry?" Lord Suqiet asked.

"Yes, sir." Jir turned back to Ibri Adniz. "Drydock or ..."

"May I know it or will it be necessary to fine you for contempt?" Lord Suqiet snapped.

"I wish to form an idea of what transpired before Hypz was murdered," Jir answered blandly. 'Get up on the wrong side of the sleeping stone, dad?' he thought sourly and hoped Suqiet's mood wouldn't wreck his - Jir's - day.

Lord Suqiet eyed him for a moment. "Continue."

"Ibri," Jir resumed. "Were the repairs to your yacht performed in drydock or in orbit?"

"In orbit."

"Were you only in one ship?"

"Yes."

"And that ship was in orbit around Meza 6 at all times?"

"Yes."

"So, you never had a ship on the surface?"

"No, never."

"And your yacht never came into the atmosphere?"

"No, never."

"All right," Jir sighed. "Let us move on to the actual event. Smig, please." Jir waited until the holomodel of Hxrana central square was in place before continuing. "Do you recognize this place?"

"Yes."

"Will you name it, please."

"It was the civic square of Hxrana," Ibri Adniz said. "Hxrana is the capital city of the inhabited land masses of Meza 6."

"Is this where you saw Hypz was murdered?"

"Yes."

"Where in this model did you see him murdered?"

Ibri Adniz took a pointer from Smig and directed it to the balcony of one of the buildings on the west side of the square. "Here."

"And from what direction did you see the blast emanate?"

"From the east," she said. "From here." She pointed to a alley between two buildings.

"And then what happened after Hypz was hit?"

"He fell off the balcony and into the crowd."

"And then?"

"The crowd began to fight and loot."

"Do you remember why Hypz was on the balcony that day?"

"He was delivering an edict. No one allowed on the streets after dark."

"Why?"

"There had been some unrest in the city."

"What kind of unrest?"

"I don't remember."

'Riiiiight, Ibri, can't remember unrest your people stirred up, eh?' Jir thought. "Did the edict have anything to do with Captain Talljet or his boatyard there or with offworlders in general?"

"I'm sorry but I don't remember."

"Well, then," Jir said, "let us move on to something you can remember." He stepped around the table and into the holomodel. A fuzzy white aura surrounded where the holos overlapped. "You say you saw Hypz fall into the crowd and it began to fight and loot, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And the momentum of the crowd, now a mob, became riots that lasted for several weeks, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you know why Hypz would deliver a controversial edict without enough militia to quell an incipient riot?"

"Objection. The witness is not here to speculate on the victim's actions." Lapham wondered where all this was going.

"Sustained. Rephrase your question, SaJir." Lord Suqiet had an idea where it was going and didn't care for it.

"Did you see any militia or riot police in the square when Hypz made his announcement?"

"No."

"Did you notice any person or persons attempting to quell the escalating riot?"

"No."

"Didn't you think it was odd of Hypz to deliver an unpopular edict without any protection?"

"Objection. The witness is asked to speculate again," Lapham said.

"Sustained. Stick to the facts, SaJir." Lord Suqiet would have like to have heard her answer but he was obliged to side with the prosecution.

"Yes, sir," Jir said blandly. "Did you notice any land or air vehicles attempting to quell the riots?"

"No."

"Your 'yacht' did not come into the atmosphere to discharge four hundred or so fighters to take over the city of Hxrana?"

"No."

"Is that because they were already in the crowd, whipping it into a frenzy?"

"No, it is not."

"Objection. The witness is not on trial," Lapham said, rather wishing she were.

"Sustained. SaJir, make your point." Lord Suqiet growled.

"Yes, sir." Jir nodded and turned back to Ibri Adniz. "Another question." He returned to Hobie's side. "You said in your statement that it was in Hobie's best interest for Hypz to die. Why was that?"

"Hypz wanted all offworlders off Meza 6 and Hobie had a lot to lose by moving his operation."

"What operation?"

"He had a very busy shipbuilding operation there."

"More than a boatyard?"

"A bit more."

"And why did Hypz want him gone?"

"Hypz was afraid the Federation was going to take over the planet."

"'Take over the planet'?"

"Yes."

"Was Hypz in negotiation with the Federation for membership?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"Did Hypz want the Federation on Meza 6?"

"No. It was the last thing he wanted."

"Why?"

"It was a threat to his power."

"Perhaps. But you've just said he wanted Captain Talljet off the planet so the Federation would not take it over or is it the other way around?"

Ibri Adniz was silent for a moment.

"Answer the question," Lord Suqiet said to her.

"I don't understand it."

"Rephrase it, SaJir," Lord Suqiet said. "And be more concise."

"Yes, sir. In your opinion, why did Hypz want Captain Talljet off Meza 6?"

"Hypz was afraid of retaliation from the Federation if they found Hobie and his operation on Meza 6."

"Was Hypz in contact with the Federation for membership?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"He would never give up his power there."

"Then why was he concerned that the Federation would retaliate if they found Captain Talljet and his boatyard there?"

"Hypz was afraid the system was about to be invaded."

"By whom?"

"By the Federation."

"Not by pirates, but by the Federation?"

"Yes."

"So, in your opinion, what was Captain Talljet's alleged motive for allegedly murdering Hypz?"

"To be able to remain on Meza 6."

"But if the Federation came to Meza 6, how ever they came there, Captain Talljet would have had to leave because he was wanted by the Federation Police. Was it not in his best interest to have Hypz in place, keeping the Federation off Meza 6?"

"Objection. This is speculation." Lapham was seeing huge cracks appearing in his witness’s credibility.

"Overruled. It is valuable speculation," Lord Suqiet said flatly. "Answer the question."

"I don't know what the now dead were thinking just then," Ibri Adniz snarled at Jir.

"Who benefited the most from Hypz's death and the ensuing system-wide chaos?" Jir asked her.

"Hobie Talljet."

"Hardly. He lost his yard, a dozen ships and a lot of friends there. I say it was you, Ibri, who gained the most there."

"Objection. The witness is not on trial," Lapham said.

"Sustained. SaJir, a witness cannot respond to statements or accusations. Ask your questions and get on with it," Lord Suqiet snarled.

"Did you reap financial gain from the unrest in the Miska system after Hypz's murder?"

"No," she lied with cool and convincing confidence.

Jir had her account balance histories from the House of Zqia on Xo-brnia 4 in the Xochian Autonomous Zone, bankers to all the major pirates of non-aligned space. However, this information was deemed inadmissible. It didn't really matter - it was common knowledge that Ibri Adniz had raped the Miska system for as long as she could.

"I have no further questions." Jir sat down.

"The witness," Lord Suqiet said as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Is dismissed."

Ibri Adniz was gone from Vulcan twenty minutes later.

* * *

"Why are there no pictures of me in this sale?" Farro asked in his usual direct and charmless fashion.

Maja looked up at him. "We could not bear to part with any."

"HA!" Farro postulated. "There aren't any to part with! This is the problem with being the youngest. You were out of paint by the time I came along."

"Nonsense, Farro." Maja pointed at the viewer. "Look here you are as a baby, and here again under your tree, and here again last year and here drawing Tien." Maja patted his arm. "Now, shut up; I love you as much as your brothers."

"Then why aren't there more pictures of me?"

"I do not know. It's an outrage that shall be remedied in the future through more thorough recordkeeping. No pictures of your brothers will be painted until the balance of JetCheqs is even. Okay?"

"Okay," Farro agreed sulkily. "Why are you people selling my tree?"

"This is not your tree, Farro," Maja told him. "This is a painting of your tree. Don't confuse the map with the terrain."

"All right," Farro said. "Why are you selling this painting of my tree?"

"We need the money."

"Oh. Do you want me to go get a job?"

"Doing what?"

"Sweeping the streets or something."

"No, dear, that will not be necessary."

"Don't call me dear."

"Yes, Farro Gozshedrefreingin baMajaKhat."

* * *

'2. Sleeping youth (Hraja Gozshedrefreingin baMajaKhat) (Oil on canvas) 2.5M X 5M'

General KmordriYhet looked up from his viewer and turned to his aide. "Make sure the auction is relayed to me on my ship. I will be en route to Vulcan to confer with our ambassador there."

* * *

'2. Gozine the Confessor (Oil on canvas) 3M X 4.5M'

"Such precious work should not be allowed out of the Church's hands," the Hierophant Kroldt, rising majestically, intoned to his escort. "If I cannot retrieve the work at least let me retrieve the subject. Inform our embassy on Vulcan that I intend to confess their chaplain and send for my ships. Have Admiral KzostGhet and his people join us. I understand he has some influence with Master Ghet."

* * *

'2. Portrait of Tien Gozshedrefreingin baMajaKhat. (Oil on canvas) 2.75M X 5M'

"Who does Tien remind you of?" Kirk asked lazily.

"Spock," McCoy answered, scrolling down the catalogue. "But all vulcanoids remind me a little of Spock."

"They do, don't they?"

"Uh huh."

Kirk sat up in bed to kiss McCoy's shoulder. "I enjoyed myself last night."

"So did I." McCoy said. "I missed Spock while he was gone."

"Yes. Me, too." Kirk looked out at the view of mountains.

Due to Maja's nocturnal presence in Spock's family home, Sarek had offered the humans use of his villa in the mountains. He had offered them the apartment he still kept on the Strand but they chose the peace and solitude of the mountains.

Kirk ran his fingers over the doctor's nipple until it hardened for him.

"We should get up, Jim."

"In a little while," Kirk said, pulling the unresisting McCoy down next to him.

* * *

"Before you call your next witness, Commander Lapham," Lord Suqiet said without preamble, "there is the matter of the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry's reluctance to release certain records and allow Sarek to testify in this case. I wish to inform you in advance that if the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry remains recalcitrant, my fellow judges and I will give serious thought to a mistrial or outright dismissal of the charges related to that evidence."

"Yes, sir." Lapham wondered how much of a horror trying to put this together after a mistrial would be and decided to worry about it later. In the meantime, he would ask the Admiralty to use its influence with the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry. "Prosecution calls Commander Jaroslav Tikel."

A tall lithe Star Fleet officer was ushered in and informed of the Federation's law regarding perjury.

"Commander Tikel," Lapham said. "Will you please tell the Court how you came to be on Captain Talljet's ship."

Tikel had been coached so he replied very simply that they were en route to Dhrgestera, where they could arrange transport to a Federation port.

"And when did Captain Talljet rape you?"

"As I have explained before, he never raped me."

"Your report to Star Fleet has you as a prisoner aboard his ship. Is that correct?"

"Yes, but..."

"Therefore, any sexual contact with the crew, including Talljet, would be coerced."

"No."

Lapham paused, he had really hoped Tikel would just answer the questions the way they'd been rehearsed. Evidently not. "Are you now saying the Star Fleet report is incorrect?"

"Yes."

Lapham gave up. "Your Honor, I believe this witness had changed his story and I ask that he and his testimony be dismissed."

"We shall take that under consideration." Lord Suqiet said. "Are you finished?"

"Yes, sir."

"Defense." Lord Suqiet looked at Jir, who rose.

"Commander Tikel," Jir said, unnecessarily looking at his yellow data padd. "You were a lieutenant on the USS Internationale when she was taken by pirates in the neutral zone. Is that correct?"

"Yes." A shadow crossed Tikel's face.

"Will you please tell the Court as briefly as possible what transpired between the pirate attack and arriving on Dhrgestera?"

"Objection. This is immaterial to the matter at hand," Lapham said.

"Let us see if it is, counsel." Lord Suqiet was interested in the story. "If so, it will be dismissed along with the witness. Please proceed, Commander Tikel."

Tikel drew a breath and told his story: "The Internationale was boarded and the pirates separated us by age. We were taken aboard their ship. Some of us were raped, some did not survive. That is in my Star Fleet report so I will not go into it here.

"We were taken to a planet that I later learned was Uyrt in the Xochian Autonomous Zone. We were sold in the slave market there. I was sold in a group to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune, they were looking for Standard speakers to help them learn it. Ensign Grushinkev was sold to someone else but Master Ghet asked me why I was staring at him and I said he was a shipmate and I would like him to stay with us. I don't know what Master Ghet did, but he went over and talked to the slave buyer and came back with Dmitri a little while later. We left in the Commune's ship and went to Zatichket, where they were working on a cathedral, a garrison and the Tossarian Gates.

"We lived with the Commune for almost a year, that was the agreement: we would teach them Standard for a year and they would let us go, and at the end of that time we boarded Captain Talljet's ship - the Zoltir.

"What happened en route to Dhrgestera between Captain Talljet and myself was completely voluntary on my part. We arrived on Dhrgestera and were put on a commercial ship into the Federation. And that was that." Tikel looked calmly at Jir, whom he'd never met before, because it was too emotional for him to look at Hobie. Hobie had finished what the Commune started; he brought him back to life.

'So much useless suffering in this life,' Jir thought sadly, reading Tikel's sorrow even at this distance. "I have no further questions but reserve the right to recall this witness." He sat and bumped his knee against Hobie's, it was the most affection he could show at the moment.

"The witness is dismissed," Lord Suqiet said and waited until Tikel was out of the room before he continued: "I'm going to let this testimony and witness stand for now, Commander Lapham. I hope your next witness is more prepared to agree with your case. Call Ensign Dmitri Grushinkev."

'DmitriFara. So young, so lovely. What lengths Maja went to rescue you from the brothel you were bound for. And you shall never know, child,' Jir thought, seeing for the first time the beauty he'd been told about, many years before.

"In your Star Fleet report," Lapham began carefully. "You state that you slept with Captain Talljet en route to Dhrgestera. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"How old were you at the time?"

"I was sixteen."

"What were you doing on the Internationale when she was attacked?"

"I was traveling from boarding school with my cousin, Lt. Xeshirev, who was on the Internationale. I was to meet my parents at Star Base 53 and then go to the new settlement on Cinta 3. No one expected the attack." Grushinkev did not add that he never saw his cousin or the majority of the crew again.

"What happened on Captain Talljet's ship en route to Dhrgestera?"

"Nothing."

"Let me rephrase. Did you sleep in Captain Talljet's bed?"

"Yes. Once."

"And you were fifteen?"

"I was sixteen by then."

"And what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Did he touch you?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"I slept in his arms, that's all." Grushinkev looked calmly at Hobie. "Just slept."

"Were you raped?"

"No."

"You were very young, were you coerced?"

"No."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I was raped by the pirates and nobody ..." Grushinkev paused to get his breathing under control. "Nothing like that happened on Hobie's ship. Neither there nor in the Commune." He looked Lapham right in the eye. "So I can speak as something of an expert," he said slowly.

"No further questions." Lapham sat.

"Defense," Lord Suqiet said.

"I have no questions at this time but reserve the right to recall this witness at a later time," Jir said quickly. The Commune had requested that Tikel and Grushinkev somehow be delayed on Vulcan so the Terrans could visit them. Grushinkev, Tien and Kalzat had become fast friends during that year and Tikel was extremely well thought of there, so the Commune was eager to spend some time with them.

"The witness is dismissed," Lord Suqiet said. "Remove the prisoner." He waited until Hobie was out of the room before turning on the attorneys. "This trial has become a mockery. Thus far the Prosecution has presented two dubious witnesses, another that might have committed the crime herself and now we are presented with two 'victims' who have stated under oath that they were never victimized by the accused. Unless you have a compelling closing argument, Commander Lapham, the only charge I'm willing to consider is statutory rape in the matter of Ensign Grushinkev and then not very seriously as he stated 'nothing happened' and I am inclined to believe him." Lord Suqiet noticed Lapham wince. "Speak!"

"We believe it is possible that Captain Talljet tampered with both Commander Tikel and Ensign Grushinkev's memories of the incident," Lapham said.

"Entirely possible and entirely impossible to prove without witnesses that can keep their stories straight," Lord Suqiet snarled. Obviously the Terrans were still suspicious about telepaths and they had good reason to be. Not all telepaths in the galaxy were as circumspect as the Vulcans. "I will recess for two days before we start to hear your piracy charges. By that time I expect the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry will have made a decision regarding Lord Sarek. Yes, SaJir?"

"I request bail for my client."

"Denied."

"My client has children and other family responsibilities. We can post a bond ..."

"SaJir," Lord Suqiet said in his voice-of-god voice. "There are over a thousand of Captain Talljet's people camped in and around Shirkar. There are close to a thousand Star Fleet personnel here to monitor their behavior. There have already been altercations between the two groups. Releasing Captain Talljet into this volatile situation strikes me as unwise."

"Then I wish to lodge my complaint about the two day recess and move that the charges be dropped. You can rule on the murder and rape charges right now. I have no witnesses to call in them," Jir said firmly.

"Refused."

"I move to cite the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry for obstruction of justice."

"I cited them this morning, SaJir. I gave them two days to make their decision before I dismissed the charges against Captain Talljet and brought the matter before the High Council." He cut Jir off with a warning finger. "But no bail for the accused. He will survive another week in the prison."

Jir and Storen exchanged looks. Jir dropped his eyes.

"Your Honor," Storen said rising at Lord Suqiet's nod. "The Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry claims that we have no conclusive proof that Lord Sarek was in contact with Captain Talljet during the period of time he is to be questioned about." Storen picked up a data chip from the stack before him. "We have what we consider suitable proof that they were in contact at least once during that time." He handed it to Smig, who approached the bench.

"Is this four more conflicting Mseian police reports that place Captain Talljet and Lord Sarek in various locations on Mse?"

"No, sir." Storen and Jir watched Lord Suqiet take the chip. "It is a DNA report indicating that Lord Sarek fathered Captain Talljet's eldest son, Polmira, in the time frame about which we seek his tesimony."

* * *

"I didn't realize I was on your turf, Nolo." Maja said to Hobie later that afternoon with more bravado than he felt. 'However could you have left him?' he wondered just below the surface.

"It's all right, Maja. He never loved me." Hobie watched Maja slump in shame for having succeeded where his eldest brother had failed. "I might've had some fun and a few nice things but, as you can see, there really wasn't enough to hold me. Besides, you and getting away from Vulcan were more important to me than Sarek at just that moment." Hobie told him firmly. "Never mind. It's a long story, Noli." He had no time today for Maja-tude or misplaced sentiment. "I need you ..."

"... to tell Polmira that Tossar was not his father and therefore Lyra and Bot are not his brothers," Maja finished, resignedly. "That actually Sarek is his father and Spock, o' horror, is his brother. What a delightful chore, Nolo, why me?"

"You're good at delivering bad news."

"Oh, thanks."

"It's part of your life in religion to talk to beings in difficulty."

"I talk to Klingons with guilty consciences."

"You know what I mean. Also, you love Sarek, so you'll present him in a more positive light than Jir would."

"Well, that's true. What about Ling?"

"Maja, let's just let Ling and Stez have their first baby in peace, okay? The way things are going, that child is going to have a womb received phobia of currency markets." Hobie smiled sadly.

"Oh, Hobie," Maja melted. "I'll tell Polmira so he'll understand. He might be relieved, he was wondering the other day why he was so happy here. Now I can tell him he's not happy, just logical. Don't worry. Everything's going to be ... be aligned with god's will. I feel it."

"I feel it, too, Noli. It's just that getting there might be a bumpy ride."

* * *

'Defending my son?'

Waiting to testify in Hobie Talljet's piracy trial, Sarek had the leisure to review the events that brought him to the witness waiting room of Shirkar Federation Court #3.

* * *

"This Maja Talljet was suspended from school for defending my son and now neither he nor his brothers will return to school," Sarek had restated to SiVrisa, an administrator from the Preparatory Institute, seated across from him in his modest office at the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry.

"Yes, and the Sas are not exhibiting any interest in or intention of returning them to school," SiVrisa said. "I know that you studied Klingonese with SerNera for a time and I hope you might have some influence with them."

"If you are concerned about the children's welfare, perhaps this is more a matter for the Federation child protection authorities than for me," Sarek said.

"I wish to avoid their involvement, Lord Sarek. My cousin, SiJidi, tells me SaGolia and T'Prol took some trouble to place these children where they are. It would be a shame for the Federation social services to take them away. Perhaps worse than a shame considering the exceptional telepathic and empathic gifts they possess." SiVrisa explained to Sarek that the Talljets were in the Sa mansion so SaBrzia and his linguist students, SiJidi, SaCriz, Sriri, SoLri, SerNera, Spaga, Smvit, SiRond, and in those days, SaBrzia's fellow linguists: SaTinn, Sonza, and SaXri before they died, could decode the Magidrian Patois. SiVrisa omitted that SiJidi had told him the Talljets had studied Vulcan en route to Vulcan and that they did not speak anything comprehensible when they did use a language other than Vulcan or Klingonese; that when they did speak in Patois, it was a pure telepathic form and all the listener heard was an inflected but indecipherable keening. Nevertheless, SiJidi and SiRond were concerned that the Talljets should return to school and blend into Vulcan life as much as possible. They were challenging but good children overall. An institution or separation from each other would be a disaster for such sensitive beings. Only Hobie and Jir seemed to realize that the Sas were their last chance before the void of the unknown and they were doing their best to keep Maja and Ling in line. SiJidi suggested Sarek use his influence with SerNera, who would influence the rest of the Sas. Hence SiVrisa's errand to the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry. "I was also very impressed with the intelligence Hobie and Jir displayed in their classes at Preparatory Institute. I would be sorry to lose such talented students over a misunderstanding involving your son, Lord Sarek," SiVrisa concluded.

Sarek rang for a messenger and reached for a sheet of opaque flimsy and a stylo, thinking that he was about to involve himself in a matter provoked by his son that his son had not even bothered to tell him about. He penned a careful note in Klingonese to SerNera requesting admittance to the Sa mansion after dinner that evening. He handed it to the messenger, who knew exactly where the Sa mansion was, and told him to wait on a reply, if possible. In those days, the Sa mansion had no comm units, so the only way to contact them was in writing, by messenger. It was considered quaint and a certain chic was associated with needing to send a note to the Sa mansion. There was a legend that Sarek's great great great great grandfather had kept a messenger service in business with notes and gifts to SaKoza over the years of their association.

Sarek promised SiVrisa he would do what he could to have the Talljets returned peacefully to school and saw him out. He noted that SiVrisa had not really changed much since Sarek was at W. Vul. Prep. many years ago. He turned back to his work after a brief and efficient moment contemplating what a lot of trouble his half breed son was turning out to be and relief that the sand eating incident had not reached his wife. SiVrisa told him that SaGolia herself had had strong words with Smitok's mother and clan matriarch in defense of Spock. Sarek found that distasteful - he would prefer to defend Spock himself, or have T'Pau do it, if he felt Spock needed defending. He did not feel this incident warranted such measures and hoped to convey this to the Sas that evening.

A short while later his note was returned with corrections and suggestions to improve the grammar and an assurance scribbled in the margin that he would be most welcome after sunset and where had he been all this time?

Sarek found himself in mildly pleasant anticipation the rest of the afternoon. He had always enjoyed the eccentric Sas. When he thought back on it, later, after, he realized that perhaps it was more than pleasant anticipation of seeing an old tutor. Perhaps it was the foreknowledge that something so incredible was about to happen that it would etch its own design on his soul.

* * *

"Who are the Sas?" Amanda had asked over dinner that night.

"An ancient and eccentric clan," Sarek had answered. "You have met SaGolia; she will be their next matriarch if T'Prol ever dies."

"Oh." Amanda had found SaGolia a refreshing change of pace after all the staid Vulcan matrons she'd been exposed to in her first years on Vulcan. A celebrated linguistic anthropologist at the Vulcan Institute, she was dashing and fascinating and seemed to be very interested in everything Amanda had to say. It was later that T'Pau had explained to Amanda that SaGolia was a lesbian and probably was very interested in everything Amanda had to say and more. T'Pau had discouraged Amanda from associating with SaGolia because SaGolia didn't bother having female friends, only lovers. These were the early days of Amanda's residence on Vulcan and her reputation was too fragile to withstand gossip about her and SaGolia. T'Pau was right, as usual, several years later there was quite a scandal about SaGolia's seduction of and liaison with Princess T'Pria. T'Pria's bondmate's family had broken off the bond over it and T'Pria had moved in with SaGolia for a few years. Eventually T'Pria left Vulcan and was not heard of again outside her family, which chose not to discuss her very much or very often. "Will SaGolia be there tonight?" Amanda asked.

"I doubt it, wife, SaGolia avoids SaBrzia."

"Why?"

"Professional rivalry." Due to Spock's presence, Sarek omitted that SaBrzia had called SaGolia a wanton madcap talentless dilettante who would be nothing without his training and would not have her postition at the Vulcan Institute had he, SaBrzia, not chosen to remain blind. Possibly this was true, SaBrzia had been the head of Linguistics there until he went blind but it entirely overlooked the fact that SaGolia was one of the most brilliant scholars of her generation. Eccentric like all her clan, but brilliant nonetheless.

She was not alone in her eccentricity. SaBrzia's decision not to correct his deteriorating vision was considered an incomprehensible tragedy among the new families. SaBrzia's only explanation in his resignation was that he had seen as much of this life as he wanted and preferred to listen to it for what was left of the rest of his existence. More than fifty years ago he retired into the old Sa mansion with a group of his fellow linguists and students, among them SiJidi who was rumored to be his lover, and was not seen again. For a time, various members of the household taught in certain schools: Sonza and SaXri had retained their xenolinguistic posts at the Vulcan Institute. SaCriz and SoLri taught Standard at W. Vul. Prep. Spaga and Smvit had taught Vulcan grammar and composition at Shirkar Middle School #7. SerNera and Smvit were Klingonese tutors for the diplomatic section of the Vulcan Institute. SaTinn, SiRond and SiJidi had withdrawn completely from society into the hermitic but scholarly structure of the SaBrzia dominated Sa mansion where they explored the more esoteric aspects of communication and made a little money with translations and the occasional review or monograph. Eventually the other denizens of the Sa mansion followed their example and withdrew from the Shirkar educational milieu. It was a tremendous loss for those institutions and their students. Sarek was one of the last of a generation that studied Vulcan grammar with Spaga and wrote that language with an elegance that is now nearly impossible to attain. (The Talljets, especially Ling, wrote beautifully in Vulcan but they, in addition to being quick studies, had the benefit of instruction from the Sas. Their little essays were read aloud to SaBrzia for his critique as well. Maja was always the weakest student but he could have cared less as long as he could draw and paint and waste time with Spock.) Sarek had been one of the students in SaCriz's final Standard class at W. Vul. Prep. His Standard was as much admired for its beautiful cadences as for its flawless structure. This was more due to SaCriz's instruction than Sarek's years on Terra and his Terran wife. He had also benefited immeasurably from SerNera's tutelage in Klingonese and because SerNera liked him, the tutor had continued to teach him privately until Sarek was assigned to the Vulcan Mission on Terra. Sarek's one letter had been answered with a terse note from SerNera stating that he never corresponded, ever, and hoped all was well with him. That was the last contact they had had until today.

So Sarek felt something very like excitement as he pushed open the garden gate and made his way to the kitchen door that evening. He knocked gently to get the attention of the elderly Vulcan, Sonza, washing up at the sink.

"Ah, there you are, Sarek." Sonza said, drying his hands. "SerNera said you were coming to visit tonight. Welcome." The old man, he had been one of SaBrzia's teachers so he was truly old, waved Sarek into the big room where SerNera and a younger crowd awaited him.

"What do you want, Sarek?" SerNera greeted him in Klingonese with the closest that language had to an expression of welcome. "How old you look now. I understand your life has changed, that you have a new wife and baby."

"Is that so, child?" Spaga asked from his seat by the fire.

"Indeed," Sarek answered, not taking a seat because he was not offered one. "But I have had them for over ten years now so they are not very new anymore."

"Ah," SerNera said, losing interest in the subject. "Before you sit down, why don't you go pick something from the cellar for us to sip on while we talk."

"It would be a great pleasure, SerNera," Sarek assured him. He was sincere: the Sas' wine cellar was of legendary proportion and quality and much of it provided by his great great great great grandfather for SaKoza's refined consumption. In the old days, it was considered rude to give less than a case of anything to your 'protege' and Sarek's great great great great grandfather had a generous nature anyway. So the wine cellar was full of good things and it had always been SerNera's practice to send Sarek down there for a bottle of something good for them to sip on during his lesson. It was one of the things Sarek had enjoyed about those lessons. "What shall we ha..." Sarek trailed off, catching sight of Jir, in nothing but a loin cloth, descending the staircase. "...ve?"

"A brandy. There's quite a bit of good brandy down there somewheres, try to find it." SerNera glanced up at Jir. "Aren't you cold, Jir?" he asked him.

"No," Jir answered.

"Then go help Sarek find some brandy."

Sarek tried not to stare when Jir turned his attention to him but it was impossible: Jir was the most beautiful male he'd ever seen in his life. Luminous brown eyes set in an angular pure white face with high Magidrian cheekbones and full lips. He seemed to have been designed to catch light and move though space with the fluid and elegant economy of a bird of prey. There was, however, something cold and distant about the youth, as if one would want to wear a warm coat to embrace him. Sarek was surprised by his own train of thought and removed his contemplation to the impending selection of wine.

Jir met his gaze for a few moments, assessing him, attempting to read him. "This way." He turned and started for the door under the stairs.

"JIR!" SaBrzia bellowed from his office upstairs.

Jir glanced heavenward and then at SerNera.

"You'd better go," SerNera told him. "Send Hobie down."

"Sorry," Jir murmured as he departed.

"SerNera, I am certain I will not need assistance," Sarek protested.

"Oh, but you do," SerNera replied. "I can't even remember where I saw the brandy last time I was down there, well before you started studying with me. I think over there somewhere." He gestured vaguely at the far end of the room. The wine cellar ran the width of the house.

Sarek heard a step behind him and turned to find the impossible descending the stair: a youth even more beautiful than Jir. Or perhaps simply more to Sarek's taste than Jir. Hobie possessed brown eyes as large and luminous as Jir's, however, his eyes were warmer and radiated light, whereas Jir's eyes reflected it. His face was rounder than Jir's, the same Magidrian high cheekbones but less full lips. He had a stronger jaw which gave the impression of a more masculine temperament. His ivory skin glowed in the low light as if he were lit from within. He was wearing black leggings and a tunic so his hands and face were nicely set off by his dark clothes and ebony curls, which he wore loosely tied back with a black ribbon. He held Sarek's eye as he descended the stair with a grace that bordered on poetry. Or was poetry; Hobie moved as if every action were the realization of a heartfelt desire.

Sarek found himself comparing Hobie to representations of pre-reform beauties he'd seen in museums. Hobie possessed the same serenity, poise and graceful mien of those men and women of olden times. As a child, before such interests were crushed in him by the matriarchy and the House of Surak, Sarek had been fascinated by pre-reform life, the drama, the chivalry, the romance of it, and now he found before him what appeared to be its incarnation. 'Impossible.' He scolded himself. 'This youth is not even a Vulcan.'

The youth kept his classical features bland but for a wary flicker of interest in Sarek. He turned to SerNera: "You sent for me." It was a statement; very simple, very direct. Sarek found the timbre of his voice like the amber glow in a snifter of fine cognac: dark, velvety and warm.

"Yes, yes. Help Sarek find some good brandy downstairs, will you, Hobie?"

Hobie nodded and caught Sarek's eye before turning to the door under the stair.

Hobie switched on a lantern and they descended into the cellar's blackness.

"SerNera says you talk Klingon," Hobie stated in that language as he led Sarek down the stairs.

"A little," Sarek told him.

"Where did you learn?"

"At school."

"Here? In Shirkar?"

"Yes. Where did you learn it?"

"In the streets." Hobie was looking at labels on bottles.

Sarek was looking at him. "What else did you learn there?" The Vulcan could hardly believe he'd said it.

Hobie turned and looked at him quite seriously. Then he laughed in Sarek's face.

Sarek decided to brazen it out. "I meant what other languages did you learn there? On Magidrian?"

"I know what you meant, Sarekanas." Hobie added the Klingon honorific with a snarl.

"Then tell me."

"I learned how to keep the Klingons off me and my brothers." Hobie turned his attention back to the rows of bottles. "I'm still trying to figure out you non-Roms."

"Non-Roms?"

"You people look like Roms but call yourselves Vulcans." Hobie held a bottle up to the light. "So far, I haven't seen much difference except the name."

"Are you mad, child?" Sarek asked. "The differences between the two species are vast and striking."

Hobie had a moment of uncertainty. He was not finding his experience of the Sa mansion very different from the Talljet monastery, both were full of eccentric and kindly old men, but he was unsure how to explain this to Sarek in any language. "You would not understand," he sighed and looked away.

"I would like to try to understand you, Hobie," Sarek said and was surprised to hear the caress in his own voice. In the low lantern light, Hobie looked to Sarek even more as if he were lit from within.

Hobie looked up him, unsmiling, wary, but not his usual closed and forbidding demeanor.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light but Sarek thought he saw something soften, beckon, in Hobie's eyes and it drew him closer to the silent, still youth.

"Shiiiow, Nolo," Maja breathed from the cellar stairs. The sound had no meaning, it was merely to get his brother's attention.

Sarek started, he had not noticed Maja's approach. He wondered if this was the odd keening SiVrisa had mentioned.

"Shhhhhhhiiiiii, Noli, shiii." Hobie answered, again a meaningless sound, merely an acknowledgment.

"Sarekanasa ChequSpocka. (Spock's father, lit. the Sarek half of Spock)." Maja jerked his chin at Sarek.

"VulChequ SpockDeVulCheq. (The Vulcan half of Spock the half Vulcan.)" Hobie turned to Sarek with new interest. "You should teach your ..." Hobie didn't have the word for son in his Klingon vocabulary. "... your boy to fight, old man."

"Shiiiiowca sait, NoliHobie, sait siiiiiiow. (Not so old, NoliHobie, not so old.)" Maja keened.

Sarek felt a chill run up his spine, the weird keening, the darkness, the strangeness of these children were getting on his nerves but he refused to succumb to it. "And do you speak street Klingonese as well?"

"Oh, no sir!" Maja assured him in his rough Klingonese. "I speak the barracks version of it." This was true, Khatanya was responsible for the more colorful aspects of Maja's Klingon. Kzost had tried valiantly to correct it, alas, in vain. Maja could swear like an Imperial Trooper from dawn till dusk.

"Excuse me," SiRond asked in Vulcan from the top of the stairs. "But are you finding the wine all right? You've been down here quite some time. Bring two bottles while you're about it."

"The same or different?" Sarek asked, reassured to be in his own language again.

"Different." SiRond withdrew.

Hobie and Maja prowled around and eventually turned up four dusty bottles from which Sarek selected two.

"Hemzjit, Nolo, Hemzjit, ChequSpocka. (Let's go, elder brother, let's go Spock's father.)" Maja led them out of the cellar and back up to the main room.

Jir and Ling sat studying with SiRond and Spaga on one of the couches. SerNera had set out brandy snifters and bottles of mineral water. He heartily approved of Sarek's choice of wine. "Worth the wait, eh?"

"Indeed," Sarek murmured neutrally as he surveyed the domestic scene before him.

Hobie and Maja joined their brothers. The resemblance between Maja and Ling was quite pronounced when they were younger but they all resembled one another with their long ebony Mage curls, high cheekbones and long jawlines. Spaga was drilling them in Vulcan grammar and Sarek noted that they were doing quite well.

"So," SerNera asked when they had settled with their glasses. "Why have you come to see me, Sarek?"

"Now that I live in Shirkar again, I would like to work on my Klingonese with you," Sarek said, realizing it was true.

"What good timing," SerNera told him. "Now that we have such fine Klingon speakers here with us. Almost native speakers, you know." He looked up at the Talljets. "Isn't that so, boys?"

"Most assuredly," Ling piped up.

"You flatter us," Jir murmured demurely.

"I do hope we won't embarrass your confidence in us, SerNera-anas," Hobie offered with modestly lowered eyes.

"It will be a great pleasure to converse with Spock's father-anas as often as he will allow us," Maja avowed.

And it was all in the fine and courtly Klingonese they'd absorbed from Kzost's valet in the time they spent in the governor's mansion on Magidrian.

"How fortunate I am," Sarek said deadpan, but he managed to enjoy the amused glance Hobie shot at him from under his lowered jet lashes.

"'Spock's father-anas'?" SiRond asked. "Wasn't Spock the name of the boy you got in trouble over, Talljets?"

"Yes," Hobie answered.

Jir and Ling looked at Sarek with new interest.

"How d'you know this is Spock's father, Maja?" Spaga asked.

"SaGolia told me the other day. She said Sarek's grabbed himself a world of trouble with his Terran wife and half breed son," Maja said simply. "He's got the same name," Maja tilted his chin at Sarek. "And he looks like Spock."

"Rather, Spock looks like him," SerNera corrected.

"Raaaather, how I said," Maja told him. "I saw Spock first."

"Logical," SiRond said sourly.

A moment of silence ensured while the Sas waited to see if Sarek would rise up and defend logic. He did not.

"Why didn't ya bring him?" Maja asked, slipping back into his rough Klingon.

"Maja! Please!" SerNera chided.

"Bring whom, Maja?" Sarek asked.

"Sorry," Maja said to SerNera and turned to Sarek: "Why did you not bring your son, Spock?"

"I thought perhaps you would see him at school." Sarek said smoothly. "I understand you are in the same class there."

"Due to certain cultural misunderstandings, we have decided to educate the Talljets at home," Spaga informed him.

"Oh. I am certain it is the right thing for them. It must be very difficult for them to blend in with the other children," Sarek said blandly. "Was the course work too difficult for them?"

"Certainly not," Spaga said shortly. "There was an incident involving your son and ..."

"Yes, I know," Sarek cut in before Spaga could get worked up. "I understood Maja was suspended for one day, not expelled with his brothers."

"Maja was discriminated against and his brothers joined him in protest," Spaga said.

"Maja is an offworlder and perhaps not aware of the Vulcan code of non-violence." Sarek said. "Had the incident happened to one of the Talljets, would you not have wanted the offender punished?"

"Of course," Spaga said.

"And now that the incident is over and done with, would the children not like to return to school?" Sarek asked, wondering if they would not, in fact, receive a superior education in the Sa mansion along with a highly skewed view of Vulcan life.

"Well?" Spaga asked the Talljets.

"It was rather interesting there," Jir ventured mildly.

"Yes, new place, new faces, people our age," Hobie said in support.

"There are a few good teachers left at the Middle School, Spaga," SiRond said. "Did you like your class there, Ling?"

"Yes, very much," Ling nodded.

Spaga looked hard at Maja, looking innocently at him. "Can you stay away from trouble there, Maja?"

"If trouble stays away from me."

The wave of disappointment that went through the other Talljets was almost palpable. "Yes," Maja caved in. "Yes, of course."

Sarek sipped his brandy and spent the ensuing hour in Klingon conversation with SerNera, the Talljets and even Smvit came down to join them. At the end of the evening, SerNera and Sarek settled on a fee and arranged for Sarek to return a week hence. Maja walked Sarek to his car.

"Maja," Sarek said when they were outside. "You need not defend my son at school." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Jir watching them.

"It seemed necessary," Maja said sincerely.

"My son is a Vulcan, these are his people, he must learn to live with them," Sarek said firmly.

"Even if they are cruel to him?"

Sarek looked down and saw Maja suffering for Spock. He recognized it because it was how Amanda looked when she suffered for Spock. "My son was misguided in his actions. He has nothing to prove to anyone."

"No, Sarekanas. He must prove he is twice the Vulcan they are because he is only half Vulcan," Maja said sadly. "Can't he simply be Spock?" Maja groped to make himself understood. He lowered his eyes in shame that he did not have the words to explain to Spock's father how special Spock was.

Sarek refused to understand. "Spock is my son and therefore a Vulcan. He must learn to behave as a Vulcan and a member of his clan." Sarek tilted Maja's chin up to look in his eyes. "Maja, understand me, you will not succeed here if you argue with adults as you are arguing with me. You must learn our ways and one of them is that children do not argue with adults."

"Yes, sir." Maja wondered if he wanted to succeed in a place that could be so cruel to Spock. Even his father was rather cruel. But he didn't want to fight with the Vulcan right then. He felt close to tears anyway when he thought of how Spock had suffered that day. But he was cheered by the fact they would all be going back to school tomorrow.

"Very well." Sarek released the half Mage's pointed chin. "If he is not busy, I will bring Spock on my next visit." He was rewarded with a sunny smile that touched his core. 'I must get away from these empaths,' was his only thought. 'They have the oddest effect on one.'

"Good night, Sarekanas," Maja said softly.

"Good night then, Maja."

* * *

"You've been away for quite a while," Hobie said, leading Sarek, recently returned from Terra, into the wine cellar.

"A year, Hobie," Sarek said. "I understand you've had a run in with Lord Smravit."

Hobie turned at the bottom of the stair and looked up, his face closed and hard. "Smravit had the wrong idea."

"How so?" Sarek asked. He knew the details from Smravit himself but he wanted to hear Hobie's side of it.

"I'm not for sale." Hobie progressed down the aisle, looking for bottles of white burgundy. "You Vulcans have some fancy word for it - what? protege, I think - but we called things by their right name in the Zoltir bazaar on Magidrian."

"Which is?"

"Gyharine." Hobie snarled. "Prostitute. I didn't become one there; I won't become one here."

"That was no one's intention, Hobie....."

"D'you think I don't know, Sarek?" Hobie sighed. "D'you think I don't know lust when I see it? I didn't break his nose to amuse myself, I broke it because he grabbed my ass and wouldn't stop when I said no." He looked at Sarek with eyes older than his seventeen years.

"Your lyre playing is much admired," Sarek said slowly. "It was merely Smravit's intention to have you play for him for a few hours. In return the Sas would have received a very generous fee for the afternoon."

"Well, Lord Sarek," Hobie said formally. "Since I was there and you were not," he paused meaningfully, "I must conclude that based on the evidence that was before my eyes, it was Lord Smravit's intention to fuck me. And, in return the Sas would have received a very generous fee for the afternoon." Hobie held up a bottle to read the label. "That is why the Sas said nothing when I returned well before time and Smravit didn't send along the fee." He looked at Sarek. "They've lost their touch, these Sas. Apparently in your great great great great grandfather's time, they pimped SaKoza from the house instead of sending him out to deliver."

"You're spending too much time with the redshirts in the Port." Sarek was repelled by the street boy he was now seeing in Hobie. Too many refined evenings at the Sas, speaking Klingonese, listening to him play sublimely on the lyre, looking into his eyes ..... It had blinded him to the gutter snipe survivor that Hobie really was.

"They're honest men. They take no for an answer when you say no and no messing about." Hobie handed him a bottle to inspect. "I'll take one of them over a thousand Smravits."

"It is unseemly to spend your time in the shipyards, Hobie. There has been speculation that you are having sex with the redshirts." Sarek handed the bottle back. "Not this one, it is too young."

"Me, or the wine?"

"The wine."

"I want to join Star Fleet and become a redshirt."

"That would be a complete waste of your talents, intelligence and education."

"And becoming a lyre playing gyharine whore for hire is the proper use of them?"

"That, Hobie, is wildly improbable."

"You weren't there."

Hearing the rage and sorrow in Hobie's voice, Sarek paused to allow the youth to recover.

"You can't judge other Vulcans by yourself, Sarek, they're not all like you. Some of them, most of them, are cruel to offworlders, half breeds, anyone who is different. You refuse to see this, even when it hurts ... hurts people you know." Hobie paused to calm down. "Here, it's the same as everywhere, you have to watch your back. Terrible things happen when you don't - to you, to the ones you love - when you think you're safe but you really aren't. The difference is that here you don't see it coming because the man smiles and offers you wine and listens to what you say before he leaps on you. I fought Smravit off because he would have raped me otherwise. And I don't care if you believe me or not."

"If this is true, Hobie, then he should be prosecuted."

"I think he paid the Sas off later. Sonza told me to forget whatever happened. I think Smravit was going to pay all our school fees. The Sas are quite hard up at the moment." Hobie looked up at him. "How did you find out?"

"Sredia heard it from Smravit's houseman. He was concerned that you might have misunderstood."

"If the houseman saw it, then he misunderstood."

"He only saw Smravit's broken nose after you left. I asked Smravit himself about it, he thinks you misunderstood as well."

"But I did not," Hobie said quietly. He looked over the dark cellar, wishing Maja would come down and distract them. But Sarek had brought Spock tonight and Maja had whisked him upstairs to show him a mural he was painting of all their friends at Middle School. Why was life so difficult? Why was there nowhere for him to lay his head and sleep knowing he and his brothers were safe? He swallowed the painful lump in his throat. "Please give Sredia my thanks for his concern."

"I shall." Sarek hoisted a bottle to the light and rejected it as well. "Do you really want to join Star Fleet?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Three reasons: I want to build starships."

"SaCriz tells me you have some talent in engineering design. You could build starships for a Vulcan firm after you attend the Institute," Sarek suggested.

"Why do you want me to stay on Vulcan?"

"I do not if you do not want to. I think you would be wasting yourself in Star Fleet."

"Then you won't like the second reason I want to join."

"Tell me."

"On the journey here, the people most kind to me were the Lexington redshirts. I like redshirts, they're nice honest people, I want to be with them." Hobie handed him a bottle, which was rejected for its immaturity and reshelved.

"And the third reason?"

"To get away from here."

"Why, Hobie? You seemed content here, you succeed in school, I understand you are popular. Has the incident with Smravit so poisoned Vulcan for you that you wish to leave it?"

"No, it's not that. I'm content here because it's safe for my brothers until they're big enough to take care of themselves. But for me - there's nothing here for me. I can't really explain it but I know that if I search hard for it, I'll find what I'm looking for."

"Which is?"

"I don't know but I know it's not here."

"Illogical."

"Yes. Very." Hobie nodded. "These are older." He handed Sarek a bottle, which was accepted. And another, also accepted. Hobie turned to go.

Sarek hesitated. "I brought you something from Terra." He produced a small package from his robe. "It is a jew's harp," he explained as Hobie examined the strange instrument.

"What is jews?"

"Are, Hobie, what *are* jews," Sarek corrected. "They are members of an ancient Terran religion."

"Ah," Hobie said, twanging the harp in his fingers. "Is it a sacred instrument?" He stopped twanging it.

"I think not, Hobie."

"Oh. How's it played?"

"It goes into your mouth."

"Show me." Hobie held the circular object out. Seeing Sarek hesitate, he added: "On me." He added, tilting his head back.

Sarek turned the harp in his hands and leaned forward, gently pushing Hobie's mouth open. In the middle of placing the instrument under the half Mage lips, Sarek realized he'd never touched Hobie before. It was pleasant, the energy just above the Mage dermis was cool with a light vibration, the way the Terran atmosphere feels just before a thunder storm. He let his fingers linger somewhat longer than necessary.

Something in Hobie told him to step back but he did not. Never taking his eyes from Sarek's, he reached up and twanged the harp. Instinctively, he experimented with vocal tone in the buzz. He became quite absorbed in exploring the instrument's possiblities. He wondered how it would feel to have Sarek lean down and just barely touch his lips to his ....

Sarek leaned, drawn inrresistibly, until his mouth was, in fact, just barely touching Hobie's vibrating lips. He moved a fraction to explore a new location and intensity of sensation and vibration. He never took his eyes from Hobie's.

Hobie moved slightly too, just to see what different tones, locations and pressures would produce on the instrument. On him. On Sarek. He shuddered convulsively when Sarek drew his tongue along his lower lip.

Realizing he'd gone too far, the Vulcan straightened and stepped back.

Hobie recovered, played a moment longer and pulled the shiny metal circle out of his mouth. "Thank you," he said simply and led them out of the cellar.

"Trouble finding the wine?" SerNera asked when they emerged.

"Yes. Much of it is too young," Sarek told him, uncorking the bottle and setting it aside to breathe. "It will, however, be a formidable collection of wine in twenty years or so."

"Perhaps you'll still be coming for conversation then, Sarek." He handed Sarek the other bottle. "We'll compare them, shall we? I've promised to send a decanter of the better one up to SaBrzia when we've decided." They talked about Sarek's latest stay on Terra, what the Terrans were doing and 'news' about Vulcans of their mutual acquaintance. Sarek poured two glasses out of each bottle and they drank in silence. Hobie looked on quietly, compressing his lips into a tiny smile remembering, just remembering.

"I believe this is the superior bottle, SerNera." Sarek pointed to the bottle nearest him.

"I am inclined to agree with you," SerNera said, as he hoisted the other bottle and poured half of it into a decanter and handed it to Hobie. "Take this to SaBrzia. If he askes you, say you know nothing about wine, which is true and hurry back." SerNera was surprised to see the usually dour half Mage smile warmly as he set off on his errand. He could not know Hobie was smiling because Sarek would have more of the superior bottle.

SerNera and Sarek drank in peace for a moment, until Sarek judged Hobie was out of earshot and asked his question:

"How much do you need a year for their school fees?"

* * *

"Are you disappointed?" Sarek had asked.

"I am devastated," Hobie said quietly. He looked over the mountains from the balcony of Sarek's villa. He watched the sun dip behind them and listened to the silence. His brothers, Spock and Amanda were in Shirkar. "Why did they send you to tell me?"

"The Terran ambassador was concerned that there might be what he termed 'bad feelings' between our planets if Star Fleet's decision was not properly conveyed."

"Why would there be 'bad feelings' between your planets because Star Fleet refused to have a half caste Mage street boy in it?"

"I do not agree with their decision but I understand why they made it."

"Why? To torture me?"

"No. The administrators at Star Fleet Academy read the reports from the doctors, your adopted fathers, on Magidrian. They spoke to your teachers here. They asked T'Lau to evaluate your telepathic ability and how it would affect your relationships to Terrans in the confines of starship. She concluded you would shield and not be problematic. However, Star Fleet was more interested in her evaluation of your natural telepathic abilities, than your technique for using or not using them, as the case may be. They were especially interested in your empathic ability but T'Lau could not really provide any information on it. Apparently, you and your brothers have learned to shield it from everyone but yourselves and perhaps some of the Sas. As there is evidence of one, they evaluated your relationship with the Klingons, Admiral KzostGhet in particular. Although you scored higher on the entrance exam than any applicant in the history of the Star Fleet Academy, you were rejected because they fear you and your telapathic ability."

"But I am harmless. You know that." Hobie thought back on what never happened again in the cellar. He and Sarek had kept their distance in the previous year.

"I know you are benign, Hobie. The Terrans are an illogical species. They could not be convinced that you are not a threat to them." Sarek wondered if he could have been more convincing in his appeal on Hobie's behalf to the Terran ambassador. Although he did not examine why, it did not displease him to have Hobie remain on Vulcan.

"What will I do?" Hobie had had his heart so set on the Academy, he truly saw only a void before him.

"Go to the Institute or the Conservatory. I believe you were offered places at both."

Hobie was silent, watching the shadows devour the foothills and trying to shove together some kind of palatable future out of the debris before him. It was not easy so he gave up. He let down his shields and reached to his brothers for comfort. Love from all but also sorrow from Maja, anger from Jir, sympathy from Ling. 'It will be all right, it will be all right,' he told himself as much as them. He raised his shields and turned to find Sarek studying him.

"What will you do, Hobie?"

"I dunno. The best I can, I guess."

Sarek arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Neither of them moved.

"Why did you bring me here?" Hobie asked after a little more silence went by.

"I thought you might wish to have some privacy in which to receive the news."

"Were you concerned that I might have an uncontrollable emotional episode?" Hobie let some of his bitterness show.

"No. But I knew Star Fleet's decision would cause you pain," Sarek paused in spite of himself, "that I would rather you did not have."

"Thanks," Hobie said. "That's the trouble with wanting, the not getting." He looked up to meet Sarek's gaze and found more than the usual polite interest there. Not lust, not anger, not fear, not laughter ... compassion? Was that all? Really all? Hobie found himself thinking about the night in the cellar when Sarek gave him the jew's harp. There had been other little gifts, for his brothers as well, but not like that. "You never touched me again after that," he said quietly.

"No." Sarek knew exactly what he was talking about; they were thinking the same thing. "It was inappropriate and unwise."

"To let your guard down for one moment?"

"And you as well, Hobie. You let me see you and my response was merely desire, misguided and uncalled for desire," Sarek said quietly, watching the lamplight glide over Hobie's pure cheek.

"And never again with us, all those trips down the cellar, we never lost ourselves, even for a moment, did we?"

"It would have been inappropriate for both of us, Hobie."

Hobie looked out into the darkness. 'Ah, that's my future, stumbling around in the pitch black,' he thought ruefully but said: "When I was a boy on Magidrian, I'd listen to the monks talking to each other at night. I remember one of them once said that the infinite mind of god can imagine better plans for us than we can with our humble minds. And if we cannot see god's grace everywhere, then we are obviously not looking hard enough." He looked up at Sarek with naked eyes. "D'you think that's true, Vulcan?"

"I have no idea, Hobie." Sarek reached out to stroke the tear off Hobie's cheek. It seemed appropriate to him to pull the youth into his arms.

After the initial surprise, Hobie relaxed into the Vulcan's arms. 'Ah, well. If I'm not going to Star Fleet staying with Sarek is not the worst possible thing,' he thought practically and nestled a little more.

Sarek was pleased by this docility in Hobie. It was a side the half Mage had never let him see before. He found that he was in no great hurry to release him. "So, what will you do?" he murmured into Hobie's hair.

"Right now or eventually?"

"Eventually."

"I guess I'll go to the Institute," Hobie sighed. "The Sas claim one can get a half way decent education there."

"I did."

"I know. I'll study what they can teach me about starship design and see what happens. Perhaps ..." Hobie trailed off, surprised that he had almost said 'perhaps I'll build my own fleet and become a pirate'. "I don't know. I have a few years to kill at the Institute. I'll worry about tomorrow when it's tomorrow. And you, Sarek, what will you do?"

"The same as I have been doing," Sarek answered. "Visit you Talljets and the Sas for Klingon conversation. Nothing has changed."

"Nothing?" Hobie asked from his arms.

"Nothing," Sarek answered, not letting go.

"Hmmm," Hobie observed skeptically.

Placing his hands firmly on Hobie's shoulders, Sarek stepped back to look into the half Mage's eyes. "Hobie, I am sexually attracted to you and I believe it is reciprocated."

"How romantic."

"I am a Vulcan, we are not romantics."

"Then how diplomatic."

"I am not negotiating a treaty, Hobie, I am asking you to become my lover."

"Why?"

"Why?" Sarek marshalled his thoughts, realizing this was not going to be as simple and straightforward as he'd thought. "Why? You have a fire that warms me, Hobie. You are elegant, exquisite; you play the Vulcan lyre with more grace than I have ever heard before. You possess extraodinary intelligence and can be quite logical when it suits you." He paused to listen to Hobie chuckle, encouraged. "And when something delights you, an undefinable energy surges from you and pleases me very much. Do you agree? Will you have me as your lover?"

"Yes, I agree."

"Why?"

"Why not?" Hobie asked, forstalling Sarek's embrace. "What about your wife?"

"I would prefer she did not know."

"Ah. I'm a big secret."

"Would you prefer a more formal arrangement?"

"Vulcan concubinage? Barely tolerated by the matriarchy? A little house on an unfashionable backstreet, unsatisfyingly hasty visits and hours of waiting for them? No, thanks. That cloistered, shunned, shadowy demimondial seems to ruin lives more than anything. I deserve better."

"I thought so, that is why I did not offer it to you." Sarek laced his hands in Hobie's ebony curls and pulled him close.

"Not so fast, Vulcan." Hobie laid his fists on Sarek's chest. "There are some things I want before I hand over my virginity..."

"Are you?"

"Yes. Don't look so shocked."

"I am merely surprised, and pleased as well. I know you have had no lovers since you came here but I thought, perhaps - before, on Magidrian - you had." Sarek watched Hobie shake his head. "What are these things you want?"

"I want you to pay for my brothers' educations."

"I had planned to do so anyway. Yours as well."

"I'll be earning mine from you."

"I had planned to do so, even before I wished to realize my sexual desires for you."

"Really? Why?"

"I find you Talljets interesting. I think you all have fascinating futures here." Hobie narrowed his eyes at him. "You need not be concerned about your brothers, Hobie. I find only you sexually interesting."

"Oh, what an honor!"

Sarek arched an eyebrow and decided against informing the half Mage that it was, in fact, an honor. "Is that all you want?"

"Where will we meet?"

"Here, if that suits you." He watched Hobie frown. "Or, I can purchase another villa, if you would prefer."

"I would prefer that since your family spends its summers here."

"Yes. I will see to it." Sarek let part of his mind tick over the luxurious new villas he'd noticed advertised a few weeks ago. They were almost as sleek and elegant as the youth that stood before him.

"You're in this for the long run, if you're willing to buy and not just rent a villa for me." Hobie stated.

"Yes." Sarek answered with a simplicity that touched Hobie's core. "You are so complex, Hobie, so many levels, so much restrained passion, so intelligent and so beautiful. For now, I can only offer you this limited part of my life, but in the future, I will always have you with me."

Hobie nodded and stepped forward into Sarek's arms. 'You plan well for your future, don't you, Vulcan? How well you know that Terrans live less than half as long as we do,' he thought shrewdly.

"I do not wish to lose you by waiting too long, Hobie," Sarek said, seeming to answer Hobie's thought. "And you will be very busy with your education for some time to come. Neither of us can devote ourselves full time to the other. Do you understand?" Sarek leaned back to look into Hobie's eyes.

"Yes. I understand." Hobie reached up to run his fingertips over Sarek's jaw and around his ear. "Perhaps you should stop talking now."

~

".... penalty for perjury in a Federation court?"

"Yes, I understand," Sarek said in the dock.

~

Sarek tilted Hobie's chin up to look into his eyes. He ran his thumb over the MageCheq's soft lips before bringing his own down on them.

~

"The Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry has requested certain restrictions on this witness' testimony that this Court will abide by as much as possible." Lord Suqiet announced before Lapham rose to question Sarek. "All questions must be phrased as yes or no questions. The Judges will request elaboration as we require it."

~

They stood, unmoving in this embrace until their telefields stabilized at the same harmonic.

~

"As part of your diplomatic duties for the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, did you ask Captain Talljet to board and take the cargo, Mezian ore, off a transport ship in orbit around Meza 6 during the riots there?" Lapham asked.

"No."

~

Feeling Hobie relax, Sarek pulled him a little closer. The Vulcan removed his lips to Hobie's long neck and was pleased when Hobie's arms tightened around him.

~

"As part of your diplomatic duties for the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, did you ask Captain Talljet to

attack, board and loot an Ithintian private freighter carrying dilithium crystals en route to Yksta 8?"

"No.

~

"Have you never had sex with a man, Hobie?"

"No."

"I thought you had."

"No. If you've been listening to rumors, they're all about Jir." Hobie let his forehead rest on Sarek's collarbone. "And they're all true, too."

~

"As part of your diplomatic duties for the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, did you ask Captain Talljet to lay siege to the port of Griza on Frinta and remove the contents of several warehouses there?"

"No."

~

"Would you prefer to wait?"

"No."

Sarek looked around at the various couches in the room and then back at Hobie.

"One of the guest rooms or a hotel, Sarek, either will be fine for me."

~

"As part of your diplomatic duties for the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, did you ask Captain Talljet to attack and engage in a prolonged skirmish with the USS Praga en route to Meza 6 to quell the unrest there?"

"No."

~

"This will do." Hobie stepped into the largest guest room. "Have you done this before, Vulcan?"

"No."

"Then how will we know what to do?"

"We shall ascertain and enact what brings us both the maximum pleasure and avoid that which does not."

"Ah, logical." He reached for the fastening at the back of his tunic.

~

"Until it was announced in this court, were you aware you had fathered a child with Captain Talljet?"

"No."

"No further questions," Lapham said. "However, I reserve the right to recall this witness."

~

Sarek gently brushed Hobie's fingers away from the fastening and unfastened it himself. He undid each clasp slowly and smoothed the garment off Hobie's ivory shoulders. Overcome by the urge to taste the soft flesh, he bent down and found it sweet.

~

"When Polmira gets home, send him up to my studio with tea for both of us, hey?" Master Ghet asked his highly reliable son, Hraja.

"It is done, Master." Hraja bowed.

~

Hobie let his head fall back on Sarek's shoulder as the Vulcan worked his lips around and under the half Mage's left ear. It was a gentle but demanding caress and exactly what Hobie had been fantasizing about since the night Sarek had kissed him in the cellar.

~

"Defense," Lord Suqiet said. "SaJir, phrase your questions carefully or I'll fine you for contempt."

~

He tried to turn, to crush his mouth to the Vulcan's but Sarek held him fast.

"So beautiful."

~

"You sent for me, Master?" Polmira asked as he entered with a tea tray.

"I did." Maja turned from sponging the whitewash off his mural of his middle school friends and surveyed his nephew. Maja was dressed in only a loincloth, his favored work dress. He eyed Polmira's immaculate school uniform and wondered how he stayed so tidy. Maja and Ling were always muddy and dusty and trailing vines by the time they got home from school at that age. "Change into that smock and help me with this. Then we'll have some tea and a chat."

~

"So very beautiful."

Hobie arched as Sarek's warm fingertips glided over his hardening nipples.

~

"Did you ask Captain Talljet to gather intelligence for you in the Miska system?" Jir asked.

"Yes."

~

They lay down together, both almost overwhelmed with desire.

Almost.

~

"Who are these children?" Polmira asked as more and more of the mural was revealed.

"All my little friends from Shirkar Middle #7," Maja answered. "There's T'Paga, Spoda, SiBrodza, Stven ... Spock."

~

"You are not relaxed, Hobie. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm not very good at relaxing. I've had to watch my back and my brothers for so long...." Hobie dropped his eyes. "Sorry."

"It is all right, Hobie, you're safe here."

~

"And did Captain Talljet send back information from the Miska system?"

"Yes."

~

Hobie relaxed a little more in Sarek's arms.

~

"Why was it covered up?" Polmira asked.

"Ling said he covered it so Jir would not destroy it," Maja said.

~

Sarek rolled on top of Hobie and placed his hands in meld position. And was deafened by the roar inside the half Mage's head. He removed his hands.

~

"As part of your duties at the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, did you use the information relayed by Captain Talljet to make policy decisions regarding the Miska system?" Jir asked.

"Objection." Lapham rose. "We cannot know how much or how little the putative information influenced policy. The Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry was not the only decision maker in the plans to bring the Miska system into the Federation."

~

Hobie looked wryly at the Vulcan. "If you had asked permission to meld with me I would have said no and you'd not have been startled."

"What is going on in your head, Hobie?" Sarek was trying to shake off the psychic energy that had washed over him. Recovering his composure and erection were something he'd think about later.

~

"Why would Uncle Jir want to destroy something of yours, Master?" Polmira asked.

"I think Jir was very angry for a long time, so angry he didn't want to see anything of the happier past for a while." Maja sat back and poured tea for them.

~

"Overruled. Answer the question, Lord Sarek," Lord Suqiet growled.

"Yes."

"Elaborate." Lady T'Pnov said before Jir could ask his next question.

~

"We Talljets are wired up a little differently from you Vulcans." Hobie sat up to explain. "Where you shield the psychic energy around you, we filter it. Some we absorb and use, some we reject and let pass through our telefield." He reached out a long warm hand and stroked Sarek back to full hardness with the barest caress. "But it is necessary that everything in all four of our telefields is processed and it can be very noisy if you're not used to the traffic." He ran his tongue over Sarek's erect nipple and found it less salty than he'd anticipated. "We Talljets can never bond in the traditional Vulcan fashion because we are bonded to each other. More like enmeshed in each other." He bent to nuzzle the head of Sarek's cock, his silky curls brushing against the Vulcan's belly.

Sarek pulled him up by a handful of ebony locks. "Does that mean your brothers are here now?"

~

"Polmira," Maja said, lunging into his mission from Hobie. "I know you love your brothers and that you loved Tossar. I also know you have sometimes felt ... odd. As if you didn't entirely belong to the family you were born into." He watched Polmira nod. "Then, would you be very surprised if I told you that Tossar was not your biological father?"

Polmira didn't make Maja's job any easier; he simply raised his eyebrows and remained silent.

~

"No. There are certain things we shield from each other. Jir shields especially; if we experienced everything Jir does, we'd be in a constant state of arousal."

Sarek said nothing as he maneuvered them in to a sixty-nine.

~

"Captain Talljet," Sarek said, "relayed valuable information about the internal warfare in the Miska system over a period of four years. During peaceful interludes, he relayed information regarding trade agreements between the planets, technological advances, political developments and interference from outsiders - mainly the Klingons and the Romulans."

"How was the information relayed to you, Lord Sarek?" Judge Sjrika asked.

"Usually in person."

"On Vulcan?"

"No. I would travel to a prearranged location that did not arouse suspicion."

"You said 'usually.' When not relayed in person, how did you receive the intelligence?"

"Through the Shirkar offices of Talljet, Inc."

~

Fellatio was new for both of them but with focus, they mastered it quickly.

~

"Well, you little thing," Maja snapped at last. "Aren't you going to ask me whom your bio father is?"

"I believe it's 'who your bio father is', Master." Polmira said mildly into Maja's most ferocious scowl. "But, yes, please tell me who my biological father is."

"Sarek the Vulcan."

"Oh? I met him the other evening. He seems very nice."

"He is, child, he is."

~

Sarek was pleased by how neatly Hobie's cock fit down his throat. He stroked Hobie's round ass and concentrated on giving the youth as much pleasure as possible.

~

"Resume, SaJir," Lord Suqiet murmured, mulling over what he'd just heard.

Jir was displeased that Talljet Inc. had been brought into the testimony but what was done was done. "Lord Sarek, did you ask Captain Talljet to convince Hypz, the dictator of Meza 6, to break his alliance with the Neqfarsian Imperial Trading League."

"Yes."

Jir was seriously hoping one of the judges would ask 'why,' but they did not.

~

Hobie unhinged his jaw to take in all of Sarek's cock and shuddered with his own pleasure.

~

"Then this Spock person," Polmira gestured to the gawky little kid in the mural standing between Maja and T'Pring, "is my half brother."

"That is correct."

"Does that make Amanda my step-mother?"

"I've no idea. Ask your Uncle Jir; he'd know all the legal ramifications."

~

Hobie arched and cried out, although it was muffled by Sarek's cock down his throat, as he came.

Puzzled that Hobie had come but not ejaculated, Sarek decided to ask him about it ... later.

~

"Did you ask Captain Talljet to convince Hypz to bring Meza 6 into the Federation?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Lord Suqiet asked, thereby winning Jir's heart forever.

~

Sarek let Hobie's soft organ slip from between his lips.

Recovering as best he could, Hobie applied himself to bringing the Vulcan off as quickly as possible.

~

"Listen, beastie, aren't you the least distressed that Tossar, the man you thought was your father all your little life, turns out not to be?" Maja asked, exasperated by the little beauty's composure.

"Tossar will always be my father, Master," Polmira explained with gravity. "And I will always love him as my father. But he's dead and Hobie, Sarek, Spock, Amanda, you, Uncle Jir, Aunt Ling, the cousins and everyone here with us is alive. Isn't it fortunate that I've lost one father and gained another?"

Maja eyed him for a moment and decided he was sincere - what else could he be? "I must endeavor to remember that you are a VulCheq and therefore logical."

~

Sarek drew Hobie up to his chest.

"I haven't ..." Hobie protested.

"I know. I have something else in mind." Sarek settled himself between Hobie's legs and spread them very wide.

~

"During the Hypz dictatorship, Meza 6 was the largest and most developed of the planets in the Miska system." Sarek explained. "I felt that if Meza 6 could be persuaded to apply for Federation membership, it would bring the rest of the system with it. I considered Hypz the key to bringing Meza 6 into the Federation and I asked Hobie to sound him about it. I do not know what Hobie's success was as Hypz was murdered and the system plunged into chaos before his next report."

"Continue, SaJir." Lord Suqiet intoned.

~

"May I go now, Master?" Polmira asked, forsaking his work smock and putting his school uniform back on.

"I don't see why not." Maja, feeling a chill, pulled his Master's cloak over his lack of attire. "Where're you off to?"

"I'm dining with Strig's family tonight."

"Oh ho! So you're off to make sure you look extra gorgeous for that clan. If that old witch Princess T'Pira is there don't get any water on her or she'll melt and you'll have transgressed one of the few Vulcan etiquette laws about melting your hostess or her dependents and they would never be able to invite you back."

"Yes, Master," Polmira agreed, as usual somewhat confused by his uncle Maja. "I will try to remember."

"Then go with god, my child."

"Thank you, Master."

~

Sarek rolled Hobie forward and centered his slippery cockhead at the entrance of his body. He watched with pleasure Hobie relax, trust and open to him.

~

"Did you ask Captain Talljet to murder Hypz?" Jir asked.

"No."

"Do you think he did?"

"N..."

"Objection." Lapham rose. "Counsel is asking the witness to speculate."

"Why not? It's a yes or no question, is it not?" Jir fired back.

~

Sarek sank gently into Hobie's body and leaned to kiss the flushed and parted lips beneath his.

~

"Counsel is recasting acts of piracy and murder as mandated by a Federation agency that was not fully in control of those events and therefore could not, would not have ordered them!"

"I'm just trying to ascertain what Captain Talljet's job for the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry really was!"

Sarek looked away from the argument before the bench and found Hobie studying him with the cool amusement that a lover would recognize. He returned the look in the manner he had always returned it - dry and curious.

~

"Why are you laughing?"

"I never thought I could relax this much."

"Well done, then." Sarek lengthened his strokes.

~

"I request this witness be dismissed as unreliable!"

"There is nothing unreliable about this witness!"

Sarek could not feel Hobie in the room but noted that he was a beautiful as ever. He also thought Hobie looked peaceful, as if he'd surrendered to his fate and whatever good Jir could do him here, in the courtroom. Sarek leaned back as Jir's holograph merged into the dock as he and Lapham seemed to be trying to climb up the bench to make their arguments. He held Hobie's eyes and wondered, for the nth time, why his beautiful half Mage had left him without a word, without a sign until several years had passed and Hobie was a .... an entrepreneur.

~

Sarek was gentle with Hobie, even as he came, plunging in full length and throwing his head back with a strangled cry of pure pleasure, pure release. He tried not to black out and propped his weight on his arms when he regained consciousness so as not to crush his lover.

Hobie put his arms around Sarek and held his shuddering blacked out lover and shuddered into his second orgasm. More subtle but as enjoyable as the first one.

~

"Counsel, that's enough!" Lord Suqiet said firmly.

"If you have no grounds to remove this witness!"

"I have plenty of ...!"

"BAILIFF! SAJIR AND COMMANDER LAPHAM ARE EACH FINED 500 CREDITS FOR CONTEMPT AND IF THEY ARE NOT IN THEIR SEATS AND SILENT IN 5 SECONDS THEY ARE TO BE GAGGED AND TAKEN INTO CUSTODY UNTIL TOMORROW MORNING!" Lord Suqiet roared as Jir and Lapham fled to their seats like bad third graders. "The witness and accused are dismissed until ten o'clock tomorrow morning." Boring into Jir and then Lapham with his eyes, as if daring them to even think the wrong thing, Lord Suqiet paused as Sarek and Hobie were hustled out of the real and virtual courtrooms. "THIS IS A COURT OF LAW AND I WILL NOT HAVE IT TURNED INTO A BACCHANAL! THERE WILL BE NO FURTHER OUTBURSTS IN THE QUESTIONING OF THIS WITNESS! THIS COURT IS ADJOURNED UNTIL TEN O'CLOCK TOMORROW MORNING!" Lord Suqiet rose abruptly, followed by the other judges, and swept from the room.

Defense and Prosecution left the courtroom with alacrity as well.

~

Sarek rolled off Hobie and settled him on his chest. They lay comfortably together for a short while. It was necessary for them to return to their respective homes before their absences aroused suspicion.

The next day Hobie accepted his place at the Vulcan Institute and Sarek, through a third party, bought a chic new villa in the mountains outside of Shirkar.

* * *

Jir sighed when he saw the viewer and keyboard on his table the next morning. It could only mean that Lord Suqiet had decided that Sarek's examination was only to be in writing from now on. It was all right; Jir felt he'd made his point, even if it cost him 500 credits.

The rest of the session with Sarek was extremely dull, even for a Vulcan court. Hobie nearly dozed off twice. It was established that the four acts of piracy of which Hobie was accused occurred during the four year period that Sarek received information about the Miska system from Hobie. It was further established that Hobie had made contact with and arranged for Sarek and other members of the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry to meet with members of the ruling elite of Csro 6 and Bven 3 of the Srenis system, which subsequently became a member of the Federation, thus providing an important trade route along the border of non-aligned space. Jir was sure that this testimony was conclusive evidence that Hobie was acting in the interests of the Federation during this time and could not be guilty of breaking its laws. Jir's other argument was simply that the acts of piracy of which Hobie was accused took place in non-aligned space and were not illegal under what laws there were there at that time.

Jir also made short work of the Star Fleet crewmen that thought they had skirmished and chased Hobie through the Miska system. The Praga's logs never fully identified who they were chasing. It had merely been assumed it was Hobie the Pirate because the ship was visually identified as one of his and it was known Hobie was in the vicinity. However, there had been no visual or auditory contact with the crew or captain, therefore no voiceprint or image to confirm it. Circumstantial speculation and Jir shredded it.

Lord Suqiet watched the last Star Fleet witness leave the stand and asked that Hobie be returned to his cell until the trial resumed the next day. He waited until Hobie was out of the room before he spoke. "I have spoken to the Klingon Ambassador and he is reluctant but willing to allow you to call Master Ghet as your witness, Commander Lapham. He has agreed to allow Master Ghet to be questioned in this courtroom on the condition that he is escorted by a Klingon guard as befits his station in the Empire. I do not like the idea of armed Klingons in this courtroom but you have made a very convincing argument for SaMaja's appearance in this court. It is hoped that his testimony will give this court enough insight into what happened after he and Captain Talljet left Vulcan twenty years ago to make an informed decision in this case. I have never had so much difficulty getting subpoenaed witnesses before a court in my career. Master Ghet will testify in three days. This court is adjourned until then." Lord Suqiet, Lady T'Pnov and Sjrika rose and left the courtroom.

Jir had hoped the Klingons would refuse to let St. Gozine testify in this sordid matter but it was not to be. He wondered what Lapham hoped to prove with Maja's testimony but could draw no conclusions. Neither could Storen or Smig. He left the prison and made his way to his office to have a nap before Maja came to discuss what he was and was not to say in court.

* * *

"I'm sorry to disturb you Ambassador," Smirek, Sarek's secretary at the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry commed a few days later. "But there is a Vulcan named SerNera demanding to see you and Master Ghet is with him."

"Ask them to step into my office, Smirek."

"SerNera prefers to speak to you here, in the anteroom, Ambassador."

"I see. I shall be with you in a moment." Sarek broke off his reply to Admiral Jessup's irritated communication as to why 'in the flying hell was the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry running such a loose cannon like Hobie Talljet as a spy?!?.' It was almost a pleasure to be interrupted as Sarek was finding himself hard pressed for an official explanation. He rose, adjusted his robes and wondered what his old Klingon tutor wanted of him.

The waiting room of Sarek's office suite in the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry was austere and shared by three other diplomats. Part of it was occupied by the secretaries' desk units. Smirek was standing uncertainly beside Maja and SerNera. There were a number of visitors, secretaries, assistants and clerks lingering in the area to see what business a Klingon Master had at the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry. They all pricked up their ears as Sarek approached the trio.

Maja rolled his eyes and Sarek wondered what truly was up here. "Greetings, SerNera ...." he began.

"Defiler of youth," croaked the old Vulcan in Old Vulcan. "Whoremonger. Thief. Libertine. Barbarian. I have come to thrash you for violating the trust extended to you by the Sas when you were allowed a seat and refreshment at that ancient hearth. A trust you threw into the dust to assuage your lust."

Silence descended over the anteroom.

Maja nearly bit through his tongue to keep from dissolving into a fit of hysterical giggles.

Smirek won a major struggle to keep his eyebrow from rising.

Sarek kept his face bland as he stood before the old Vulcan. He felt SerNera's use of Old Vulcan very appropriate. It was not lost on him that entry into the Sa milieu was rare, guarded and he had indeed violated their trust. "Yes, SerNera, I have earned your censure."

Hearing the seriousness in Sarek's tone, Maja gave up his mirth and sharpened his attention.

SerNera raised a frail and creaky arm. He looked up at Sarek, who was at least a head taller then him, and assessed the trajectory of his strike. "Lean forward, Sarek."

Sarek bent at the waist and received a surprisingly hard blow to his right cheek. He resisted bringing his hand to soothe the stinging flesh. He even waved away Maja's healing ministrations.

"We are avenged," SerNera intoned. He narrowed his eyes at Sarek and lowered his voice. "Actually, Sarek, you could have had Hobie that first night if you'd made us the right offer, you know?"

"I find it futile to speculate in hindsight, SerNera." Sarek blandly told him. "I regret that I offended the house of Sa and hope I will still be admitted there."

"Yes, yes, yes," SerNera chanted. "This is a two part mission, Sarek: to chastise you and then invite what's left of you to the party to celebrate Hobie's liberation we've got planned for Noltarek’s Eve. Everybody will be there; you must come." Maja extended a heavily embossed envelope addressed to Sarek in the most elegant Vulcan calligraphy the Commune could manage. The notation 'dancing' in the lower right corner of the invitation had sent shock waves through the Shirkar social scene and much dancing shoe business to its cobblers. All Vulcans can dance an Imman or two but few and far between are the opportunities to do so.

Noltarek’s Eve was a full week before the official start of the Shirkar season so Sarek, who like 'everybody' in Shirkar had no plans for that evening, readily agreed. He wondered how much this would flummox the nouvelle Vulcan hostesses; Noltarek’s Eve had ceased to be the official start of the Shirkar season two thousand years ago when the old families were defeated by the forces of Surak. Much history, etiquette and snobbery would be tossed sideways depending on who was and was not invited to Hobie's liberation party.

If he was liberated - Sarek was not certain that the trial was going to go his way, however brilliant a defense Jir was providing his brother. His contemplation of that was cut short by the arrival of Admiral Jessup.

"You don't need a rescue, do you Ambassador?" Jessup asked good naturally. He'd seen the entire incident and could not imagine what in the flying hell was going on.

"No. Thank you, Admiral," Sarek said. "I was just about to suggest we all have lunch at Strivasa, if you can accept an invitation on such short notice."

Maja, SerNera and the Admiral were delighted to accept. Poor Smirek was forced to use Sarek's and Jir's names to get a table on such short notice but, being an effective secretary, he was victorious.

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Master Ghet," Jessup said, when they were seated at a highly visible table in the best restaurant in Shirkar. "I have admired your work for a long time and I was very impressed by the way you defended yourself on the Klingon homeworld."

"I was lucky on Klingon, Admiral," Maja said, muching on a raw vegetable from the appetizer tray before him. "I should be dead except I happened to tell the Klingons, most of them anyway, exactly what they wanted to hear at that moment. I highly recommend it for extricating oneself from difficult situations."

"I believe I have used it once or twice, sir," Jessup allowed. "I notice half your art sale went back to the Empire."

"Yes, good work that," Maja said. "I was surprised the Hierophant Kroldt himself bought 'Gozine the Confessor.' I'd have made him a present of it if I'd known."

"And General KmordriYhet bought 'Sleeping Youth'," Jessup observed. "I believe a portrait of your middle son, Hraja."

"Yes." Maja began to wonder how much StaFlet intelligence knew about the short reign of Maja I, the Klong-Rom Emperor. "That little art sale is going to finance the party of the century. You're invited, Admiral." Maja swerved into another subject. "We sent the most pirate looking scalawags of Hobie's fleet to deliver the Star Fleet invitations. Too bad you won't be there to see him or her. But then again, if you come to our little party, the buccaneers will all be there and you can see how exotic they are for yourself."

"I should be delighted," Jessup said sincerely. He was delighted by Maja's quaint, Star Fleet brat Standard. "When is it planned for?"

"Five days from today."

"Will the trial be finished by then?" Jessup asked, surprised.

"Should be." Maja hefted his menu. "They grill me tomorrow and then Hobie the next day. The lawyers make their closing arguments after that. The Judges will deliberate and give out their verdict."

"How are you betting on the outcome, Master?" Jessup asked.

"Victory for Hobie, Jir and his team, of course. Jir is, after all, the best lawyer in the galaxy," Maja assured him.

"Certainly one of the most attractive." Jessup smiled.

At that moment, their sumptuous lunch arrived and they proceeded to have a very enjoyable repast.

* * *

'Oh Maja! I am all jealous now,' Jir thought as he watched his younger brother march serenely into the Shirkar Federation Courtroom #3 at the head of his escort of huge Klingons in full dress uniforms. They stood at attention behind the visitors' rail as Maja, wearing the high conical hat and rune emblazoned cloak of a Klingon Master, swept majestically into the dock, where he piously listened to the explanation of the Federation's position on perjury. 'You've made theatrical, if not legal, history with that entrance.'

A moment of reverent silence descended upon the courtroom as all the participants took a moment to examine the exotic holy man before them.

"Prosecution, examine this witness." Lord Suqiet had not enjoyed Maja's entrance. Nor was he pleased to have more Klingons in the courtroom than bailiffs but he could do nothing about it. Lapham had very strenuously requested this witness and Lord Suqiet was curious to see what he would make of Master Ghet of the Most Holy Klingon Church.

"Will you please state all the names by which you are known?" Lapham asked mildly.

"Gozine the Confessor, Master Gozine Gozshedrefreingin Ghet of the Gozshedrefreingin Commune of the Most Holy Klingon Church, SaMaja, and Maja Talljet, Michael James MacQuarrie, and Maja." Maja raised his eyes to meet Hobie's. They exchanged an affectionate look; Maja's list of names had neatly summed up his, as well as much of Talljet, history.

"Master Ghet," Lapham addressed him in deference to the Klingons. "How old were you when you and Captain Talljet left Vulcan?"

"I was nineteen, nearly twenty."

"You and your brother left the planet abruptly?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We were sick of Vulcans."

"Why?"

"Objection." Jir said. "What has this to do with the crimes of which Captain Talljet is accused?"

"Counsel?" Lord Suqiet was curious as well.

"I am attempting to ascertain Captain Talljet's reasons for leaving Vulcan and subsequently the Federation," Lapham explained. "If, as my colleague argues, he was an agent of the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry when he left Vulcan, I would like to determine why a very young Master Ghet accompanied him."

Lord Suqiet exchanged looks with his fellow Judges, who lowered their eyes, indicating it was his decision. "Overruled."

Jir frowned mentally. 'Hochofedra, MajaYaja, you're on your own here,' he thought, shrugging microscopically.

"Why were you so sick of Vulcans," Lapham asked blandly, "that you and your brother felt it necessary to leave Vulcan at a moment's notice?"

"The Vulcan I was in love with jilted me," Maja stated flatly.

"Who was that person?"

Jir: "Objection. What difference does it make who it was?"

Lord Suqiet: "Counsel?"

Lapham: "I am still trying to establish a connection with the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry, your Honor."

Lord Suqiet, like everyone who knew one of the Talljets fairly well, in his case Jir, knew who jilted Maja and why, but his curiosity about where Lapham was going with this was intense. "Overruled."

"Who was this person who jilted you and caused you and your brother to leave Vulcan with alacrity?" Lapham restated.

"Spock cha'Sarek."

"And why did he jilt you?"

Jir: "Objection. This has nothing to do with the issues at hand."

Lord Suqiet: "Counsel?"

Lapham: "I am trying to establish a connection between Ambassador Sarek and Captain Talljet that would involve Master Ghet and require that he and his brother leave Vulcan with such dispatch. I find it significant that Master Ghet has stated that he left Vulcan because he was jilted by Spock cha'Sarek. I would like to know why he was jilted and jilted badly enough to remove himself from Vulcan and then from the Federation and to take his elder brother with him."

Lord Suqiet: "Overruled."

Lapham: "Why did Spock cha'Sarek jilt you?"

Maja: "He chose to go to the Star Fleet Academy."

Lapham: "As many people do. Your reaction seems rather extreme for such a simple decision. Why was that?"

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is speculating on the twenty year old emotional reaction of a broken hearted youth without proper consideration of the cultural factors involved."

Lord Suqiet: "Counsel?"

Lapham: "I withdraw the question. You say you left Vulcan because you were jilted. Was that your only course? To leave?"

Maja: "No. I could have stayed. Or died; or done something completely different."

Lapham: "Then why do what you did?"

Jir: "Ob...."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time, Terran." Maja's snarl cut Jir off mid word. "That's all there is to say on this subject."

Lapham drew up all his inner resources not to take a step back from the witness. In his forward momentum, he had, for a moment, forgotten he was dealing with a strange and powerful alien. "Then we will leave it," he said with more calm than he felt. "For now." He needlessly consulted his notes. "How did you get offworld?"

"In a spaceship."

"Did you buy a ticket, or stowaway or what?"

Maja decided the question was harmless. "Hobie knew the captain of one of the freighters in the Port. He traded us work for passage."

"What sort of work?"

"Hobie cooked and I cleaned."

"And where did you go?"

Maja's eyes clouded remembering his sorrow. He had not been able to remember the details of the trip because of it; Jir had had to tell him the names of the planets they had ended up on. "Ahbahdlindi, just at the border of Federation space."

"And from there?"

"We picked up a ride into non-aligned space."

"How?"

"How?" Maja had to think about it for a moment; it was a long time ago. "We talked an Andorian freighter captain into giving us a lift. To Brizdono 7 or 8, I think."

"You don't remember?"

"I do remember it was one of the Brizdono group, but I don't remember which one."

Lapham dropped it. "Why did you and Captain Talljet go into non-aligned space?"

"We thought it would be a good place for us to make a new start."

"And did you?"

"Did we what?"

"Make a new start?" Lapham asked patiently.

"Yes."

Lapham waited for elaboration. "And how did you, Master Ghet, make a new start?" he asked when none came.

"I switched from painting and drawing to sculpting stone and casting metals."

"I don't understand your answer, could you please elaborate?" Lapham asked.

"I went to a planet called Yzorfiraina and studied sculpture with a master there." Maja and Jir had decided to leave Admiral Kzost out of it. He had picked up Hobie and Maja on whatever Brizdono it was and taken Maja to Princess Malira and the safety of the Khat's home on Yzorfiraina, a distant planet where the unfashionable Khats now lived. Long ago the Khats had been the imperial family but as they preferred art and knowledge to force, they had seen the wisdom in yielding to the Tzaj clan and their vassals, the Haats and Yhets. En route, Kzost had picked up MajaKhat, who had promptly fallen in love with Maja Talljet, then known as GozineGhet.

"And then?"

"And then I moved to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune." It was not necessary for the court to know that there was a resurgence of anti-Rom feeling in the Empire and it became unsafe to be a Rom there. So unsafe, Kzost had come himself to transport Maja, MajaKhat, and the babies, Tien and Hraja, to the safer obscurity of the outcast Klingon Commune system. It was brilliant really: the Klingons did not care about the Roms and other half breeds in the Commune system as the Commune system was an undesirable place for undesirables, or so was the conventional but wrongheaded Klingon wisdom. The danger for those of Rom heritage was to be somewhere desirable, somewhere one could be pulled down from, preferably with a squishy, crunchy crash.

"And was Captain Talljet with you when you went to the Gozshedrefreingin Commune?"

"No."

"Where was Captain Talljet at this time?"

"I believe he was building ships on Ashagedra."

"Why was he on Ashagedra?"

"He'd heard of a master shipbuilder there so he went to build ships with him."

"Do you know who this shipbuilder was?"

"No." If Lapham wanted to know, he could ask Hobie, Maja decided.

"Do you know how he got there?"

"No." Maja chose not to tell the Terran that Kzost had made all the arrangements for settling both of them into safe, happy and productive lives. What happened later on Ashagedra was beyond everyone's, including that very capable Klingon's, control.

"Do you know what happened on Ashagedra after Tossar stormed and took the city of Gvz on that planet?"

"No."

"Your brother never told you what happened?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell us what he told you?"

"Ask him. It happened to him."

"SaMaja." Lord Suqiet glowered down at him, ignoring some ominous fidgeting among the Klingons. "Answer the questions you are asked."

Maja damped down his irritation: "What are you asking me, Commander?"

"What did Captain Talljet tell you happened on Ashagedra when Tossar stormed and took the planet?"

Maja: "Tossar imprisoned Hobie and the shipbuilders so they would rebuild his fleet. That is, in fact, why Tossar stormed and took Ashagedra."

Lapham: "And yet, three years later we begin to hear of the first reports that Hobie Talljet is now the leader of the Tossarian pirates. How did this come about?"

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is asking the witness to confirm his speculation that the Tossarians were pirates and that Captain Talljet was the leader of pirates."

Lord Suqiet: "Sustained. Commander, use more care in how you phrase your questions to this witness."

Lapham: "Yes, sir. Leaving aside what the Tossarians were or were not, was it three or so years later that Captain Talljet became associated with them?"

Maja: "I think it was three years, yes."

Lapham: "Do you know how Captain Talljet went from being a prisoner, perhaps a slave, to ... associating with them as an equal?"

Maja sighed. He and Jir had discussed this question late into the evening and decided that he and Hobie would a) answer it and b) keep their answers consistent. He cued up his prepared spiel: "I believe Captain Tossar, in his daily interaction with my brother, Hobie Talljet, grew to esteem him. It was in this growing affection that Tossar returned Hobie's and the shipbuilder's freedom."

Lapham: "Captain Talljet's younger sons were fathered by Tossar. Don't you consider that a little more than esteem, Master."

Maja: "Use your eyes, Terran. Tossar was not stupid; he knew a good thing when it came along."

Lord Suqiet: "Master Ghet, you are dangerously close to contempt of court."

Maja: "My apologies."

Lapham: "You raise an interesting point, Master Ghet. How do you know Tossar was not stupid? Did you know him?"

Maja: "No."

Lapham: "Then how do you know he was not stupid?"

Jir: "Objection. This is irrelevant."

Lord Suqiet: "Let the witness answer and we'll see if it's irrelevant."

Maja: "It is my opinion that Tossar was not stupid because he survived in non-aligned space, even created his own Autonomous Zone in his own lifetime. That is not done on brute force alone."

Lord Suqiet: "How is this fact relevant, Commander?"

Lapham: "It is not, sir."

Lord Suqiet: "The objection is sustained. Commander, stay within the subject or I will recess and you will submit your questions in writing to the bench before any further examination of this witness is allowed."

Lapham: "Yes, sir. Master Ghet, did you meet Tossar in person?"

Maja: "No."

Lapham: "How long was Captain Talljet associated with Tossar?"

Maja: "Almost eleven years."

Lapham: "Did Captain Talljet benefit from his association with Tossar?"

Maja: "He got to keep his life."

Lord Suqiet: "Bailiff, Master Ghet is fined three hundred credits for contempt of court. Master Ghet, answer the question yes or no."

Maja: "I cannot, sir."

Lord Suqiet: "Why not?"

Maja: "It is a subjective question that only my brother can answer."

Lord Suqiet: "Indeed. Counsel, withdraw or rephrase the question."

Lapham: "I withdraw it. I have no further questions at this time but reserve the right to call this witness again at a later time."

Lord Suqiet: "Granted and hopefully the Klingons will allow it as well. Defense."

Jir: "I have no questions at this time but reserve the right to call this witness again at a later time."

"Granted." Lord Suqiet took a moment to survey the three Talljets before him, each an amazing creature, the absent Ling as well, it was not to be denied. "The witness is dismissed." He watched Maja make his Klingon escorted exit. "This court is recessed until tomorrow morning at ten o'clock."

* * *

"Well, that was an expensive morning, Maja," Ling scolded when presented with the contempt fine for three hundred credits.

"It was an interesting morning, too, little sister." Maja told her. "That Lapham is a smart Terran if I ever see one, as Hobie would say. I think he's trying to prove that Hobie embraced the pirate life with more gusto than Jir presents."

Ling rolled her eyes and decided to change the subject: "How did Polmira take finding out he's related to SpockDeVulCheq?"

"Extremely well. So well in fact, I was puzzled until I found out that my brats have a very high opinion of both Spock and Sarek and you know Polmira thinks his cousins walk on the clouds. And then, of course, everyone adores Amanda so it was just a short hop for Polmira to decide he doesn’t mind being part of that tribe as well."

"Not to mention that Strig's family is suddenly much friendlier."

"Nauseating, isn't it?"

"Not for Polmira, I think he's in love."

"With Strig? Poor thing."

"What's wrong with Strig?"

"He's a Vulcan. They're like Vbrijats, you never know which way they’re gonna jump." Maja smiled crookedly. "You know, jump up, run off to Gol like Stonet, to Star Fleet like Spock, dump their wife, take her back like Sarek. Hard on the ones that love them; impossible really. Your Stez is the only reliable Vulcan I've ever met."

"Yes, isn't he?" was all Ling found to say to Maja's diatribe in view of the fact that Amanda, upon learning of Polmira's parentage, had gone back to Sarek so she could welcome Polmira, as well as Lyra and Bot, into the family properly. She'd even gone blond again. Sarek had not objected; in fact as Maja later learned, Sarek had never finished divorcing Amanda so she had every right to return to her own home. Sredia had been the most distressed by this turn of events but he confined his grumbling to the kitchen. Sarek had merely switched to sleeping in his apartment on the Strand and gave Maja a key to that.

Maja had been annoyed but was distracted by testifying in court, helping the Sas plan their party and working on a large sculpture of a vulcanoid dancing boy that bore a suspicious resemblance to a younger Jir as Skolta. He was working in Ovzridine marble, from a Vulcan quarry that was highly reluctant to sell it to a Klingon master, and the stone was giving him trouble. Even after he'd purchased a set of Vulcan tools to work in Vulcan stone, he had to go slowly and watch carefully for fault lines that would cause the entire structure to crumble. He and Hraja had x-rayed, trans-rayed and resonated the block but it was still slow going. Ovzridine was like Vulcans; you never knew which way it was gonna jump. Worth it, though, the pale red stone seemed to radiate light from its depths.

"At least the financial pressure has eased a little," Ling observed neutrally. "Eventually one of us is going to have to go straighten out the Certegians in the Etrig system. That would permanently restabilize the currency situation in that quadrant."

"Only if we crush their self determinism and put them back to work for us."

"It was a good situation for them until they got greedy. Forty percent of the profits was quite generous of us considering we bore one hundred percent of the risk and defense for them."

"I don't disagree. We happily protected them from the Lasadroian pirates until they turned around and made an alliance with those same pirates."

"Maja, don't be negative."

"I'm not, Noli. I'm just being realistic. The Certegians don't want us back in their space, their economy or their lives. It's going to be a nasty fight. Better be prepared than surprised, that's all." Maja smiled warmly at his sister. "It's all right, Ling, I'll take Malira and Neria-Tza as my seconds and the Certegians will cave in like rotten fruit."

"I hope that's true, Nolo, I hope that's true."

* * *

Hobie: "I understand."

Lord Suqiet: "Prosecution."

Lapham: "State the names you are known by."

Hobie: "Hobie Tossara, SaHobie, Hobie Talljet, Harold Easton Carstairs, Hobie."

Lapham: "You've omitted Hobie the Pirate."

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is baiting the witness."

Lord Suqiet: "Sustained. Control yourself, Commander."

Lapham: "I apologize to the Court. Captain Talljet, you are charged with acts of piracy while you were allegedly the leader of the Tossarian pirates. I would like you to tell the court how you knew Captain Tossar."

Jir: "Objection. What had that to do with the acts with which Captain Talljet is charged?"

Lord Suqiet: "Counsel?"

Lapham: "Captain Talljet is charged with crimes committed during his tenure as the leader of the Tossarian pirates."

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is casting the personnel of Captain Talljet's fleet as pirates without proper evidence."

Lord Suqiet: "Overruled and sustained. Commander Lapham, avoid inflammatory depictions of Captain Talljet and his associates. Continue."

Lapham: "Thank you. Captain Talljet, how did you meet Captain Tossar?"

Hobie: "We met when Tossar stormed the city of Gvz on Ashagedra, to kidnap the shipbuilder, Pholt, to whom I was apprenticed."

Lapham: "And what happened?"

Hobie: "What do you mean? 'What happened?'"

Lapham: "When you met Tossar, what were the events?"

Hobie caught Jir's eye. "The city fought for three weeks because we did not know why we were under attack. Finally, the elders surrendered and asked what Tossar wanted. They were informed that he wanted the Pholtana Shipyard, Pholt and his builders.

"A civil guard was placed around the yard by the city so we would not slip away. Tossar had been fighting the Anrysyas in the Zryn Autonomous Zone, fighting them hard because they had better ships. Ships from the Pholtana yard. Tossar was a better tactician so he was winning, but just barely. He decided he had to have ships like those the Anrysyas had and his way of getting them was to take the whole works.

"There were six of us working for Pholt: me, Dolo-fra, his uncle, Oza-Tol, Brnia, Jvria, and Doxska. We waited for Tossar in the main workshop. Pholt did all the talking and actually cut a pretty good deal for us..."

"Which was?" Lapham cut in.

"We got to live mainly." Hobie said. "We were allowed to stay in the yard and build starships, except now our only client was Tossar. He paid us, too, same as we'd get from other clients. But of course we had no other clients, that was the whole point."

"Were you his lover?"

"Yes."

"When did the affair begin?"

"That day. He raped me."

"Why?"

"He wanted to and Tossar was used to taking what he wanted."

Lapham waited a beat. "Did you resist him?"

Jir: "Objection. This is irrelevant."

"Overruled." Lord Suqiet wanted to hear the answer.

Lapham: "Did you resist?"

Hobie: "No."

Lapham: "Why not?"

Hobie: "I would be dead."

Lapham: "How do you know that?"

Hobie sighed. "It was my conclusion, based upon the data before me at that time that to resist Tossar would be dangerous and possibly fatal in that he was larger and stronger than I was then and now for that matter."

Lapham: "So what did you do?"

Hobie: "What did I ....?"

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is asking for detail that cannot possibly interest this court."

Lord Suqiet: "Sustained. Counsel, move along please."

Lapham: "Yes, sir. Captain Talljet, how long were you intimate with Tossar?"

Hobie: "Eleven years."

Lapham: "You were his victim for eleven years?"

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is speculating on the witness's condition without sufficient evidence."

Lord Suqiet: "Sustained. Commander, I have asked you to avoid inflammatory depictions. I ask you again. Next time I will fine you for contempt."

Lapham: "Yes, sir. Captain Talljet, why did you stay with Tossar for eleven years if, as you say, he raped you that first day?"

Hobie: "I had nowhere else to go."

Lapham: "Nowhere? Not back to Vulcan? Not to your brother in the Klingon Empire?"

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is browbeating the witness."

Lord Suqiet: "Sustained. Commander, control yourself."

Lapham: "Yes, sir. Captain Talljet, you had no other recourse but to stay with Tossar?"

Hobie: "Yes."

Lapham: "Why was that?"

Hobie: "Tossar wanted ships from us therefore the shipyard and the builders were very important to him. We were kept under close surveillance because we were valuable. And for me, there was nowhere to go, nowhere else I could build ships on this level. It was all I ever wanted to do. I did not want to leave it."

Lapham: "Even though Tossar 'oppressed' you?"

"In view of the fact that I lived and was building starships, sex with Tossar was an oppression I could cope with." Hobie thought back ruefully on how easy it had been to dominate Tossar once he ceased to fear him. "Life in non-aligned space is full of these little trade offs, Terran."

"The witness will confine himself to answering the questions posed him," Lord Suqiet growled. "How much more of this subject have you, Commander?"

Lapham: "Very little, sir. Captain Talljet, what was your business with Gatshira on Fobda?"

Hobie: "Nothing."

Lapham: "Nothing? You went to see him."

Hobie: "I went along with DveKrit, who had business with Gatshira. I never spoke to Gatshira."

Lapham: "I see. But you admit you were in Gatshira's office."

Hobie: "Yes, briefly with DveKrit."

Lapham: "What were you doing on Fobda?"

Hobie: "Picking up a load of cargo."

Lapham: "What kind of cargo?"

Hobie: "Raw ore for the shipyard."

Lapham: "Was there a manifest for it?"

Hobie: "No."

Lapham: "Why not?"

Hobie: "The mines on Fobda don't bother with such things and since the Pholtana shipyard was the client, I was just the gofer. No need for paperwork."

Lapham: "I see. Now, about Hypz. How did you know Hypz on Meza 6?"

Hobie: "Meza 6 was one of the main trade and refueling stops in that system. Hypz sought me out when he became the civil dictator because he wanted to stay on good terms with Tossar and he knew I was close to him. Hypz offered Tossar's fleet a really excellent deal in the way of docking, fueling and port taxes."

Lapham: "Why?"

Hobie: "Hypz wanted to consolidate his power by staying on good terms with the powerful fleet owners. He knew someday he would need them to connect with the other planets in the system since he didn't have his own fleet at that time."

Lapham: "And was the Tossarian fleet the only group Hypz had this agreement with?"

Hobie: "No, he also had it with Ibri Adniz, the Neqfarsian Imperial Trading League and I think some others, but I don't know who."

Lapham: "Was it, in your opinion, a good arrangement?"

Hobie: "It was okay."

Lapham: "Did Hypz ever try to change the arrangement? Get better terms for himself?"

Hobie: "No."

Lapham: "Did you ever try to better the terms for yourself?"

Hobie: "No."

Lapham: "You were content with a merely 'okay' arrangement?"

Hobie: "Yes."

Lapham paused just long enough to allow his skepticism on this answer to register in the courtroom but not so long as to provoke Lord Suqiet. "What were you doing on Meza 6 when Hypz was murdered?"

Hobie: "I was trying to convince Hypz to break with the Neqfarsian Imperial Trading League and apply for membership in the Federation."

Again, Lapham paused just long enough to allow his skepticism on this answer to register in the courtroom but not so long as to provoke Lord Suqiet. "Did you kill Hypz?"

Hobie: "No."

Lapham: "Do you know who did?"

Jir: "Objection. Counsel is asking the witness to speculate."

"Sustained." Lord Suqiet looked tired. "We'll recess now and return in two hours. The witness is dismissed until then." He watched Hobie leave the virtual room. "Counsel, approach the bench." He waited for Lapham and Jir, via holopic, to stand before him. "Counsel, this is tedious and I am unclear what you both are trying to accomplish with this witness. Commander, you have covered the same ground as was covered in the affidavits submitted to this court six weeks ago. Do you really think you will uncover anything new or catch Captain Talljet in a lie?" Lord Suqiet turned away before Lapham could answer. "SaJir, your objections are about fifty percent valid and are only slowing the process down and you know it. I say to both of you, if SaHobie were going to trip himself up, he would have done it in the pre-trial questioning and deposition process. So what is the point of this questioning?" He focused on Lapham: "Commander?"

"I believe there were facts that were not uncovered in the initial investigation, sir," Lapham said. "This line of questioning is crucial to the Federation's case against Captain Talljet."

"Do you plan to question this witness, SaJir?" Lord Suqiet asked.

"Yes, but not as thoroughly as my colleague, sir," Jir said dryly. "There are a few points in Captain Talljet's rise in the Tossarian fleet that need to be clarified. I can do so now, if that pleases the bench."

"If it does not, we will hear you examine the witness." Lord Suqiet leaned back to listen with his fellow judges. "Proceed, SaJir."

"Commander Lapham, in his initial argument before this court, has cast Captain Talljet as an opportunist who took over the Tossarian fleet for his own enrichment. The truth is more that Captain Talljet was, indeed, Tossar's victim for some time, however, as these things occur in the less civilized spaces beyond the Federation, Captain Talljet and Tossar, victim and victimizer, came to an understanding whereby Tossar, perceiving Captain Talljet's intelligence, entrusted certain parts of this enterprise to Captain Talljet. And then more and more, until the entire Tossarian empire was under Captain Talljet's control. It was simply that Tossar was attracted to Captain Talljet's beauty and held by his intelligence and effective management of the Tossarian assets.

"Captain Talljet and the shipbuilders were, in fact, Tossar's slaves, captives, what have you, and were not able to leave him of their own volition. Captain Talljet was simply making the best of a bad situation. That he and the Tossarians benefited from his innovation and savvy and perhaps, indirectly, the very fine education Captain Talljet received here on Vulcan, is merely a pleasant happenstance."

Jir didn't flinch before the trio of dubious Vulcan judicial faces above him.

"'Merely a pleasant happenstance' you say, SaJir?" Lord Suqiet queried dryly. "And you intend to illustrate this in your questioning of Captain Talljet?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what other points do you intend to illustrate?" Lord Suqiet asked.

"That Captain Talljet did not kill Gatshira on Fobda, that Captain Talljet did not murder Hypz on Meza 6, that Captain Talljet's actions in the Miska system were part of his mission from the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry and that Captain Talljet did not behave in any way inappropriately with Ensign Grushinkev."

"How so the last?" Lord Suqiet asked.

"Merely to restate what was stated in the affidavits," Jir said patiently. "That the child fell asleep in Captain Talljet's arms while being comforted and that was all there was to it."

The judges looked thoughtfully at Jir, then at each other.

"I believe we must hear all this testimony," Lord Suqiet said wearily.

Lady T'Pnov and Sjrika agreed. The courtroom was cleared and when the trial resumed, it was a long and tedious two days for everyone.

* * *

"When," McCoy asked, "will you have the bond with Jim removed, Spock?"

They stood on the same balcony of Spock's family villa that Hobie and Sarek had stood on so long ago, watching the shadows climb the mountains, as they had.

"Soon, Doctor. The right moment has not presented itself," Spock answered.

Kirk had been called into conference with Admiral Jessup, Commodore Yakolev and Ambassador Sdiz. The Klingons were making angry noises again about the seizure of Rovirin. Jessup wanted to hear the events on that planet from those who were actually there and/or responsible for them before he had his meeting with the Klingon Ambassador, Admiral KahbreKyrit and the Ambassador's undersecretary, Major KzinivDhalk.

"You're certainly not rushing into anything, Spock," McCoy observed crankily.

This was the first time Spock and McCoy had been alone since McCoy's arrival on Vulcan.

"No," Spock said, pulling the doctor into his arms. "It is not something to be rushed." He tilted McCoy's chin up and pressed a gentle kiss onto firmly closed lips. Spock leaned back to look into annoyed blue eyes. "You are not suffering from it, are you, Leonard?"

"In a way, Spock. I prefer my lovers to be fully conscious of their motivation. Jim thinks he's in love with me, wants to marry me." McCoy laid his head on the wide Vulcan shoulder. "He's not fully aware of what he's feeling, it's unfair to let him go on this way."

"How so?" Spock asked, stroking the human's warm brown hair.

"He's feeling some weird and amplified refraction of whatever ... " McCoy paused to grope for a word that did not have emotional connotations. "Whatever psychological responses you have for me."

"Jim does love you, Leonard," Spock said. "I can assure you of that, I know it through the bond."

'And when did you become an expert on love?' McCoy thought, but said quietly : "How do you know it's not a delusion? How does Jim know it's not a delusion when he's unaware of the bond? It's not fair or right to allow him to go on this way; not being able to make conscious, informed and free decisions."

"I understand, Leonard, be patient." Spock kissed his forehead. "Please."

"All right." McCoy gave in and changed the subject. "I've missed you, Spock. It seems like we haven't been together like this in months."

"It has been seven weeks and three days since we last made love."

"How many hours?"

"Fifteen." Spock tightened his arms on the chuckling human. "I have been distracted, I apologize."

"Don't apologize. We've all been distracted." McCoy leaned back. "But let's try to concentrate now." And pulled the Vulcan down into a long, sweet kiss.

Spock reluctantly broke the kiss to lead McCoy to a bedroom where he swiftly undressed his lover and himself.

They lay together, caressing as much of each other as they could reach. Spock leaned down to drag his tongue over one of McCoy's rock hard nipples. He ran his index finger gently over and around the other nipple and stroked lightly down to the doctor's erection.

McCoy tried to move them into a sixty-nine but Spock held him in place as he moved down to the doctor's hard cock, taking it gently in one hand and flicking the tip of his tongue closer and closer to the tip, finally just barely brushing it again and again. He stopped after a few seconds, he could tell McCoy was already close to climaxing. Spock moved until he was kneeling between McCoy's knees. He looked up at his lover, who lay panting with desire before him and panting even more as Spock ran his warm fingers up and down the doctor's rosy shaft. Spock leaned forward and took McCoy's balls in his mouth. He ran his tongue over and around the doctor's sac, sucking and kissing in a way he knew drove the human right to the edge. And held him there, one warm hand at the base of McCoy's cock, holding him back, the other gently probing the doctor's ass.

McCoy arched gently as he felt Spock's hand between his cheeks. He wanted the Vulcan inside him and reached beneath the pillow under his head to hand Spock the tube of lubricant.

Spock lightly swirled his tongue around the head of McCoy's cock as he squeezed some lube on his fingers. He slipped in one and then another in quick succession and was pleased to discover the doctor was ready. He rolled his lover forward and centered his slippery cock against the doctor's tight ring.

Spock slipped the head in and pushed forward. He met no resistance until his cock was in about four inches. Then it was as if he'd hit a wall. This had happened once or twice before with them and the solution Spock found was to lean forward and gently apply his teeth to one of McCoy's nipples. He moved to the other erect nub and soon felt the doctor relaxing enough for the Vulcan to hit bottom. He rested a moment to let McCoy adjust and used the time to explore the human's cool coral mouth with his tongue.

Resting for a moment, Spock visualized where the hard place behind McCoy's penis was. He pulled out slightly, aimed and pressed forward again. McCoy jumped and tightened and Spock knew his aim was true. Moving slowly but steadily, Spock increased his pace until they were thrashing together in a rhythmic knot of flesh.

All too soon, Spock felt his balls tightening as he approached his climax. He could feel McCoy's sac constricting as well. It was hard to tell if Spock's first shudder of orgasm set McCoy off or if McCoy's clenching in his own orgasm set Spock off. It did not matter; they came in unison and were both splashed by McCoy's cum between them.

Spock leaned forward, resting his chest against McCoy's as they caught their breaths. As usual, Spock recovered first and sat up, his cock still impaling McCoy. He reached down and carefully pulled his still hard cock out. He sat back and looked down at the doctor who still glowed from the pleasure of their sex. Spock leaned down and kissed McCoy's lips. McCoy wrapped his arms around the Vulcan's neck and held him in the kiss.

At length, Spock unfolded himself from McCoy's arms and reached for a towel to wipe them off.

"We should do this more often, Spock," McCoy said, lazily stretching out beside the Vulcan.

"I agree completely, Doctor."

* * *

"I really hope that did it," Jir said nervously in his office several hours after making his closing argument in court.

"We'll find out tomorrow, Jir," Storen observed.

"We made a good case, Jira," Smig told him. "Certainly better than the prosecution. And your closing was brilliant. Nearly poetry."

Jir had a tiny moment of cognitive dissonance over the emotions Smig's mixture of legal and theatrical images conjured up but recovered quickly. "I sincerely hope the judges think that too, Smig. I really do." Jir lay back and stared up at the canopy over his bed.

Storen and Smig recognized this as Jir's post event let down. It was a tired kind of funk Storen had seen Jir experience after a big case and Smig had seen after a long successful play run. They left him to it, as there was nothing anyone could do to lift it. They went to their offices and tidied up and went home - Storen to his family, Smig to the company. There was nothing to do but wait for the verdict and that's what they did.

* * *

"Well, we did the best we could with a rotten case." Sarfati observed to his colleagues as they packed up their files.

"Oh, it wasn't such as bad case. We might win yet, Nick," Charbon said, closing her overstuffed briefcase. "Jir picked us apart where we had weaknesses, I would have done the same in his place, but overall I think the judges will find Hobie guilty. At least of the acts of piracy. They cannot possibly think the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry would authorize such acts; they never have, they never will."

Lapham was exhausted and remained silent. He'd spent the morning making the most convincing closing argument he could. He'd spent the afternoon listening to Jir making brilliant arguments that shredded everything he'd said earlier in the day. Lapham was yet again glad this was a Vulcan judge trial because seeing Jir present his argument, the human knew he would have swayed any judge or jury from an emotion based species to his side. Lapham could only hope that the judges would see through Jir's very convincing argument to the fact that Hobie had committed crimes that remained crimes whether they were sanctioned by the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry or not.

"Do you think they bought Jir's argument that the four acts of piracy did not occur in Federation space and were therefore not subject to Federation law?" Charbon asked Sarfati, their piracy expert.

"I wonder, it was a helluva argument he made. I still think Robert convinced them that Captain Talljet's actions were illegal, wherever and whenever they occurred. The Miska system has been a member of the Federation for a few years now and the general feeling is that those responsible for the crimes there should be prosecuted." Sarfati slumped a little. They were all tired.

"Such as Ibri Adniz, to whom we offered immunity?" Charbon observed bitterly. She had been against that from the start.

Sarfati scowled and didn't answer.

Lapham rose. "That is a subject for a day when we are not so tired." He picked up his briefcase. "Let's see what our judges say tomorrow."

"If they convict do you think we'll still be invited to the Sas' party tomorrow night?" Sarfati asked.

"If they convict, I certainly won't go and suggest neither of you do," Charbon said, leaving the room.

Her colleagues thought that was a sound idea and followed her down the hall and out of the building.

* * *

"Shiiiiooow, Nolo? (Whaddya think about the trial?)" Maja keened to his brother in the prison.

"Hochofedra," Hobie shrugged at him. "It's up to the judges now."

"Hate this waiting, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Then I've a question to distract you a little, 'Harold,'" Maja said. "How come Ling and I didn't know about you and Sarek?"

"Because it was none of your business, 'Mikey'."

"Because we're stupid?"

Hobie rolled his eyes and wondered if Maja was really forty and not fourteen. "No, because you were little."

"But Jir knew."

"Well, yes, he did but only because we're closer in age and I needed some advice. You remember what a sexpert he was, even at that age," Hobie said.

"Ah, true enough, he was a little slut."

"I hope we're both shielding if you're going to say things like that, Maja."

"Of course. I certainly don't want Jir to beat me up for telling the truth."

"There are things between you and Ling that Jir and I don't know," Hobie said, deciding he'd had enough of the previous subject. Besides, if he was convicted tomorrow, he would not be around to keep Jir from beating up Maja for calling him a slut.

"Yes, but not hardly as interesting as you and Sarek."

Hobie laughed and decided to swerve onto another subject: "How are my children?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Bot is studying quite nicely and is very well liked at Middle School #7. He excels in mathematics, history and literature. We help him in languages, science and grammar. He was invited to spend the weekend with the family of one of his schoolmates at their villa in the mountains. Everybody had a good time and he's been invited back."

"Bot's fitting in better than you did at his age."

"It's his TossarCheq that makes him so attractive," Maja observed. "He has that air of being the most amazing thing you will ever see in your pathetic lives so pay attention now, right now." Maja paused to listen to Hobie laugh at his perfect summation of his youngest child. "It works, too. He's doing just fine here."

"And Lyra?"

"Your little Lyra is so self absorbed, he's hardly noticed he's on a new planet," Maja told him. "Really, Hobie, we had SiVrisa, you remember him from Western Vul Prep, no - at the Sas wondering if there was something wrong with the child because Lyra seems a thousand miles away in class."

"Lyra is always like that," Hobie said. "You have to be careful because it seems like he's not attending but he really is. Somewhere he got the idea it was impolite to concentrate on what's in front of you. I've no idea where that comes from but I've learned to live with it."

"We all have, Hobie." Maja assured him. "And SiVrisa was relieved when Lyra scored perfectly on his first test and wrote a sharp little essay later on."

"Has he friends? He doesn't come out of his shell much, you know."

"He's brought one or two Vulcans home to play and make art in the Commune since I've been here," Maja said. "Lyra's fine. Academically, he only needs a little help with math. Otherwise, he's doing quite well and seems to be enjoying himself in school."

"And Polmira?"

"He's fine."

"More detail, please, Maja."

"Polmira and Farro are in the same class at W. Vul. Prep. and both are enjoying learning there. Polmira likes the new place and the new beings around him. Of course, he loves the weather here, you know he was always a little chilly everywhere else."

"His studies are ...?"

"Oh, well, he's good at the same things as always: everything except drawing. We're still working on that in the Commune. He's well liked at school, too."

"Yes, I've heard. What's all this about Prince Strig?"

"They're friends."

"That's not what Sbat said when he was here the other day."

"Sbat! Doesn't Sbat look great! Who'da thunk that odd kid would grow up to be such a mensch!"

"Maja."

"Okay. Polmira and Strig have become very attached to each other. They are heavily chaperoned, very heavily chaperoned - the Sas learned their lesson about inattention and teenage lust with us."

"According to Sbat, Clan T'Pira is contemplating making us a decent offer for him."

"Concubinage? Forget it."

"I said decent. A full Federation marriage, full property rights, even the bonding."

"A male male bonding?"

"Sbat says it was done in Surak's time but fell out of use as the matriarchy became ascendant."

"As many other fine things fell out of use as the matriarchy became ascendant. And they plan to revive that for Polmira?" Maja was rather impressed.

"Yes."

"So everything old is new again."

"What do you think?"

"I think Polmira is too young to commit to anyone or anything. If he and Strig are so fond of one another then they will be willing to wait a few years. Like ten or fifteen to make their commitments. Don't you, Nolo?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, I think so." Maja continued. "Polmira is reluctant to talk about it but he did say to Farro that he liked Strig very much. Any idea why is Clan T'Pira in such a hurry?"

"Perhaps they're worried that Polmira will be removed from Vulcan when my trial is ended," Hobie said.

"A valid concern."

"And they don't want to lose their best shot at connecting to the House of Surak."

"Ah. I was wondering why Polmira's stock suddenly went up and then I found out that even T'Pau has recognized Polmira as a member of the House of Surak. We have Lady Amanda to thank for that."

"Tisn't a bad thing, Maja. If the verdict goes against me, you, Jir and Ling will have to look after my brats and my fleet as well as your own households. I wouldn't mind being transported so much if I knew my children were safe and happy here or somewhere else. Here suits me in some ways because I know it so well."

"That's all that's ever mattered to you, isn't it Hobie? That those you love are safe and happy?"

Hobie nodded.

"Well, don't worry, Nolo." Maja blinked back his tears. "Everything will be okay. However the verdict goes. I swear that to you on my life, my honor and the lives of all our enemies."

"Maja," Hobie laughed. "You simply out-Klingon the Klingons!"

* * *

"Remain standing," Lord Suqiet said as he, Lady T'Pnov and Sjrika settled themselves to deliver Hobie's verdict.

"As we are all aware," Lord Suqiet began, "this has been a complex and difficult trial. Coming to our verdict has been no less complex. We commend both Prosecution and Defense for their presentation of the evidence and the formation of their arguments. We will not dwell on certain unfortunate and unrestrained behavior in this courtroom as the perpetrators have been fined and reprimanded for it.

"In the matter of the rape of Jaroslav Tikel, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to inconclusive evidence.

"In the matter of the rape of Dmitri Grushinkev, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to inconclusive evidence.

"In the matter of the murder of Gatshira, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence.

"In the matter of the murder of Hypz, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence.

"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet boarded and took the cargo from a transport ship in orbit around Meza 6 during the civil unrest there, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient evidence.

"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet attacked, boarded and looted an Ithintian private freighter carrying dilithium crystals en route to Yksta 8, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient evidence.

"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet laid siege to the port of Griza on Frinta and stole the contents of several warehouses there, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient evidence.

"In the charge of piracy that Hobie Talljet engaged in a prolonged skirmish with the USS Praga, thereby endangering the ship and crew of that vessel, we find Hobie Talljet not guilty due to insufficient and inconclusive evidence."

Jir, elated out of his mind, suppressed a smile when he heard Hobie heave a tiny sigh of relief.

"In the matter of the three hundred and six outstanding parking tickets. As you know we have consolidated these warrants into a failure to appear and resisting arrest charge and in that matter we find you guilty and will sentence you now. In lieu of ten years confinement in transportation, you are sentenced to three months probation on Vulcan and a fine of one hundred thousand credits, payment to be arranged within the next ninety days."

"THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS!" Jir could not contain himself.

"Bailiff," Lord Suqiet said calmly. "SaJir is again fined five hundred credits for contempt of court. Our written judgment will be on file with the Federation Ministry of Justice before it closes today. This court," Lord Suqiet, Lady T'Pnov and Sjrika rose, "is adjourned."

* * *

"A hundred thousand credits!" Jir fumed in the prison hallway where Hobie was now a free male. "It's insane!"

"Jir..."

"It's an outrage!"

"Jir..."

"I'll appeal!"

"JIR!"

"WHAT?!"

"Hochofedra, Noli," Hobie shrugged and embraced his brother. "You did it, Jira, I'm free."

"You're stuck here for three months and owe a hundred thousand credits, Hobie." Jir said far too reasonably. "Free? More or less. I still say it's an outrage."

"Try to be more positive, Noli." Hobie looked around at his former guards. "How do I get out of here?"

"It will take a few hours to process you out but you'll be on the street before dark," Spyrin, one of the prison bulls, said.

"Well, that's good," Hobie observed. "Where're you off to, Jir?"

"My office is having a little victory party..."

"What if you'd lost?"

"Then we'd be having an appeal strategy party," Jir said dryly. "So I'll go there and be worshipped along with Storen and Smig. The whole firm did an incredible job on this case for you, Hobie, I hope you know that."

"I do, Jir, I do and if I could thank them all I would."

"Well, thank the ones you see at the party tonight. Most of the firm's been invited."

"Oh, yes. The party. Must I go? I'd rather spend the evening with you Nolis, the children, the Sas, the Commune, my crews, the ..."

"You must go," Jir told him. "This party is in honor of your liberation. Ling told me the Sas have invited hundreds and hundreds of beings to this gathering."

Hobie stopped in the middle of the hallway. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"It's what Ling told me," Jir said, heading for the attorney exit. "Come along and find out." And he was gone.

* * *

"Was that odd or am I just very tired?" Lapham asked Charbon and Sarfati in the lift.

"It was odd," Charbon assured him.

"Very odd," Sarfati concurred.

"I think the judges were unable to convict on the evidence we presented..." Charbon began.

"Because it sucked," Sarfati clarified.

"But they didn't want Talljet to get off scot free," she continued, ignoring the lieutenant. "So they convicted on the only charges they could but slammed him as hard as they could. Their way of saying 'we can't convict you of any of it but we think you are guilty of most of it.' That outrageous sentence for parking violations almost makes it a draw. Why else do you think Jir hit the ceiling?"

"Hardly a draw, Lise," Lapham said. "If we'd gotten a conviction, Talljet would have been transported for life."

"All right then," Charbon conceded. "That outrageous sentence for parking violations almost makes me feel better about losing."

"I'm with you on that," Sarfati said.

"Yes, me too," Lapham said. "Are you going to this party tonight?"

"Of course," Charbon said. "It would be churlish not to."

"I hope it's not going to be one of those deadly boring Vulcan receptions," Lapham said.

"Likely not," Charbon said. "Lots of Star Fleeters, the Gozshedrefreingin Commune, the Klingon Embassy, Jira Krinat's company and many of Hobie's buccaneers are invited as well as the creme de la creme of Vulcan society. Dull, I think it will not be."

"How do you know all this, Lise?"

"Admrial Jessup told me. He got it directly from Master Ghet, over lunch, with Sarek."

"Now, there's a lunch I'm sorry I missed," Lapham murmured.

"Well, don't despair, we are invited to dine with the judges tomorrow night," Sarfati reminded them. "Jir, Storen and Smig are also invited. I imagine we all have things to say to each other, off the record."

"I know I do," Lapham said, stepping out of the lift. "Is this a Vulcan tradition, for the judges to invite the attorneys after a tough case?"

"I think not," Charbon said. "But I think these judges might want to talk about the trial, off the record, as well."

"Perhaps," Lapham said. "See you tonight then?"

"See you tonight."

* * *

Jir arrived at his office and found the party already in full swing.

"Sobora," he drew his assistant aside, eyeing the crowd. "Who are all these people? I don't remember the firm being this big."

"Most are our attorneys, some are from other offices in the building, some are from the Legal Institute, some of them - I've no idea," Sobora told him. "But all are here to applaud your victory." He nodded affably and headed back to the bar.

'I rather think they're all here to cadge free drinks and snacks, more like it,' Jir thought sourly. He was tired and just wanted to acknowledge his accolades and have a nap before he went to face the Sas, who had become testy over his nonappearance at the mansion.

"SaDrosta! How ever are you?" Jir called across the room. He was delighted to see his old dance partner in the throng. SaDrosta had become a very famous dancer since Jir's departure from the Vulcan dance milieu.

"Well, Jira, well. Congratulations on Hobie's liberation. It will be delightful to have another decent lyre player in town for even three months," SaDrosta said in his well measured but rhythmic phrases. "And you, Jira, now that you've got that tarsome trial out of the way, why don't we give a recital together? I understand you dance almost as well as you used to."

"I dance better than I used to," Jir shot back.

"Perhaps," SaDrosa drawled. "How can one know? No one's seen you dance on a Vulcan stage in twenty years." He drifted off toward the bar after assuring Jir that he would see him later.

Jir spent the next hour or so milling through the crowd, accepting toasts and compliments with the restrained, well bred grace the Sas had spent his adolescence dinning into him, until he could finally reach his office unobserved. He slipped inside, locked the door and ripped off all his clothes, flung himself on his bed and fell into a profound doze. He didn't wake until Sobora brought him some tea and a sandwich and told him it was time for him to go home and dress for Hobie's party.

"Oh," Jir said vaguely, sipping his Relan tea. "Thank you." 'Home?' he thought ruefully. 'Home, whatever is that?' But he got dressed and took a taxi to the Sa mansion anyway.

* * *

"We'll miss the music, Hobie," Spyrin commented as he escorted Hobie to the prison gate.

"You've got it on the surveillance tape," Hobie said, good naturedly. "You can play it when you get lonely for me."

The bull raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, SaHobie."

Hobie raised his split fingers. "Peace and long life, Spyrin." He stepped out of the prison and did what Hobie often did at this time of year on Vulcan: He shied away from T'Khut looming over him. 'You'd think I could get used to that fucking flying rock,' he thought grimly, wondering that she could still startle him so. 'I'm back, baby, d'ya miss me?' and he stepped into the waiting taxi that would take him to the Sa mansion.

* * *

"Bravo, Jir," Amanda said upon hearing the verdict announced.

* * *

Polmira had simply joyously thrown himself into Strig's arms.

* * *

Maja let his shoulders slump and relaxed for the first time in what seemed like weeks.

* * *

"Jir and his team must be amazing lawyers," McCoy observed to Kirk.

"Yes," Kirk mused, drawing his tongue along the doctor's collarbone before heading south. "Lapham, Charbon and Sarfati are legends in the Fleet."

* * *

"WHERE THE HELL ARE WE TO DIG UP ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND CREDITS?" Ling howled at Stez and flung herself into that long suffering Vulcan's arms.

"I believe we might sell one of Hobie's ships to raise the money," Stez comforted.

"Oh, what good thinking, Stez." Ling perked up. "My life would be an acid bath without you."

Stez merely arched an eyebrow and made no rejoinder to Ling's outrageous statement, as usual.

* * *

Hobie Talljet was possessed of a certain bad boy charm and a lanky stride that caused the Klingons, among others, to award him their highest praise: He could make the dead cum.

These graces, however, were completely lost on Svurek as Hobie, finding the garden door locked and a note on it directing him to use the front door, stood before him, trying to gain admittance to his former residence.

"So," Svurek snarled at his favorite Talljet. "You're out."

"Yes." Hobie agreed blandly, wondering what the hell was going on. He was fond of Svurek but was clueless as to why the old Vulcan was blocking the door.

"And you're back."

"Yes."

"And you want to come in here."

"Yes."

Svurek took a long breath through his nose and centered his energy. "You have behaved disgracefully in and out of this house, SaHobie. You were given every opportunity to make a success of yourself and you tossed it aside to pursue your own pleasure. You wasted your youth and beauty on that wretch Sarek, you flung yourself away in the hinterspace, you consorted with scoundrels, scalawags and persons of no character and now you've come back and want admittance." Svurek paused dramatically. "All of the above can, in time, be forgiven, but, SaHobie, I don't know if this ancient house can overlook your most heinous crime, the worst that you've become."

"What?" Hobie asked with some anxiety, wondering if he'd become something new on the way here from the prison.

"A convicted," Svurek paused to let that sink in, "Parking Violator."

"Ummmm," Hobie murmured after a moment of contrite silence, eyes lowered. "Yes. Very bad. I'm sorry." He looked up with his most Vulcan-melting look. "Can I come in now? Please?"

"Enter," Svurek intoned and stood aside.

"Ah, listen, Svurek." Hobie leaned down to the Vulcan's ear. "Can you pay the taxi? I, ah, don't have any money."

"Chiseler," he droned but went out and paid the driver anyway.

* * *

Hobie found his brothers and sister upstairs in their old playroom (Maja's former and current studio), having a serious discussion about whether they were going to attend the party or not.

"How'd it go with Svurek?" Jir asked him.

"All my flaws were neatly laid out for my inspection," Hobie said. "I apologized for being all he said and he let me in. How'd you get in?"

"He called me a slut, a shyster and a disgrace to the Sa name ...."

There was a quick chorus of 'me too' for that last insult.

"I erred, however," Jir continued. "I told him it was not possible to disgrace the Sa name anymore."

"Jir!" Maja was scandalized.

"Listen, Noli, I just won the trial of the century and I'm still in high legal mode. D'you think I'm going to be abused by that door minding fossil." He watched them all nod yes. "Okay, so I caved in like rotten fruit and apologized for being everything he said I was and insulted, chastened and contrite I was allowed to enter these hallowed portals or whatever. Hochofedra." He shrugged and flung himself into a chair.

"What, like, is the deal with Svurek?" Hobie asked Maja and Ling.

"It's a very old Sa custom," Ling said. "One must really want to come in here to endure Svurek, and his father before him and his father before him and his father before him, and..."

"It's incredible anyone would want to come in here at all," Jir observed.

"Well, Nolos, it's just one of those very old and very weird Sa customs from a time when it was not safe to allow any but a sworn ally into their home, near their women and children," Maja told them.

"Considering what brilliant seducers Sarek and son turned out to be," Jir observed, "perhaps it's not a bad custom after all."

"That reminds me, Jir," Ling said suddenly. "Speaking of old weird customs. The Sas say they sequester their women and that now includes me. I think I need a lawyer."

"I think you just need to ignore them," Jir counseled her. "Have you been living here since you arrived?"

"No, Stez and I are in our townhouse on the Strand."

"Well, stay there, little sister," Jir laughed. "If the Sas lock you up, I promise, we'll come rescue you."

"I'll hold you to that, Nolo." Ling snuggled up next to him.

They listened to the commotion in the house for a while. The band was setting up, the caterers were working in the huge kitchens, the hired footmen were arranging the tables and chairs for the sit down dinner, the children were running amok, trying to get a look at the proceedings before they were hustled off to bed.

"Why not attend, Maja?" Hobie asked. "It's going to be the party of the century."

"Because it's supposed to be for you and it turns out not to be," Maja explained. "The Sas are using your 'liberation' to slap everybody's face. It's the first time the house has been in working order in over a hundred years and they want to flaunt their wealth..."

"What's left of it," Ling interjected.

"Hochofedra, Ling," Maja shrugged. "And flaunt us as well. I will not be put on display."

Jir, who lived to be put on display, could not let this pass. "How silly you are, Maja. Hobie's liberation is a great event and this party will mark it as such. I'm inclined not to attend for different reasons."

"Which are less silly than mine?" Maja snarled.

"Of course," Jir drawled. "I haven't anything to wear."

"What! You have plenty of clothes."

"I didn't have time to have anything 'new' made."

"Oh, really." Maja rolled his eyes.

"Well, I've got the same problem, Maja," Hobie said. "You'll notice I'm still wearing my prison romper."

"I'm sure we can find you something, Hobie," Ling said. "My problem with this party is that it's a waste of money and we need money, badly. I would have a hard time, eating, drinking and being merry down there knowing what hell will break loose when the bills come in."

"We financed it with the art sale," Maja reminded her.

"And now you don't want to go?" Jir asked. "Maja, your Commune paid for this romp, you might as well enjoy it."

"I'll think about it," Maja sulked. "I will, however, never believe SaCriz's stated motive for this party."

"Which is?" Hobie asked, he liked SaCriz a lot.

"That it is to mend any negativity your trial has engendered among Vulcans," Maja said.

"That is thin," Jir cooed. "The most absolute way to engender negativity among Vulcans is to put them in the same room together."

"With a dance band, yet," Ling observed. "This party could start the War of Logical Aggression, Part II."

"Lord, that might be reason enough to attend," Hobie laughed with his brothers and sister.

Maja looked at the falling light and knew time grew short. "Look, y'all, let's go round up the children and get them settled before too many Vulcans get past Svurek."

"That fossil will be mute from insulting so many Vulcans in one evening," Jir observed.

"He'll love it," Ling put in.

"As I was saying," Maja said pointedly to Jir and Hobie. "Your children have not seen you in many, many weeks, if not months. Let's go, Talljets." And it was a very happy reunion indeed for the JetCheqs and their fathers, uncles and aunt. At least it was once Jir's children got over the shock of their parent's shaved head.

* * *

"Where are they?" SiJidi, referring to the Talljets, asked SaCriz.

"Sulking in their playroom."

"That's not unusual," Sriri observed. "They sulked there quite a lot when they were younger."

"What is unusual in this case," Spaga said, "is that we've invited hundreds to a party in SaHobie's honor and they are sulking in their playroom." Spaga could not be more accurate on the guest count because they had long ago lost track of whom they'd asked.

They all looked over at SaBrzia, who was seated listening serenely to the throngs of Vulcans, Klingons and Star Fleeters milling about in the restored Sa ballroom.

SiJidi moved to the old man's side. "What should we do, SaBrzia? The Talljets won't come down for the party."

"Then we'll have the party in honor of their absence," SaBrzia said serenely. "STRAT!" he bellowed, knowing that a) Strat was somewhere in the room and b) that he was a musician and therefore could talk to other musicians.

Strat bounded to the old Vulcan's side, as he had when he was sixteen. "Yes, sir?"

"Go tell these musicians to start playing."

"Yes, sir." Strat hoped he could - they were Jir's musicians from his company. He found McCoy there, talking to the lanky humanoid lyre player Jir had picked up in the cafe on Bharselis.

"Oh, yeah," the musician drawled to the doctor. "That was one wii-iild night. Very very that Jira gave me and the band a job after the cafe burned to the ground."

"Excuse me," Strat said. "The hosts have asked me to ask you to start playing."

"We need Jira to start us," the humanoid said coolly.

Strat came as close as Vulcans ever get to despair.

"You know," McCoy said pleasantly. "If you did start and Jir didn't like it, you can say I asked you to start."

"Are you asking us to start, Terran?"

"Well, yes; I am. I very much enjoyed your playing on Bharselis. I'm quite looking forward to hearing it again."

"Well, all right, then!" The lyre player sat back with the band. "Let's go, lads." Sharply accented but lyrical music jerked across the ballroom floor.

McCoy nodded graciously in response to Strat's grateful look and went off to look over the crowd.

~

"SPOCK!"

That Vulcan moved swiftly from his mother's side to SaGolia's. You went, and quickly, when SaGolia called you or she would call you until everybody within earshot was deaf.

"This is an Imman, Spock, is it not?" SaGolia asked with emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am." Spock held out his curved hands, palms down.

SaGolia snapped her fan shut and placed her curved hands beneath his, palms up. They moved off, gracefully, onto the floor. Others followed their example.

~

"What's that music?" Maja, slumped in a chair, asked.

"Dunno," Hobie said. "Sounds like a very fucked up Imman."

"It's my band," Jir told them, annoyed that his band had started without him. "Playing a very hep scat Imman. Very hip, very moderne."

They listened for a moment longer.

"Not all things improve with changing, Jir," Ling observed mildly.

~

"Where are the Talljets?" T'Paga asked Prince Sbat, who'd stepped over to say hello to his old playmate after settling Princess T'Pira next to T'Pau.

"No idea," Sbat said distractedly. "There's T'Pring."

T'Paga glanced over at her former friend and wondered if this would not be a good night to make peace with her. After all, everything seemed to be working out for the best. Somehow.

~

"There's T'Pring," Kirk said quietly to McCoy.

Seeing her, McCoy had a rush of protective feeling for Spock, who was oblivious to everything but the life and death Imman he was dancing with SaGolia.

'I wonder if that explains the lack of Talljets in the room,' Kirk mused in McCoy's silence.

~

"This fucked up Imman is growing on me," Maja, slumped against Hobie on the purple couch, said softly. The fucked up Imman reminded him of the Shaakar music he and Sarek had danced to on Imk. 'Was that only a year or so ago or was it another life?' he wondered.

"Yes, me too," Jir said, wistfully looking at Maja's mural of all their friends and wondering which ones were downstairs right now.

"Too bad you don't have anything to wear," Ling reminded him.

~

"Good evening, Admiral," Jessup said to the Klingon ambassador, KahbreKyrit of Klingon, at the bar.

"Admiral." The Klingon nodded graciously. "Are you enjoying the evening?"

"Thus far, sir," Jessup assured him. "Certainly more than I enjoyed my afternoon." He and KahbreKyrit had gone round and round about Rovirin and still no solution was reached.

"Let us enjoy this evening, Admiral," KahbreKyrit said gruffly. "Tomorrow the Hierophant Kroldt will arrive and hopefully a more fruitful negotiation will be possible."

~

"Maja," Jir said suddenly, urgently and compellingly. "Lend me something to wear." Jir started ripping off his very staid Vulcan robe.

Maja shrugged and went to his closet. He looked over its meager contents: two cassocks, a tunic and some leggings. He opened another section and pulled out a brightly painted, intricately pleated skirt of silky, billowy material. "You'll have to settle with Tien, Nolo, I made this for his birthday next week. Here," Maja said, handing his naked brother a dark teal tunic. "This goes with it."

"Not my color," Jir said, tucking the tunic into the skirt and admiring himself in the glass nonetheless. "But I bet it looks smashing on Tien."

"Poor Tien," Ling said.

"I'll take him to my tailor for his birthday," Jir snapped. "Okay, what can we find for Hobie?"

"I'll wear my prison romper," Hobie said.

"Might as well, it's actually rather flattering." Jir turned to his younger brothers. "Ling?"

"This Vulcan robe will have to do, NoloJir."

"It does." Jir zeroed in on Maja. "And you, MajaYaja?"

"I'll stick to my cassock."

"Okay." Jir straightened his shoulders. "Hochofedra." He shrugged. "Hemzjit."

Even though the party was not even half way to the arc of its trajectory their entrance was hardly noticed by the revelers.

~

Hobie and Jir made a beeline for T'Paga.

"You don't mind if I dance with your wife, d'ya Spoda?" Hobie asked, edging Jir out by a hair.

"I want to dance with T'Paga!" Jir snapped.

"I would like to dance with her myself," Spoda said, taking T'Paga's arm and leading her to the floor.

"Wanna dance, Jir?" Hobie asked after a moment of awkward silence.

"I'm here, I might as well."

~

"What is Hobie wearing?" SerNera asked Smvit.

"I've no idea," Smvit answered. "It looks like some sort of coverall, doesn't it?"

~

"Would you dance with me, Vulcan?" Major KzinivDhalk, in his perfect Vulcan, asked SaDrosta. "I have seen you dance in concert, it would be an honor to dance with you."

SaDrosta was never one to refuse a nicely phrased and grammatical request. Not a big fan of Klingons, he did not find this one particularly repulsive. "Do you know how to dance an Imman, Klingon?" He looked up at Kziniv half challengingly, extending his wrists.

"We Klingons have a dance that is very similar," Kziniv said, pulling SaDrosta into his arms. "It's called a Shakaar." And swept the Vulcan away without protest.

~

"A Shakaar, a Shakaar!" Maja chanted, seeing Kziniv and SaDrosta glide across the floor. "Dance with me Master Khat!"

And they did. They were an inspiration to many other couples, who switched from Immans to Shakaars.

~

"Allow me to congratulate you, Ambassador." Sdiz said to Sarek, standing at one of the bars.

"On what?" Sarek noted that the Sas were emptying at least half of their excellent cellar.

"On succeeding where I did not."

"Clarify."

"In seducing SaHobie."

"Indeed." Sarek held the Vulcan's eye. "Thank you."

~

"I never knew Vulcans and Klingons could dance that close," Jessup observed to Hobie after he'd introduced himself. They stood watching Kziniv and SaDrosta making diplomatic, if not dance, history.

"Depends on the Vulcan and the Klingon. Those two happen to look very good together," Hobie said. "Speaking of looking good, Admiral, where's Chekov?"

"Chekov?"

"Yes, Chekov. That pretty little navigator from the bridge of the Enterprise," Hobie persisted. "He's exactly what's missing from this party."

"Perhaps he wasn't invited."

"An outrage!"

Jessup narrowed his eyes at him, considering. "I'll see what Kirk can do. Excuse me."

"Absolutely." Hobie wandered away with a lighter heart.

~

"C'mon T'Pring, dance with me," Jir said bluntly. "You're here, you might as well."

"As you wish, Jir," she said, extending her hands, claws (sorry, palms) up.

~

"Chekov?" McCoy asked, after Kirk flagged him off the dance floor where he'd been Shakaaring with Grace Blyton.

"Yes. Jessup wants Chekov here, dressed up and looking good, right now, if not sooner." Kirk looked at Spock, who'd just joined them. "Do we know where Chekov is, Spock?"

"He went on shore leave six hours ago."

"Great," McCoy grumbled. "That means he'll be drunk as a skunk and probably getting laid in the Port by now."

Kirk looked at his two closest friends, trusted officers and the most resourceful beings he knew. "Go. Get him."

~

"Sarek had no qualms about fathering a child with your brother, Jir," T'Pring observed in her usual blunt instrument fashion as they danced.

"Oh, well, T'Pring. I don't see you and Stonn exactly repopulating the planet," Jir said offhandedly. His guard was down so when T'Pring raked his face with her nails, he hardly had time to react. Trying to shield his eyes, he dragged the struggling female to the floor with him.

Hobie, Maja and Ling flung themselves through the crowd and separated them.

~

"What's going on over there?" Montana Wolfe wondered.

"I've no idea, Commodore," Yakolev told her.

~

Hobie applied himself to healing the cuts on Jir's cheeks and forehead. "Had to go right for a nerve, didn't you, Jir?"

"She started it."

"Oh, please." Ling rolled her eyes, not in solidarity with T'Pring but in exasperation with Jir, who knew or should know this Vulcaness well enough not to provoke her.

"Well," Jir muttered. "She did."

~

"Bored yet?" Charbon asked Lapham.

"Heavens, no!"

~

"What goes on?" SaBrzia asked, hearing the commotion.

"T'Pring attacked Jir," SiRond told him, trying to see into the swirling mass around T'Pring and Jir. "Or vice versa."

~

Seeing Stonn rush up, T'Pring's father rose to go to her defense.

SaGolia laid a hand on his arm. "Let the children settle it among themselves, Lord Svreg."

Wisely, he sat back down.

~

The Klingons were highly amused by the wrangle and wished it had lasted longer.

"Hey!" one of them called. "Does that little girl need a big knife? I've got one she can use!" And laughed in the most offensive Klingon way possible.

Maja rose up to his full height: "Shut up, you fucking stupid Klingons! I've never heard anything so fucking stupid in my life!" he yelled in his most barracks Klingonese.

~

SaBrzia raised his voice to be heard over the din:

"Children, it's a big house again. Quiet corners can be found for all of you, if necessary.

"And SaMaja, watch your language. If you're going to swear at the Klingons, decline your nouns properly."

~

Jir, healed and recovered, signaled the band to start playing again. "Come on, T'Pring, hochofedra," he shrugged. "Let's finish this dance and be friends. Anything else is a waste of time."

She agreed and peace was restored.

For the time being.

~

Tracing the ensign's FIS (Federation Identifier Signal), Spock and McCoy found Chekov passed out over a table in one of the medium reputable bars in the Port of Vulcan. Spock draped the drunken ensign over his shoulders and they transported directly into sickbay where McCoy proceeded to sober Chekov up with his time tested methods.

After pumping Chekov's stomach and shooting him full of vitamins and mild stimulants, McCoy sent him for a run around the track. When the sweaty ensign returned to sickbay, McCoy drew out a length of tubing and told him to drop his pants.

"Why?" the thus far cooperative ensign asked dubiously.

"I'm going to give you a high colonic," McCoy said soothingly. "After that and a shower, you'll feel very pure."

Chekov, not sure he wanted to be so pure, could not but allow the doctor to proceed. The request from Hobie, via Admiral Jessup, via Kirk, via Spock had been carefully explained to him and Chekov felt the honor of the Enterprise, perhaps the entire Fleet depended upon his actions tonight. It was, in many ways, an honor, however embarrassing. Or uncomfortable. Or...?...!

~

Leaving Chekov in McCoy's very capable hands, Spock had gone to the ensign's cabin to choose something suitable for the young Terran to wear. He found that Chekov had nothing suitable to wear. Spock noticed a package addressed to the ensign from a very expensive and fashionable Shirkar tailor on Chekov's desk. The transporter room personnel had made a notation that the package, scanned for safety and determined harmless, had arrived after Chekov had gone on leave. He opened the card attached.

It read: "Dear Chekov, I dearly hope that you will enjoy wearing this when you meet my brother, Hobie, tonight at the Sas. Very truly yours and LLAP, M. Talljet."

Spock wondered if Maja's second sight extended to knowing Chekov's size as well. It did not, but Ling's computer base dug that information out of the Star Fleet provisioning records, so the belted, velvet trimmed long sleeved tunic and tight leggings in jet Ozrian silk and the low heeled pumps did, in fact, fit perfectly.

~

"How do you feel, Ensign?" Spock asked the sobered up and glowing youngster as he and McCoy entered his cabin.

"Very pure."

Spock ignored McCoy's smug smile and held out the elegant clothing to Chekov. "You can wear these."

~

"Very becoming, Chekov, like they were made for you," McCoy said when the fully dressed ensign stood before them.

"Yes." Spock looked at his wrist chrono. They had accomplished their mission in one hour and fifteen minutes. According to Spock's plan, they were fifteen minutes behind schedule.

McCoy noticed the Vulcan's microscopic consternation. "Come on, Cinderella," he said to Chekov. "Let's go to the ball."

~

"That," Maja said, seeing Chekov for the first time as the ensign, McCoy and Spock entered the ballroom, "is what all the fuss is about?"

"Yes." Ling said, noting that Chekov was as adorable as ever. "Smashing outfit. Someone with exquisite taste and an eye for what pleases Hobie must have chosen it for him."

Maja rolled his eyes and said nothing. After all, Hobie had been through so much, he deserved a little treat and Maja felt nothing was too much trouble to please his Nolo. He'd figure out how to pay the tailor and shoemaker bill - later.

~

"Ah, there you are." Hobie beamed as he made straight for Chekov.

Chekov shrank back a little; he was unprepared for how overwhelming the pirate was going to be in person. A little taller than Spock, Hobie seemed gigantic and terrifying to the ensign. Chekov calmed somewhat when Spock put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 'I can do this, I know I can do this. Whatever this is,' Chekov thought wildly.

"No, no, no. Don't be nervous, Chekovfara," Hobie soothed, reaching for the youngster. "Come dance a Shakaar with me and you'll feel much better." He winked at Spock and glided away with his arms full of Chekov.

~

'That,' Jessup thought, seeing Chekov for the first time as the ensign, McCoy and Spock entered the ballroom, 'is what all the fuss is about?' Shaking his head, he watched Hobie Shakaar away with the youngster.

~

"Oh, there's Chekov," Carlos Sunna pointed out to Thomas Albany. "The object of Hobie Talljet's desire."

"Lucky Chekov," Albany observed.

"And you would know how lucky, wouldn't you, Tom?" Sunna laughed.

~

Maja, seeing Hobie set with Chekov, Ling dancing with Stez and Jir chatting happily with T'Paga, stepped out onto the patio for a breath of fresh air. He found Sarek doing the same.

"Hullo, Sait."

"My Maja." Sarek looked at his lover. "Will you dance with me?"

"Only if you hold me close and look at me as if there were no one else in the universe," Maja said, dreamily.

"The first is easily done, the second illogical, but I will do my best in both." The Vulcan took Maja's outstretched hands and twisted them up behind his back.

They glided around the patio a few times and back into the ballroom where their entrance was hardly noticed in the crush there.

~

"You're much more beautiful up close, Chekov."

"Oh... thank you."

"You dance quite well, too."

"The Shakaar is a very popular dance in the Federation right now. Many people are learning it."

"Oh really?" Hobie asked serenely, looking wolfish. "Has it penetrated so far?"

Chekov nodded uncertainly and lowered his eyes.

~

Looking up from his very enjoyable chat with Storen, Ling saw Laninin, in his pajamas and seated on SaBrzia's knee, looking very much like he was describing the goings on in the room to the old Vulcan.

Ling excused herself and so as not to draw attention to her destination, circled away from her target. 'Well, why not,' she thought, glancing up at the mezzanine, where Tien and Kalzat, Ro and Polmira, Hraja and Ko were Shakaaring the night away and the other JetCheqs and the Commune youngsters looked on when they all should have been in bed some time ago. 'Everybody else is here.' Only Jir's two youngest, Rezdi and Catanya, who were still toddlers and needed their sleep, were missing.

Slipping up behind the two, Ling caught part of their conversation: "... in the blue gown and white hair."

"Yes, fair dancing. Nothing like we had when I was young."

Ling noticed Laninin's hand in SaBrzia's: "Laninin."

"Yes, Ling." The child did not turn.

"Are you seeing with SaBrzia?"

"Yes, Ling."

Ling was impressed into silence. 'So you can see and see for others as well, you little empath monster baby. Qhoshi will have a fit when she finds out.'

"It's past your bedtime, Laninin," SaBrzia said softly.

"I want to stay," the child said. "Interesting things are going to happen. I want to see them."

"Like what?" Ling asked, intrigued.

"Like that." Laninin pointed and Ling turned to find the Hierophant Kroldt, his escort, Admiral KzostGhet, Captain Khatanya, and SaVoren advancing through the crowd toward them. General KmordriYhet and his escort were right behind them.

'God in heaven.' Ling thought, stepping back to make room for the huge Klingons before SaBrzia.

~

"We could settle the disputed space around Rovirin in an hour if we could only get enough ranking Klingons and Federation representatives in one room." Jessup was saying to T'Pau. "That would require a summit of an unthinkable magnitude and there simply isn't the will on Terra for such a project now." He turned to look at whatever T'Pau was so interested in behind him.

"The first step, Admiral, might simply be welcoming the Hierophant and the General to Shirkar." She led him to the group being introduced to SaBrzia.

~

"Kzost!" Hobie said, delighted. "Will you excuse me, Fara?"

Chekov graciously agreed and watched the pirate slicing through the crowd like a knife to get to the group of newcomers.

~

"The Hierophant!" Admiral KahbreKyrit choked slightly on his wine. "Is early."

"And General KmordriYhet as well," KzinivDhalk observed.

They made their way through the crowd to greet the newcomers.

~

"Khatanya!" Jir sighed and excused himself from Lady Amanda.

~

Malira, registering KmordriYhet's presence, simply raised her fan a little higher and slipped away into the crowd.

~

"I hope you will forgive me for coming here without notice," the Hierophant said in Klingonese and waited for his translator to put it into Standard.

"Turn that creature off, Hierophant," SaBrzia growled in Klingonese. "We all speak tolerable Klingon here."

"How civilized," Kroldt growled. "I am impatient, then, to speak to Master Ghet. Where is he?"

"Oh, he's around here somewhere. SaCriz," SaBrzia said. "Get all these guests something to drink." He turned to Hobie, who'd just joined the group. "Where's your brother?"

"Which one?"

"Maja."

"Maja? Oh, he's somewhere around here."

~

"And just where is your attention wandering to, Vulcan?" Maja, in Sarek's arms, scolded him.

"I am watching T'Pau speaking to the Hierophant Kroldt and some other people who've just arrived, my Maja," Sarek said, turning his attention back to the half Mage.

"Oh, well. Just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away."

~

Seeing Kmordri below him, Hraja's heart froze.

~

"...and may I present General KmordriYhet of Klingon ..." The Hierophant was trying to finish introducing everyone to T'Pau and Jessup when Hobie knocked Kmordri to the ground.

~

"Don't go anywhere," Dolo-fra said to Mr. Scott as he darted off to offer whatever assistance Hobie needed.

~

Neria-Tza got there first. "What goes on, Captain?" he asked in Patois, looking hard at Kmordri, whom he'd last seen asleep. It was similar to now: the Klingon had been laying down but, unlike now, he was awake and nursing his jaw, which had just received a sharp blow from Hobie's fist.

"Go put a guard around my nephew," Hobie growled in Patois.

Neria-Tza didn't have to ask which one. He glanced up at Hraja's stricken face on the mezzanine. "It is done."

~

"What an utterly astonishing party!" Lapham observed to Lady T'Pnov. "I'd no idea Vulcan gatherings were so... so interesting."

"Shirkar has always been somewhat more unruly than the smaller cities of Vulcan," she said serenely. "It was a frontier boom town for quite a while and now the Port of Vulcan is so near, some of the cosmopolitan wildness has spilled into society here."

"I see," Lapham murmured, wondering how mind crushingly dull the rest of the planet must be.

~

"SaHobie, leave the room," SaBrzia ordered in a voice that would not be denied.

Hobie found Ling at his elbow, pulling him away, and so, dear reader, we shall never know how close Kmordri was to death at that moment.

~

Kzost, Kroldt and Khatanya exchanged looks and shrugs as if to say that were Hraja their nephew, Kmordri would have been dead a long time ago.

Kroldt spotted Maja on the dance floor Shakaaring with Sarek. "Do you dance, T'Pau?"

"Rarely."

"Make an exception." He whisked the startled Vulcaness away in a Shakaar before she could protest.

~

"Look at that," T'Poldi, Sirev's grandmother, said to her lover, SaGolia.

"Isn't that just like T'Pau, to monopolize all the interesting men," SaGolia said, disgusted. "She hasn't changed since we were girls, has she?"

"I think she's dancing a little better."

"It's her partner, Poldi, not her." SaGolia drew her lover into an Imman. "Do not be confused."

~

"Are you all right, General?" Admiral KahbreKyrit asked as Major KzinivDhalk helped Kmordri to his feet.

"I believe I will be," Kmordri said, looking up at Hraja withdrawing from the Mezzanine.

The Klingons excused themselves to SaBrzia and withdrew to the bar. Kmordri directed them in a wide circle away from MajaKhat, whom he'd spotted in the crowd earlier.

~

"Are you all right?" Hobie put his arms around Hraja to stop the youth's trembling.

"What's he doing here?"

"I've no idea," Hobie said soothingly. "But don't worry, little one, we'll keep him away from you..."

"Or die trying, Hraja," Neria-Tza assured him.

"That Klingon will die trying to get to you, Hraja," Mizat put in.

"I promise." Hobie pressed a kiss to his nephew's subtly ridged Klingon forehead.

~

"Khatanya!" Jir threw himself into his favorite Klingon's arms.

"Control yourself, half Mage," Khatanya growled. "You'll frighten the Vulcans. Where's yer hair, Jir?"

"I'll tell you while we dance," Jir said, dragging the Klingon onto the dance floor.

Kzost and Voren looked on, amused. At least Kzost was amused. Voren looked a little nervous as he bent to speak into SaBrzia's ear.

~

The Hierophant danced T'Pau across the floor and slammed her into Sarek and Maja. "Sorry. Change partners." He yanked Maja out of Sarek's arms. "I need to talk to you, Gozine. Now, somewhere quiet, preferably horizontal." He tried to steer Maja away by the elbow but found T'Pau had the half Mage's other arm in a firm grip.

"I think these Vulcans want to talk to you, Master," Maja said blandly.

"Indeed, SaMaja," T'Pau said. "If you will find us a room with a table large enough to seat the Hierophant, the Klingon ambassador, his aide - Major KzinivDhalk, Admiral Jessup, his aide - Commander Ripley, Sarek and myself, plus a few Klingon/Standard, Klingon/Vulcan translators, it would greatly facilitate our discussion."

Maja knew an order when he heard one. "Yes, ma'am."

So did the Hierophant because he let go of his priest and wistfully watched him disappear into the crowd on his errand.

~

"HE'S YOUR WHAT?" SaBrzia bellowed, staring at Kzost.

"My lover," Voren said blandly. "These past thirty years."

"JIR! Put this child to bed," SaBrzia handed him Laninin, who was half asleep anyway. SaBrzia was happy to lapse back into his sightless state; he'd seen enough for one night. "Send Hobie back in if he can control himself."

~

"I am sorry to leave you like that, Chekov," Hobie said, returning to the ensign's side. "Some things are unavoidable."

"It is quite all right."

Hobie scanned the room for Kmordri and didn't find him. He saw Sarek, T'Pau, admiral Jessup, the Hierophant, some other Klingons and a Terran talking together. Jir was dancing with Khatanya, Ling with Qhoshi and they seemed to be deep in a serious conversation. Maja was darting around doing something. Voren and Kzost were Shakaaring. They had recovered from SaBrzia's shocked reaction to Voren's announcement that he and the Klingon had been lovers for thirty years. SaBrzia had simply said they would discuss it, if there were anything to discuss, in the morning. Technically it was already morning but Voren and Kzost took the hint and made tracks.

"Dance." Hobie dragged Chekov back onto the floor. He had a feeling he wanted to be near SaBrzia. He'd just caught sight of a dusty grey robe moving in that direction.

~

"What's Kmordri doing here?" Malira fell into step with Maja, on his way to lead the diplomats to their private room.

"Chasing Hraja, what else?"

"Are you wise?"

"Is he?"

"What are you up to, Master Ghet?"

"Look, Malira, we've got to go back to the Empire one day; wouldn't it be so much better to have one more powerful Klingon on our side when we do?"

"Ah. Well. Kmordri and I are convinced. You'll have to win over Hraja and my son and Hobie and his pirates and the JetCheqs and ...."

"Don't be negative, Malira. The hardest part is accomplished; Kmordri is here, is he not?"

Malira bowed to Maja's superior deviousness and left it in his capable hands.

~

"Oh, yes, I remember you," SoLri said. "You're Stonet, one of Jir's schoolmates, aren't you? Where've you been all this time?"

"Gol," Stonet murmured, he was still not very used to using his voice again and was finding it difficult to speak above a whisper. "Is Jir at home?"

"He's somewhere here," SoLri looked about.

"Where were you?" SaBrzia asked. He had not recognized the voice, but he name sounded familiar, someone Jir spent quite a lot of time with in his youth.

"Gol."

"JIR!" SaBrzia bellowed. 'I'm going to bed after this,' he thought ruefully.

~

Jir looked away from Khatanya, who was Shakaaring as if his life depended on it, and froze, nearly landing them in a heap. He disengaged from his partner and headed toward SaBrzia.

~

Storen, hearing Jir's name, looked in SaBrzia's direction and nearly dropped his wineglass at seeing his elder brother standing there. He excused himself from Smig and Phr-tolnet, who were telling Jira Krinat (Jir the Dancer) stories and followed Jir across the room.

~

Lord Srizek, Storen and Stonet's father, had so strongly disapproved of Stonet's and Jir's liaison that he was relieved when his first born son had chosen Gol over the half-breed slut. He was deeply disturbed to see his son now standing in the same room with him when he should have been far far away. He moved off in Stonet's direction.

~

'Wow - I bet no one would come back from Gol for me,' Maja thought in awe as he led the diplomats to their quiet room. SerNera and Smvit had agreed to translate and were waiting there. The two old men could be linguistic pains in the ass but they were probably the best Klingon/Standard, Klingon/Vulcan translators in bodies at that time.

~

'This is enough to make me believe in true love,' Hobie thought, looking at Stonet and drawing Chekov a little closer.

~

"I wish to speak to you in private, Jir," Stonet said.

'You'd never know there was a party in full swing around you by the way you act, Stonet,' Jir thought, remembering how self absorbed this Vulcan always was. It had been a challenge, even for Jir, just to get his attention for most of their love affair. "Well, I'm in the middle of a party but I suppose we could step outside for a moment," he said, also remembering that he'd never been able to say no to this Vulcan, and turned to SaBrzia. "If you will excuse me."

"Yes. Hurry back. Some other interesting uninvited persons might arrive," SaBrzia growled.

Stonet turned to find his father and younger brother next to him. "Father. Brother." He nodded. "Please excuse us." He took Jir's elbow and led him onto the patio.

~

"What are you watching with such attention, Spock?" Amanda asked.

"Stonet has returned from Gol."

"I thought Gol was a life long commitment."

"It is," he said. "Usually."

~

"Will this do?" Maja asked as the diplomats fanned out around the table.

"It will," T'Pau said.

"Shall I bring some wine?" Maja asked, remembering his manners.

"And mineral water and tea and some hors d'oeuvres, please," SerNera said, seating himself and remembering to be a good host.

Maja slipped away to fetch all those things for them.

~

"Didja see him?" Ling breathlessly asked SaDrosta.

"Stonet? Or the dismay in his father's face?" SaDrosta asked.

"Stonet. To hell with his father, SaDrosta," Ling said. "He broke them up in the first place."

"Jir and Stonet broke themselves up, as I recall, by not being able to find a course they could both agree on," SaDrosta drawled with irritating serenity. "There were better solutions than exile to Gol and exile from dance, but they refused to see them."

"You know Jir's heart was broken when Stonet left him, SaDrosta."

"Mine as well; I lost the best dance partner I've ever had."

"Oh, really."

"Yes, really." SaDrosta reached out and gave Ling's aquiline nose a gentle pull. He was fond of the younger Talljets, Ling more than Maja; Maja was too hard, too sharp for SaDrosta to really enjoy.

~

"I could sense your proximity since your arrival, Jir, and fought your draw as long as I could," Stonet said quietly. "You've been on Vulcan longer than usual and the attraction was too strong for me to resist this time."

"So it's my fault you're a weakling and just walked out of Gol?"

"Yes."

"Listen, Stonet...um..."

Stonet waited patiently. He was very patient.

"Stonet, I'm sorry, I came because I felt you dying and if that destroyed whatever you were working on in Gol..."

"I would be dead had you not come, Jir. The Kolinahr make no provision for the onset of Pon farr. They die from it; that's all."

"The whole thing is barbaric." Jir paced a few steps. "But you lived, you didn't have to come here, I didn't ask you to."

"No."

"No, what?" Jir asked after a moment of annoying silence.

"No, you did not ask me to come here."

"But you did," Jir prompted.

"Yes."

Jir ground his teeth in irritation, he'd nearly forgotten how hard it could be to have a conversation with Stonet. "Can you go back?"

"Back where?"

"TO GOL."

"No."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I came for you, Jir."

"Madness."

"Yes. Perhaps. Illogical, at least."

"Oh, whatever." Jir threw himself into the former Kolinahr's arms. "And you're just in time for supper."

~

"Well done, Leonard," Ling smiled at the doctor, grabbing a seat next to him. "You've ended up at the equivalent of the children's table."

"Oh, really? I just thought it would be pleasant to sit next to you, Ling."

"You are too kind."

~

Maja knocked and was told to enter: "SaBrzia wants to know if you're eating with us or if you want something brought in here," he said.

"Have it sent in here, please," T'Pau said and returned her attention to the Klingons.

Maja went off to do as he was bid.

~

Hobie settled Chekov at the children's table, next to Qwuushi, who would keep the navigator company, and went off to welcome Stonet.

"Back from the dead, eh, Stonet?"

"Not that I am aware of, Hobie."

"Ah. Well. Nice to see you again." Hobie was always a little flummoxed by Stonet so he returned to the simpler joys of Chekov.

~

"I find the Federation's claim on Rovirin bootless," Admiral Kahbre was saying as Maja saw the meal set out on a sideboard.

"But a fact, Admiral," Sarek said smoothly. "One we must find a way to work together on."

Maja withdrew and found one of the Klingons from Kmordri's escort waiting for him.

"The General would like to speak to you before he retires to the Embassy for the night."

"Lead on, Klingon."

He found Kmordri seated in one of the little parlors off the main reception hall.

"Your eldest brother has a very hard fist," Kmordri stated.

"I was not expecting you so soon, General." Maja said. "I would have arranged our meeting differently, in that case."

"What can you arrange for me about your son?" Kmordri asked bluntly.

"Which one?"

"You know which one, Master Ghet. Do not play games with me."

"Of course not, General, I merely wish to be sure you're talking about Hraja."

"I am."

"I wonder what he is worth to you."

It was on the tip of the Klingon's tongue to say everything but he controlled himself: "I wonder what you want for him, priest."

"I want Rovirin, Zhaharnisha and the systems around them returned to Haat control when the peace is made and no interference from you Yhets. I want Hraja to remain in the Gozshedrefreingin Commune; eventually he will become a Master sculptor. You may visit him there as often as you like since the Yhets will extend their patronage to us as well."

"Your patrons are the Haats."

"They will agree to share us. You will keep all other Klingons off of us, off of Hraja, his brothers and Master Khat especially."

"This is all possible..."

"And there might be one or two more material requests when I begin to make concrete plans to return to the Empire."

"...if your son agrees."

"He is a reasonable youngster; I believe you found him so."

"Yes." Kmordri rose. "And many other things as well." He swept out with his escort and didn't look back.

~

Jir turned to see Stonet examining him over his plate of raw vegetables. He smiled at him.

"Have you changed your hair, Jir?"

~

"He's got it bad for you, Terran." Qwuushi observed.

"What do you mean?" Chekov asked.

"Aside from beating up that Klingon and breaking up a fight, Hobie hasn't done anything but dance with you all night."

Chekov glanced away and found a solemn looking vulcanoid in a simple black gown and a long braid over his shoulder staring at him. The vulcanoid shook his head, flipped his braid off his shoulder and wandered off in the direction of the caterers, who were taking food to another part of the building.

~

"As Rovirin is our best access to non-aligned space, Hierophant," Jessup was saying. "We are, of course inclined to keep it. Especially, since we have it."

"Rovirin has religious significance for us," the Hierophant informed him.

"Your cathedral? I'm sure we can find a way to allow you Klingons access to it."

Maja saw the food layed out, opened another bottle of wine, suppressed an urge to wink at Sarek and withdrew.

~

"Laninin was doing what?" Qhoshi asked Ling across the table.

"Seeing for both of them."

Qhoshi leaned back to think about this for a moment. "What does this mean?"

"It means he's a lovely, compassionate child who is going to go his own way. Our best bet is simply to provide him a good structure, clear boundaries and listen to what he says when he bothers to say it."

"That's what we do now."

"It seems to be working; let's continue."

Qhoshi nodded and turned to ask Commander Sunna how he was enjoying Shirkar. They were slightly distracted by Hobie's reappearance at Chekov's side, begging the ensign's pardon for leaving him for so long.

~

"I hope Chekov's up to this," Kirk whispered to Spock, who merely nodded and went back to enjoying a very excellent Vulcan supper.

~

The band changed from Jir's ensemble to all Vulcans with modern versions of ancient instruments.

"Those are Brnias, Maja," Strat said to Maja, who'd just gotten his first mouthful of nourishment that evening. "What are the Sas up to now?"

"You have to tell me what a Brnia is first, Strat."

"An old old Vulcan drone instrument."

"Pre-reform?"

"Pre-everything, Maja. They were used in the old religion for hunting dances, war dances, ... mating dances." Strat's eyes widened slightly as he watched the musicians set up a series of hollow drums. "And those Ktaraaras," he said, referring to the drums. "Were used mainly in the Gjrigas."

"You know, this is a fascinatin' ethnomusicological lecture, Strat. I wish I was in the mood for it." Maja got snappy when he was hungry and he hadn't yet gotten enough food, but still, he was curious. "What's a Gjrigas?"

"Very sexy mating dance. Used in ancient times to stimulate young couples to breed."

Maja, even unshockable Maja Talljet, widened his eyes. "D'you think the Sas would ..."

"They might, MajaYaja." Strat gave Maja's knee a squeeze. "Just to prove they can."

~

The Hierophant pushed his plate away. He hated vegetables but these had not been so bad, actually quite good. "Perhaps some solution can be reached in this matter. Let us meet tomorrow with General KmordriYhet. As he is here for some reason, he can represent the interests of his family." He paused to listen. "What is that delightful music?"

T'Pau grinned in her mind. "It's a Gjrigas. Shall we rejoin the party?" She rose and was out the door and into the sea of undulating beings before anyone could say no.

~

"Spock, perhaps you should take the humans home," Ling warned. "This might not be ... be the thing for them." Stez was dragging Ling off to the sidelines as she spoke.

"I think they will enjoy it," Spock assured her.

~

"Only the Sas would do this," Princess T'Pira said to her consort as they danced against each other in the primal rhythm of the Gjrigas.

~

Gjrigas had been banned at the time of the founding of the Shirkar oasis due to their inflammatory nature. The founding clans felt that the ecstatic mating, sometimes lasting up to four days, was no longer necessary to tribes as advanced as they. The anarchy of the matings was also proving to be a threat to the chieftains' authority. It was permitted to dance them in private and they flourished for quite a while.

~

"This is an unusual dance for Vulcans, is it not?" KzinivDhalk asked SaDrosta dancing against him.

"Yes. Very instinctual, very primal."

"Oh, yes."

~

Eventually, when there was significant dip in the population of Shirkar, it was allowed to dance Gjrigas in large public groups. This was, in fact, encouraged for many years and so it gradually fell out of fashion.

~

The band leader, a respected ethnomusicologist at the Vulcan Institute, had been reluctant to accept the engagement until SaBrzia himself had reminded him that the ancient traditions were worth reviving, even for one evening.

The Gjrigas renaissance lasted the entire Shirkar season and the band had more engagements than they could accept. It was necessary to form two more Gjrigas bands, primarily of students, and send them out into Shirkar society that year.

The later Gjrigas, however, never quite reached the fever pitch of the Sas' party. This was attributed to the absence of the Terrans and the Klingons. The later Gjrigas were very enjoyable, nonetheless.

~

"This is quite interesting," Sarfati said to Jaroslav Tikel, dancing next to him.

"Very."

~

Gjrigas were again banned at the time of the Surakian dictatorship as being too licentious.

~

Chekov found himself glued to Hobie in the crush of bodies around him. He further found he was enjoying it; Hobie, the dance, the music, the crush - all of it.

'Perfect,' Hobie sighed happily in his mind, Chekov in his arms. 'Just perfect.'

~

In the first millennium after the Reform, Gjrigas music was rediscovered by the Si clan and was allowed to be performed in public again. Eventually, the dance itself was allowed to be performed but only under strict and tightly controlled theatrical conditions.

~

'Only the Sas,' T'Pau was thinking as she danced against Smvit, as they had, once or twice, in the past.

~

Once again, the Gjrigas crept back into private life and from there it was merely a short jump back into larger, no more than ten dancers, but still private, groups. The Gjrigas never again became the powerful leveling social force it had been in the past but it accomplished two things for modern and nouveau Vulcans: among the followers of Surak it was one of the less chemical ways to induce Pon farr and it was enjoyable for everyone.

The Sas' party for Hobie's liberation on this Noltarek’s Eve was the first time in living memory the dance had been revived for a large social event.

~

"This is incredible, Gozine." The Hierophant hauled him a little closer.

"It's certainly unusual, Master." Maja looked around for Sarek and saw him all over Amanda and decided that was fine, even good.

~

McCoy found himself wedged between Spock and Kirk and did not find that unusual or unpleasant.

~

SaBrzia and his elderly students slipped away in the rapture of the Gjrigas. They were satisfied; it had been a wonderful party. Some of the younger Sas were on strict orders to stop the music in an hour or so and throw everybody out.

There was not much protest when this occurred. Everybody was ready, very ready to go home. To bed.

~

"Come," the Hierophant said firmly to Maja. "With me."

"I'm staying here tonight, Master." Maja said with his gentle but irresistible firmness. "It's the first time we Talljets have been together in ages."

"Change," Kroldt said menacingly. "Your mind."

Maja stroked his cheek. "Later, I'll see you later tonight. I swear it."

The Hierophant knew further argument was useless and withdrew to the Vulcan Embassy to get some sleep.

~

The guests drifted away in small groups.

~

"You'll stay, won't you, Chekov?"

"If you like."

"Super," Hobie said, moving the ensign out of the ballroom. "We'll have to find you somewheres to sleep."

~

Jir caught Stonet's father's angry eye. "Are you staying here or going to your father's house?"

"Here, if that is possible."

Jir nodded. 'Possible, yes; wise, we cannot know.' They left the ballroom together.

~

Kirk, Spock and McCoy were so anxious to get to the privacy of the villa, they had the Enterprise transporter room beam them there.

~

Mr. Scott went home with Dolo-fra, but the details of that encounter are still unknown at this time.

~

"Are you coming, Ling?" Stez asked.

"No, I'm staying here." Ling said simply. "We Talljets have not been together like this in ages." She touched her paired fingers to Stez's. "I'll see you later."

~

"Here we go," Hobie soothed at Chekov, who seemed a little nervous to him. "You can sleep right here." He reached for the belt of the ensign's tunic and pulled it loose. The pirate drew the garment over the youngster's head and tossed it aside. He took a moment to admire the definition in Chekov's chest and arms and the color of his skin before he pressed the ensign down to sitting on the edge of the bed, noting the softness of the aforementioned skin. Hobie knelt to remove the low heeled pumps and pulled off the sheer socks that went with them. He drew Chekov gently against him to roll down the leggings and looked deeply into the Terran's warm brown eyes. He brushed the hair out of Chekov's eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to the trembling ensign's forehead. Hobie pulled the covers up and tucked them in. "There. You're all set. The bath is over there," he pointed. "There's water in this jug. We'll wake you when breakfast is ready. Sleep well, Chekov." And he was gone before the ensign could really react.

'...ummm...thank you,' Chekov thought sleepily, yawning, somewhat relieved, and dropped off.

~

"Where are you sleeping, Jir?" Stonet asked as Jir settled him into one of the guest rooms.

"With the Talljets. We haven't been together in a long time."

"Nor have we, Jira."

"Then we can wait a little longer, can't we, Stonet?"

There was a stubborn silence before Stonet agreed, that, yes, they could wait a little longer.

~

"You'll be comfortable here." SaCriz saw Kzost and Voren into one of the unused bedrooms. He handed Voren sheets and towels and turned to go.

"Cousin," Voren said, handing the sheets and towels to Kzost, who went off to make the bed. "Do you think SaBrzia is dismayed?"

"A little, SaVoren," SaCriz said. "There are many things we respect, perhaps even admire, about Klingons and Klingon culture but discovering you've had a Klingon lover for thirty years is rather shocking. Even for us open-minded Sas." He watched his younger cousin nod. "Is Kzost why you stayed away from Vulcan for so long?"

"SaCriz," Voren said, looking deeply in his cousin's eyes. "I hardly noticed the time going by."

~

The Talljets made a nest in their old playroom and curled up together in their old way: Jir and Hobie around Ling and Maja. They had tried to get Kzost to let them sleep with him but they were thrown out sans ceremony. They managed to feel safe and happy anyway. They were together and well and all would be well.

At least for this night.

* * *

"Wake up, Terran."

Chekov woke with a start and found himself staring up at the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen ... holding out a cup of tea to him. 'I've died and gone to heaven,' he thought. 'A Vulcan heaven.'

Tien waved his hands before the ensign's glazed eyes. Polmira came to stand beside his cousin.

'Impossible,' thought the Russian. 'There can't be two most beautiful creatures ever.'

"Is he awake?" Polmira asked in the Patois.

"I think so." Tien took the shirt and pants from his cousin and tossed them on Chekov's chest. "Look, Terran, wake up! Uncle Hobie sent us to bring you down for breakfast so look sharp."

"Oh, yes," Chekov said, snapping out of his daze. "I'll be down very soon. Where should I go ...?"

"Ask anyone, we're all in the kitchen," Polmira said, rising and leaving the room with Tien.

Chekov drank some fragrant tea, took a shower and put on the white shirt and fawn colored pants that fit like they were made for him. (They were not but fortunately he and Farro were nearly the same size.) He slipped on and tied up the shoes, borrowed from Lyra, and went down into the house.

It was not necessary for Chekov to ask directions, he merely followed the sounds of happy commotion that led him directly into the huge Sa kitchen.

"There you are, Chekov," Hobie called across the room. "How'd you sleep?"

"Well, thank you," Chekov answered.

"That's normal in a house full of empaths," Hobie said, cheerfully. "Help yourself to what's on the buffet." He waved at the mountain of food on the sideboard.

Chekov, like everyone else in the room, was very hungry and so dug right in. He found a seat at the big table next to an elderly Vulcan. He looked down the table and found Spock and McCoy having breakfast as well.

"What languages have you, Terran?" the old man asked in Standard, distracting him from the first officer and the CMO.

"Only Standard, Russian and Andorian, sir," the ensign answered politely.

"Hmmm. Don't know any Andorian, myself," SoLri continued. "Where did you learn it?"

Chekov was about to say at Star Fleet Academy but he was interrupted by Hobie hauling a young vulcanoid male up to eye level by the yoke of the youth's Vulcan robe.

Polmira, standing nearby, froze. He'd just introduced his parent to Prince Strig. He was as surprised as anyone by Hobie's reaction.

Strig, wisely, let his body go limp and calmly met Hobie's fierce, black gaze a few inches away.

"It is true, Hobie," Sbat drawled blandly from behind Polmira, "that my son is small now, but we expect a growth spurt in a year or so at which time you need no longer pick him up to examine him."

Hobie merely grunted and dropped Strig. "I should hope so, Sbat. He is rather puny right now, maybe he should have something to eat." He turned back to the pancakes that were burning on the grill behind him.

Polmira knew his parent very well and led Strig over to the sideboard and out of harm's way. Conversations resumed naturally.

"I hear your people are serious about letting Strig and Polmira pair up, Sbat." Hobie handed a plate of singed pancakes to Bot to put on the buffet.

"We are serious, Hobie. What is your opinion?"

"I need to see more of your boy before I can say."

"That is understandable."

"And now, I'm starving, let's eat." Hobie led Sbat to the buffet and they talked about themselves for a while instead of their children.

"They can smell the food all over the house!" Farro rolled in, Kzost and Voren directly behind him. "Hey!" he pointed at Chekov. "Those look better on you than they ever did on me!"

"Ah," Chekov said. "Thank you."

"Ho, Rom!" Hobie called at Voren. "Come sit over here and bring your Klingon."

"Then bring us some food, Hobie," Voren said leading Kzost to a seat in the inglenook, which he'd enjoyed sitting in as a child.

"Uncle, I'm on orders to take a tray to SaBrzia," Farro said, nibbling on some sauteed tubers and fried pommes.

"I'll take it," Jir said as he came in with Stonet. He pushed the former Kolinahr into a seat at the table next to Sbat and put some food on a plate at the sideboard. "He's already screamed for me three times this morning." He set the heaping plate in front of Stonet and turned to take the tray from Hobie. "Make up a little one for Laninin. You know he and the old man are inseparable now."

"An odder pair I could not have imagined," Hobie observed.

"Nor I, but as long as they're content," Maja observed as he swept in. "Bhotebe," he said sternly to the little communist, "take that food with you and go help Hraja tidy my studio for the day's work. You are not on vacation here. And take Hraja some food while you're at it." He watched his apprentice scamper off with a tray. "The order of this Commune has gone to hell," he intoned to MajaKhat, just entering.

"Umm," was the only answer he got from his fellow Master.

"Oh, there you are Kzost!" Maja said and managed to kick Voren a few times getting into the Klingon's lap.

"Maja, get off of me," Kzost growled, pushing Maja into the seat next to him, away from Voren. "You're too big and it's too early for such nonsense."

"Perhaps." Maja rose and went to the sideboard where he wrapped some vegetables in a crepe, "See ya," and sashayed back to his tidy studio. He and his sculptors had plans to work on their statue of Skolta that day.

"I'm planning a trip to my ships and crews today," Hobie said to Chekov. "Join me?"

"If I can." Chekov looked down the table at Spock, who nodded his approval. "I would like to see your ships."

"Come with us, Spock," Hobie said. "You too, McCoy. It'll be cool enough so you Terrans won't suffer too much. Have Kirk join us as well," Hobie added casually.

"If he can. There are things he must attend to on the Enterprise," Spock said.

"Oh, yeah? You, on the other hand, seem to be on extended holiday." Hobie rose and began to clear some dishes before Spock could answer. Polmira and Lyra immediately rose and did it for him.

"And after your ships, Hobie, go take a look at the atelier I rented for you in the Port," Ling said entering and filling a plate for herself.

"The what?"

"The workshop." Ling nodded and left the room.

"Oh. Good. Thanks."

"If you'll excuse us, we'll go visit the Commune." Sbat rose and left the room. He took Strig with him. Polmira and Lyra followed them out.

"Is Ling avoiding me?" Kzost asked Hobie.

"Yes, you and Voren," Hobie answered. "But don't take it personally, she avoids anything that reminds her strongly of Magidrian."

"Can't say I blame her." The Klingon went back to his breakfast.

Jir's children, Hobiea, Rezdi and Catanya, roared in and flung themselves on their parent. "My ears are ringin'," Hobiea announced to the room in general.

"Mine as well," Stonet observed quietly.

Maja and Ling stepped back in the room unobtrusively, looking curious. Something in their second sight had kicked in and drew them back into the kitchen.

Hobie turned to Stonet. "So, Stonet, how does it feel to be free again?"

"I was not aware I was constrained, Hobie."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. I'll just go say bye to SaBrzia." Hobie, disconcerted as usual rose but then hesitated.

"Don't bother, Nolo, he's wholly engrossed in the thank you cards that've come already," Jir drawled. "SiJidi is reading them to him. Smvit seems to have disappeared with T'Pau last night."

"Go, T'Pau," Maja drawled pleasantly.

"Oh, scandal!" Ling winked at Spock, who ignored her.

"T'Pau looked pretty good last night," Hobie observed.

"After an hour of that Gjrigas, everybody looked good," Master Khat observed.

Hobie caught Chekov's eye and looked deeply into it. "Indeed. Some better than others."

Chekov looked away, blushing.

"This is interesting, Terran," Farro exclaimed. "This thing your face does." He looked intently at Chekov, who blushed even harder.

"Farro," Master Khat growled, rising. "I think I hear Master Dhec calling you to work. Go. Now."

He did, closely followed by Master Khat.

"Why don't you take Chekov with you, please?" Hobie said to Spock and McCoy, who were leaving to pay a visit to the Commune. They did.

Jir looked at Stonet, who was calmly sipping his tea.

"Stonet," Jir said firmly, deciding this was as good a time as any. "I have something for you." He pulled Hobiea onto his lap.

"What is it, Jir?" the Vulcan asked after a moment.

Jir gestured to Hobiea.

"Your son?" Stonet asked.

"Our son," Jir answered.

Having heard what they needed to hear, Ling and Maja left the room.

"He is the right age," Stonet murmured, studying the child.

Hobiea twisted around to whisper, "Who is that?" to Jir.

"Your father." Jir looked with love at the major interruption of his career.

Hobiea made a face and got down to go get something to eat. He then went out to play with his brothers and cousins in the Commune.

"I'm underwhelmed by Hobiea's reaction, Jir," Hobie commented.

"He's a VulCheq, what do you want? Tears, hysterics? Really, Hobie." Jir rolled his eyes. "What?" He asked Stonet, who'd said something under his breath.

"I said I am pleased, Jir."

"Me, too." Jir bashed his forehead into the Vulcan's shoulder, the standard Talljet gesture of affection.

"So that's all of you," Kzost said quietly.

"All of us what?" Jir asked.

"All of you flipped for Vulcans."

"True." Hobie said.

"Have you never wondered why?" Voren asked.

"Of course," Jir said. Hobie merely nodded. "I even have a theory on it," Jir continued. "I think we flip for them because their psychic current is strong and just complimentary enough to us so we flip. Especially in Pon farr, which is where Hobiea got his start. But even not in full blown Pon farr, I think sex with us eventually triggers a subtler form of Pon farr and that's what flips us. Stress or age, look how long it took Stez and Ling to get on the production line."

"What a charming image that is, Jir," Hobie said.

"Well, what about you and Sarek?"

"Probably his age and a little stress," Hobie allowed. "We were almost caught by Tossar. Weren't for the brave actions of a quick thinking bell boy, I'd not be here to tell the tale."

"Hmmm, yes. Instant death. Very stressful." Jir rose and looked at Stonet. "Hemzjit." And they left the room.

The breakfast having broken up, Tien and Kalzat came down to help Hobie start pulling together the huge picnic lunch they'd take on their outing to see the pirate ships docked just outside of Shirkar.

* * *

"Oh, shocking, Ling," Maja said to his little sister. "How'd Stonet father Hobiea in Gol?"

"In the usual fashion I believe."

"Don't be so serene, baby. Tell me what you know."

"Well," Ling sighed, looking at Maja. She'd never been able to keep anything from him when pressed. "You know how close Jir and Stonet were before he went to Gol..."

"Yessss," Maja prompted.

"I think they formed some kind of bond, not unlike you and Spock..."

"Yesss," Maja hated dragging things out of Ling but this promised to be worth it.

"So, when Jir felt Stonet start to Pon farr, as you felt Spock..."

Maja nodded encouragingly.

"He came here and transported directly to where Stonet was in Plak Tow, in Gol. Apparently, the Kolinahr have a special place for their members to die in Plak Tow."

"Savages," Maja observed.

"Well, anyway, Jir rescued him..."

"A miraculous sexual healing, eh?"

"Don't joke, Maja."

"Okay, okay. And then...."

"And then Jir went back to the Tasilinian Emperor, who actually thinks Hobiea is his son."

"I wonder if that will ever be useful," Maja mused.

"I rather think not Nolo," Ling said sternly. "Stonet looked pleased, if you recall."

"I thought he looked shocked, shocked, shocked."

"You're imagining things."

"So, you and Jir shielded all this from me and Hobie all these years, yes?"

"There was no reason for you to know."

"What else don't we know?"

"I got sick on an Oogliafienian pastry about four years ago," Ling offered and got a scowl for it. "I might like to know certain things, Maja. Such as what was happening on Klingon during the periods you were shielding."

"I was being tortured. There. Now you know."

"I could have helped you."

"I preferred to leave you out of my suffering, little one." Maja stroked his younger sibling's cheek.

"I would also have liked to know that Tossar raped Hobie. He never said a word, did he?"

"I assume you mean Hobie because Tossar never mentioned it either," Maja smiled. "No, Hobie never said a word. I knew, but only because I dragged poor Kzost to Ashagedra to rescue him. I could feel Hobie was in trouble but I couldn't tell what. It was the first time we were that far apart. Only by the time we got there, Hobie no longer needed to be rescued. He had Tossar under his complete control." Maja paused to wave at Svurek by his door. "Those lessons in mental control we learned here have served us well, Ling, haven't they?"

"Very well."

"To control ourselves and to control others."

"Well, we're only supposed to use the first part of that, Nolo."

"Had we stayed here," Maja said, turning into his studio. "We would never have needed the other part."

* * *

Jir led Stonet to a quiet place and they made love for the rest of the morning and the better part of the afternoon.

* * *

"What do you think, Spock?" Hobie asked as he power dived one of the air cars Captain Ebiv had sent to bring them to the ships.

"Most impressive," Spock replied. No one asked him if he was referring to the eighty huge warships on the plain or Hobie's piloting.

Chekov and McCoy, seated in the back, were very silent. Only Lyra and Bot, seated between the Terrans, seemed to be enjoying the ride.

And an interesting ride it had been. Captain Ebiv sent along five air cars from Hobie's ships. They were something of a cross between a hovercoupe and a fighter craft as they were designed for extremely fast and agile short distance space travel. This meant that they really cooked in the atmosphere, which was a nice byproduct of Hobie's original design. Of course, all Hobie's designs were amazing. Hobie let Qwuushi, Mizat, Malira, and Kalzat pilot the other four. This might not have been wise because they immediately went into competition to see who could skim the closest to this building or that cliff. The situation was exacerbated when Hobie decided to have a look at Shirkar from the air and this involved getting as close to the new buildings as possible. Terrifying, although Spock was enjoying it as much as he enjoyed anything. It had been a long time since he'd seen Shirkar from the air, too. At any rate, they had almost tired of this pursuit when the Air Police asked them to leave, now, or be cited.

(Neria-Tza had begged off this outing because he wanted to make contact with the little Terran that had been scoping him in Port's marketplace a few days prior. He thought he might be on to something good, after all, this was the Terran that sat next to the fabulous Chekov on the bridge of the Enterprise.)

Hobie swung low over this part of his fleet. Another two thirds of it were trapped behind the continuing conflict in the Zones of non-aligned space. He assumed they were lost, either destroyed or gone renegade and set up on their own. Why would they stay loyal this long without him or one of his brothers to lead them? He wouldn't; why should they? He veered off this depressing train of thought and circled around again. Eighty ships was still a good number to go back and fight with. They were the best ships in the galaxy and had even better crews. He brought his ship down into a gentle landing and hustled everyone out. Nearby, the other ships were landing with the same grace, more or less.

Captain Movra walked up to greet Hobie. He was introduced to the Terrans. He tousled the boys' hair; he'd bounced these two and Polmira as well on his knees when they were babies. Movra had been one of Tossar's younger commanders when Hobie appeared, one of the more intelligent as well - he'd see the future was Hobie Talljet and his brothers long ago. He had made himself indispensable to Hobie after Tossar's death. Movra had an inborn desire to build - not unusual in NzrealiCheqs, a very industrious species - and preferred Hobie's policy of cultivation of new planets as opposed to Tossar's old policy of subjugating them. Force was useful but only when all else failed and then judiciously applied. So Movra was very happy in Hobie's command. Suited him down to the ground, really.

They walked among the ships. Hobie was greeted here and there but hardly fawned upon.

"How many ships are ready to leave here now, Movra?" Hobie asked in the Patois.

"Forty-five tonight, fifty by tomorrow night." Movra said, watching the Terrans wander off.

"How soon for sixty?"

"Three days."

"We will need them for the Certigians. But not in three days, more like a few weeks, I think."

"I understand you're stuck here for a few months." Movra said. "Who will you send?"

"Probably Maja."

"He would be my choice. One feels that the gods are with us when Master Ghet takes us into battle."

"Ah." Hobie said. "I shall pray that be true."

"By the way, Hobie," Movra said. "Dolo-fra brought one of the Terrans here last night. Someone named Scott; from the Enterprise, I believe. Seems very interested in the ships."

"Male or female?"

"Male."

"Odd, I thought Dolo only liked women."

"I'm not sure it's a sexual thing, Hobie. This Terran knows far too much about starships to just be someone Dolo picked up to fuck."

"Interesting," Hobie murmured, he was distracted by Kirk transporting down near them. "Welcome, Captain Kirk," Hobie hailed him in Standard.

"Thank you for the invitation, Captain Talljet," Kirk said urbanely and was introduced to Movra, who then, seeing the glint in Hobie's eye, excused himself.

"You're always welcome here, Kirk," Hobie said, gallantly.

"Ah, thank you," Kirk said, looking around him. "Are Spock and McCoy here?"

"Oh, somewhere. Let's go look for them," Hobie said leading him in exactly the opposite direction. "I'm very sorry I didn't have a chance to speak to you last night."

"There were quite a few beings there last night, Captain Talljet," Kirk said. 'And you were wholly engrossed with my navigator, as I recall,' he thought.

"Do call me Hobie," the pirate smiled roguishly.

"I shall." Kirk looked at the ships around him. "Very impressive, Hobie, what do you plan to do with all these ships?"

"Me? Nothing for the next ninety days, at least. Why do you ask?"

"It seems odd to have so much firepower on a pacific planet like Vulcan."

"Aye, it do, don't it?" Hobie mused. "But, you know, they didn't come here willingly. It was the best of a bad lot of choices."

"How so?"

"We were getting our asses kicked out in the Zones," Hobie said briskly. "Lots of planets in the Fed but this is the only one we all got visas for."

"That in itself is amazing," Kirk said coolly. "How that got past Federation Immigration is quite impressive."

"I guess," Hobie said vaguely, strolling in the shadows of his ships. "It was Ling and Jir's project, so it must be legal. Jir is the greatest lawyer of his generation, you know."

"So I've heard."

Scan. Hobie turned slightly to scan again.

It was subtle but Kirk caught it and raised what shields he had as Spock had taught him.

"Sorry," Hobie said, lowering his eyes in a damn fine imitation of contrition. "You...interest me and this conversation seems to be going nowhere." He switched his vision from color and line to energy fields to examine Kirk's shields and decided not to push through them. It wasn't worth spooking the Terran. Yet.

"Why," Kirk asked slowly, keeping his puny shields up, "do I interest you?"

"Because," Hobie drawled, "I suspect there's a great deal of intelligence behind those beautiful green eyes, Terran." The pirate looked deeply into Kirk's rather annoyed but beautiful green eyes and very clearly read 'back off' there. So he did. 'Retreat, hell, I'll just fight in this other direction for a while.' Hobie, seeing a wave shimmer in the energy field behind Kirk, looked up to see Spock and McCoy approaching. "Ah, there's your ..." Hobie trailed off, disconcerted to see the bond not between Spock and McCoy as he had expected to see it, but between Spock and Kirk. "Um ... first mate." He switched back to color and line so he could concentrate on the ensuing conversation.

"There you are, Jim," McCoy beamed. "We were wondering if you could get away and join us."

"Yes," Kirk looked a challenge at Hobie, who was still contemplating this weird development. "A delightful invitation."

Hobie nodded and looked down at Bot, who'd just joined them.

"We're hungry," the child announced.

Hobie nodded some more. "Lead on, Bot. Come, let's have lunch. I believe one of your officers, Scoot? Scott? something, is here."

"I was wondering where he was," Kirk said as they moved into a marquee.

"Yes, apparently he and my chief engineer, Dolo-fra, have much in common."

Over a very nice lunch, Hobie scanned enough of Montgomery Scott to decide he was harmless and allow him to stay in the field of ships.

* * *

"I hope the food is good at this thing," Jir sighed as the firm's hoverlimo glided to a stop before Lord Suqiet's home. It was an honor for all the attorneys to be invited to Lord Suqiet's home. Except Jir, who'd had to get out of Stonet's bed to attend. For him, it was an annoyance but he decided to bear it with as much grace as possible. "How soon do you think before we can leave?"

"Certainly not before we've arrived," Storen said firmly.

Jir did not deign to answer this remark as he hauled himself out of the limo. He looked at Smig for inspiration: "Well, Mig. IT'S SHOWTIME."

Storen might have said something but the other side in dress uniforms was arriving so he held his tongue.

"They look better than us, Mig!" Jir stage whispered to his associate.

"More colorful, at least, Jira," Smig graciously allowed.

Greetings were politely exchanged and they proceeded up the walk together.

~

The Hierophant's first thought upon seeing Maja before him at the Klingon Embassy was to have sex, as fast and hard as possible.

This was agreeable to Maja. He was hardly undressed before he was bouncing up and down in the Hierophant's lap. It was something of a relief for the half Mage. The Hierophant was so simple, so direct and so easy to manage. Unlike certain Vulcans he could name. Both of whom appeared to have dumped him and in Spock's case, dumped him again.

'Oh, well, I knew Spock was taken when he got here.' He gave up thought as a wicked orgasm whipped up his spine and back down the front of his body.

It pushed Kroldt over the edge and Maja suddenly felt the cooler jism flooding his bowels. It was nice; he was pleased. They leaned against each other, panting for a while. Eventually, Maja rose and smoothed down his cassock.

"Oh, take that off," Kroldt growled. "You're not leaving here until morning."

"As it pleases you, Master."

~

"Why did the Federation send you in with such a weak case, Commander?" Sjrika, the youngest of the judges, asked bluntly between the second and third course.

"It wasn't such a weak case," Charbon answered for the exhausted Lapham. "It was just not as strong as the Defense's case."

"Ooo, well said!" Jir exclaimed. "I'll have to say that myself someday." 'If I ever lose, that is,' he added mentally.

"Did you enjoy the party, Lieutenant Sarfati?" Smig asked in the void.

"Yes," Sarfati answered, thinking how much more he'd enjoyed making love to Jaroslav Tikel after it. "Very much."

~

"What's KmordriYhet doing here?" Kroldt asked, boosting Maja onto his huge honey colored chest. "He hates you. With good reasons."

"He's after my son, Hraja."

"Why so?"

"Kmordri dragged Hraja into his bed on Romulus," Maja sighed sleepily. "The Klingon wants more, that's all."

"Well," Kroldt mused, trying to visualize Master Ghet's middle son. He'd always been more partial to Tien, so it took a moment for him to conjure up Hraja. "If you like blondes..."

~

"Well, that was illuminating," Jir said to Storen on the ride home after dropping Smig at the theater company's digs.

"It should not come as surprise to you that Hobie was acquitted on lack of evidence," Storen said serenely. "And not because these Judges think he is innocent. They believe in his guilt, as evidenced by the huge fine and probation for parking violations, however, the evidence simply wasn't there to convict on the other charges."

"Ummm," Jir observed. "Why do you 'spose the Federation sent those lawyers into court with such a weak case?"

"Mainly because the prosecution was rushed," Storen replied. "By us. No bail for Hobie equaled no continuances for the prosecution."

"That turned out to be helpful, didn't it?"

"Yes. But you do realize that the Court believed that Hobie would take his ships and run and they wished to avoid a major starship battle in Vulcan's orbit." Storen listened to Jir's silence for a moment. "Would he have run on bail?"

"I dunno, Vulcan," Jir said quietly. "I could no more foresee what Hobie would do on bail than... than I could foresee Stonet returning from Gol. By the way, how's your father?"

"Well."

"Storen."

"He has declared Stonet outlaw. There is nothing to be said or done now."

"Your father's a fool!" Jir felt a distinct chill emanate from the Vulcan. "Okay, he's not a fool. Stonet's a fool; I'm a fool; I'm a fool for Stonet. I love him; I can't help it."

"Jir," Storen said after a moment. "My elder brother has always gone his own way, in most cases this pleased my father. Stonet's decision to retire to Gol was a bad compromise but for my father, it was superior to having our house linked to you and your brothers."

"This is common knowledge, Storen."

"Yes, it is, but here's the part you appear not to understand: Stonet went to Gol because of something you did, not because our father disapproved of you. I know my brother well, Jir, and I warn you now: If you, as you say, love him, then do what you must to please him or he will leave you again." Storen looked hard at Jir: "I do not know what the cause of your rupture was but the effect was not enjoyable for me."

"Quivas."

"Quivas?"

"Quivas," Jir sighed. "We fought about quivas."

"The quiva fruit? Your rupture was over that?"

"It was the final blow for us, yes." Jir looked at his partner, who'd seen him through his grief and madness at losing Stonet. "It was so stupid, Storen, I said quivas were superior to uzusas and you know how much I like to win my arguments." Storen nodded. "Well, I went for blood on quivas' behalf and won my argument at the expense of my lover."

"I hope you have learned something from all of it."

"Of course," Jir snapped. "To hell with quivas; I can't even look at them anymore. And I've mellowed some as well."

"That is disputable."

"Well, as you please, Vulcan. How does your father's position affect you? In regards to me and Stonet?"

"My father will not speak of or acknowledge Stonet," Storen explained. "So I do not bring it up with him."

"Prudent," Jir observed.

"I am a Vulcan, Jira." Storen admitted. "However, I would like to see my brother. May I visit him at the Sas?"

"Of course," Jir said. "You're a big hero for getting Hobie off the hook and they've always had a high opinion of you. In fact, they prefer you to Stonet; they find him a little too mystical. They could never stand those Vulcan Institute theoretical linguists, like Stonet. Oh, by the way, you have a nephew you didn't know about." Jir explained the Hobiea situation and waited for a reaction. "Say something, Vulcan!" he demanded when none came.

"You're a madcap, Jir," Storen said at last, as the limo arrived at his door. "All you Talljets are madcaps. But I cannot imagine a life without you and I thank you for my brother's life and look forward to meeting my nephew and his brothers." Storen stepped out and was gone before Jir could answer. In many ways it was a good thing as Jir had no answer but tears not even he could explain.

* * *

"Well, I'd almost forgotten how comfortable a Vulcan robe was." Maja whipped his flowing charcoal colored skirts around him.

"Yeah, a loose baggy sack with nothing on underneath." Hobie shook out the skirts of his ocher draperies.

"I don't know what you've got on but I'm wearing a loincloth," Maja informed him. "I say we're lucky the Sas kept our party clothes for us. Ling says were broke again."

"He just sold my favorite ship!"

"That was your favorite ship?"

"They're all my favorite ships."

"Well, we're not paid yet and most of it goes to pay your parking ticket fine," Maja said dryly. "I think if I go straighten out the Certegians in the Ertig system, the Sovla system will fall in line with it. That would solve part of Ling's currency crisis."

"Only if you can kick out the Lashodrian pirates."

"I'm sure I can," Maja said. "Even with only sixty ships, I think so." He turned to the door. " Hemzjit! Fighting the Lashodrians will be easier than this fucking recital you talked me into." Maja got a little snappy when he was nervous.

Hobie kept his cool. "I asked you to sing, you said yes. I don't remember having to persuade you much."

"Humph!" Maja swept down the stairs and into one of the music rooms in a fair imitation of Jir in high dudgeon.

They settled themselves on cushions on the small rug covered stand. The Commune had unearthed a cache of ancient rugs in the mansion and the rug the three musicians sat on was almost as interesting to the Vulcans in the audience as they were. It was of a design that most Vulcans only see in history texts.

Hobie picked up his borrowed lyre. "I have to replace this string, Strat."

Strat handed him a coil of wire.

Because he'd never had it and couldn't get it, Hobie truly believed that sehlat gut was the far superior lyre string. The forgotten truth was that sehlat gut had so much elasticity it required retuning after every song, sometimes during the song. It had been a hell for the ancient Vulcans but Hobie didn't know this and would have refused to believe it anyway. "How do you play on this thing, Strat? These pegs are about as subtle as a Klingon battle charge." Hobie looked up and winked at Kzost seated between Voren and Jir, who had Hobiea on his lap.

"I don't have any problems with it, Hobie," Strat informed him. "It's my best lyre. Would you rather play this one?" He held out an equally excellent instrument that only he would be able to find flaws in.

"Nah," Hobie sighed. "I played that one once in the jailhouse, it's worse. I'll stick to this one."

Maja picked up a modern Brnia, now called a Svrava, but still a long necked four string drone instrument played by singers. He smiled sympathetically at Strat: "Had you forgotten what a hell it is to make music with Hobie?"

"No, nor had I forgotten what a rewarding hell it was."

"Oo-hoo, touche, Vulcan!" Maja, now that he was on stage, felt lighthearted. He looked out at the assembled Vulcans, Terrans and Klingons and felt invincible. Even Sarek was there, paying more attention to Maja than he had in days and that was a good thing. Spock was there. In addition to his lovers, he'd brought a beautiful little dark woman, who looked on with intelligent attention. Maja could feel that she knew something about this music, perhaps Spock had taught her.

'Once again, Spock's backing the wrong horse,' Hobie had said after telling him that Spock was bonded to Kirk and not McCoy as they had originally thought.

Maja switched his vision to energy field and confirmed it for himself. 'Damn you, VulCheq, must you always pick the one that will bring the most sorrow?' Disgusted, Maja went back to seeing in color and line.

Hobie finished stringing his lyre. Maja tuned the drone to his own voice and the lyre players tuned to his instrument. They paused for a moment to tune into each other and then they were off into an ancient hunting chant that had become an extremely long ballad about incidents no one could really comprehend anymore. It was hard music; hard to understand, hard to listen to. The vocal style had evolved so the singer could be heard over large areas of desert. It was a cross between a nasal whine and a scream of terror. Maja was one of the best singers of his generation in this style, he made even Strat swoon with his technique. The Vulcans enjoyed it as much as they enjoyed anything, the rest of the audience wondered what kind of a civilization could survive on such terrible music. Terrible and interminable. Each chorus had a small silence at the beginning and it was in the silence before the fifteenth chorus that a small voice spoke out: "Why is uncle Maja making that terrible noise?" Hobiea asked.

"An excellent question, child," Kzost said conversationally.

Three sets of fingers froze over their instruments.

"You don't like this music," Maja said, pinning Kzost with his driest stare. "Hobiea?" He added pointedly.

"No. It's terrible. It's ..." the child found it impossible to continue with Jir's finger over his lips.

"You know," Hobie drawled. "He might be right, that Hobiea."

"I would say," Strat opined. "That fourteen choruses might be enough ethnomusicology for one evening."

Maja nodded. "Are we taking requests, Strat?"

"Hochofedra," the Vulcan shrugged.

'Oh, Strat, you are so adorable tonight,' Maja thought but said: "Okay, Hobiea, whaddayawanna hear?"

"That song about the girl."

The band was completely stumped until Tien came to the rescue: "I think he means that love song wariyo that was so popular on Dhrgestera last year."

"Oh." Maja got 'we know it' nods from Hobie and Strat. "Good call. Hemzjit Hemzjit Hemzjit," he chanted off the rhythm and they were off into one of last year's loveliest melodies. From there they progressed to dance tunes, more love songs and even, in a fit of musical nostalgia, pop songs from their Vulcan youths. It turned out to be a wonderful evening, for the audience and everybody.

"I must get Hobiea a little thank you gift," Kirk murmured to McCoy during the break.

"Yes," the doctor murmured back. "I thought we were really in for it until he piped up."

"Vulcan music is hard," Hobie said, materializing beside Kirk. "But, it was, and is, a hard culture. Just look at Spock. He's half as tough as nails."

"You'll excuse me," McCoy said icily and walked away.

"Huh," Hobie observed, standing a little closer to the human than was really necessary. "Another Spock defender."

"Dr. McCoy does not like you," Kirk informed him.

"Oh? Why?"

"Ask him."

"I'd rather ask you," Hobie said suavely. "In fact, I'd rather forget everybody else and just talk to you for awhile."

Kirk found this flattering and alarming at the same time and was glad to see Chekov at his elbow.

"Admiral Jessup would like a word with you, Captain," the ensign said, politely.

"You'll excuse me," Kirk said to Hobie as he moved away.

"Oh, of anything, anything," the pirate drawled. "Having a good time, Chekov?"

"Yes, thank you."

"So am I," Hobie said, draping an arm around the youngster's shoulders. "At least, I am now." And steered him to the group around T'Paga, the perfect woman, to whom Chekov was introduced.

"I was enjoying your hunting chant, Maja," Voren said. "I've been away from Vulcan so long it was pleasant to hear the old music, especially when you perform it so well."

"Thank you, Voren," Maja said, smiling graciously at his beloved Kzost's beloved.

"I'm rather enjoying the memory of it more than when it was happening," Kzost said pleasantly.

"Are you enjoying the music, Lieutenant Uhura?" Maja asked, ignoring Kzost.

"Very much, thank you," she answered. "I was even enjoying the Vulcan music."

"You seemed to understand it. Where did you learn?"

"From listening to it and talking to Spock about it."

"He does know a lot about music," Maja said, remembering singing for Spock in their adolescence.

"I was reading about your homeworld, Maja. Do you know any Magidrian songs?" Uhura asked. There had been no musical or cultural information about Magidrian whatsoever in the databanks.

"I, uh," Maja fumbled, thinking fast and coming up blank. "I know some songs in the Patois. I don't think I know any in Magidrian." He looked searchingly at Voren. "I don't think I know any Magidrian, actually. Isn't that strange, Vulcan? I never thought about it before."

"What, then, did you speak there?" Uhura, something of a linguist herself, asked.

"Patois, Klingonese, Romulan, Standard, Gaelic..."

"Gaelic?" Uhura asked. "That's a Terran language."

"I knew a Terran that spoke it," Maja said, smiling at the memory of MacQuarrie's pleasure in speaking Gaelic with him. "He taught me."

"Taught you?" Voren asked.

"Well, whatever," Maja said, defensively.

"I have a theory about Magidrian and its lack of language," Voren said. "I could not find an indigenous living Magidrian language in my study of the inhabited areas of the planet. I believe this is because the Magidrians have evolved beyond the physical form of language and when they do need to communicate with non or very limited telepaths, they scan the language out of the other being's telefield. That's why you quickly acquire the language of any species you encounter, as long as you remain unshielded."

"Huh," Maja grunted. "Did you tell this to SaBrzia?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He said it was fascinating," Voren said. "And could I prove it."

"Can you?"

"No. Whatever welcome was on Magidrian is gone now. Any expeditions there have turned back due to fatigue or depression or some other mysterious ailment. An entire Rzigilian expedition committed mass suicide there."

"That's weird."

"Not really, Maja," Kzost said. "The Mage have closed up shop. They did it just as we were leaving. I was in a big hurry to get off that planet at the end. I never knew why until Voren figured out that the Mage simply sent out bad vibes to drive everybody off and keep the rest of the universe away."

"I didn't call it 'bad vibes,'" Voren gently corrected. "I said I thought it was a dissonant radiant telepathic energy field."

Kzost and Maja exchanged glances, nodding: "Bad vibes," they said in unison.

Maja saw Hobie and Strat heading back for more music. "Excuse me, I'm on," he said, heading to the platform and the lyre players.

The trio played for a while longer and then the Sas served another excellent supper and everybody went home well before dawn.

* * *

"How did we get roped into this?" Hobie wondered, looking out over the packed in auditorium audience for Jir and SaDrosta's dance recital in downtown Shirkar.

"Jir and SaDrosta asked us and we said yes," Strat informed him. He didn't like playing for dancers, he considered it barbaric for anyone to be doing anything but listening while he played, but he had never been able to say no to the combined forces of Jir and SaDrosta. He had been saying no to SaDrosta alone for the many years since Jir stopped dancing on Vulcan.

This was actually an historic occasion; no one had seen Jir and SaDrosta dance together on Vulcan in twenty years. No one had seen Jir dance in the Vulcan style in that long as well. His company had front row seats to see this remarkable event.

"Madness," Maja announced, settling himself between Strat and Hobie. "I have a bad feeling about this dress I'm wearing." Maja had arrived to find in his dressing room, not a Vulcan robe, but a long, full and intricately pleated gown that belted at the waist. It was quite flattering on him and it was what Vulcan court dancers had worn pre-Surak. It was what Jir and SaDrosta would also be wearing in the performance. "They better not think I'm dancing with them. I'm taking enough of a risk sitting up here singing for them as it is," he grumbled, arranging his skirts around him.

"I agree," Hobie said, gloomily. "We should be behind a screen or something. The way they whip those skirts around, we could lose an eye or be seriously maimed up here."

"And I don't even have an instrument to hide behind," Maja sulked. It was true, in this style of music, Maja's job was to clap out a rhythmic pattern for the dancers as he sang. His role was, in fact, to keep the whole performance together.

"Well, Maja," Strat said, tuning his third best lyre. "Set your rhythms fast and we'll be out of here in half the time it usually takes."

"And Jir and SaDrosta will kill us slowly when they catch us," Hobie put in. "No, there is simply some suffering that cannot be avoided and this be it, alas."

They and the audience fell silent as Jir and SaDrosta came on stage in their wide weighted pleats and took up their first positions. Maja set the tempo in ten beats and they began.

Vulcan court dancing is an amazing artefact from the pre-reform civilization. Its earliest origins are a mystery but the first traceable trajectory leads back to warrior dances in homage to the tribal chieftain.

The performance was an irresistible whirl of light and color. All the offworlders as well as the Vulcans were entranced and felt time suspend itself. Jir and SaDrosta were strong dancers, but no stronger than their peers seated in the front row with binoculars. The difference was in the passion and beauty they infused in their dancing that swept up their audience and made them possibly the best of their generation. It was also to their advantage that they were both beautiful and pre-reform court dress was extremely fetching on them.

Or at least that was what Spock was thinking but more along the lines of how much McCoy's black robe had reminded him of this costume.

The Klingons wondered briefly why they didn't have more Vulcan concubines in the Empire but then remembered that Vulcan beauty did not make up for the Vulcan personality.

The Terrans simply enjoyed themselves, especially Uhura; she never got enough live performance and was completely swept away.

Maja, on the other hand, was swept up, bodily, by Jir and SaDrosta.

'I knew this was coming,' he thought savagely, dancing the simple steps that all singers learned so they could be acknowledged at the end of the performance with the dancers. Maja looked utterly charming dancing but he was more pleased when it was over. They bowed politely and retired for the intermission.

Jir and SaDrosta retired to change out of their sweaty gowns and rest awhile but the musicians waded directly into the audience for drinks and snacks.

Hobie gravitated surreptitiously to Kirk's side: "Enjoying yourself, Kirk?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Doing anything after the show?"

"Yes."

"Like what?" Hobie asked when he realized he had to.

"I'm dining with Sarek, Spock and McCoy."

"Why don't you ditch them and I'll show you some fun in the Port," Hobie suggested with ardor.

"I think not," Kirk said coolly.

"Why not?"

"I'd rather dine with Sarek, Spock and Dr. McCoy."

"You don't know what you're missing, Kirk."

"I don't want to find out either." Kirk caught Spock's eye across the room and excused himself. Hobie wandered off to find a drink and regroup.

~

"I didn't know you could dance like that," the Hierophant murmured to Maja.

"Yes," Maja drawled, whipping open his fan and using it. "It's part of that hellish Vulcan education I've been trying to overcome in our religion, Master."

They strolled pleasantly to where Sarek and T'Pau were standing with Commodore Yakolev and Sdiz.

"Well done, SaMaja," T'Pau greeted him. "When was the last time you danced like that?"

"Last time you saw me, T'Pau," Maja said. "And then once more at the second party for T'Paga and Spoda's wedding." T'Paga had asked this same group to perform at her party and the perfect woman was never denied. Of course not, Strat and SaDrosta esteemed T'Paga and Spoda as much as the Talljets adored them. Maja and Hobie had left Vulcan a few weeks later.

From behind his fan, Maja winked at Sarek and excused himself; it was time to begin the second half of the program.

"Odd that I never noticed how attractive SaMaja was before," Sdiz observed.

"I believe he has only recently grown into his looks, Lord Sdiz," T'Pau said, moving off to return to her seat.

The performance was a huge success and was repeated once more and never again. Those involved became far too busy with other projects to have the time or energy necessary for another performance like it.

* * *

"So what are you getting out of Talljet?" Jessup asked Chekov. He had just debriefed Scott and Sulu: both had gathered quite a bit of useful information from Dolo-fra and Neria-Tza respectively. Especially Scott, since apparently without Hobie around, Dolo-fra was simply starved for someone to talk engines with.

"Well, nothing, really," Chekov said.

"Nothing? You've been with him for days. What do you talk about?"

"Food."

"Food?"

This was true. Hobie liked to cook and was spending most of his time in the Sas' kitchen. He kept Chekov with him.

"Are you having sex with Talljet?" Jessup asked bluntly.

"No, sir."

Also true, Hobie was behaving the perfect gentleman with Chekov. Every night he escorted the ensign to his chaste little bed in the Sa mansion and tucked him in. Hobie then immediately went to his workshop in the Port where he had so far made love to Jaroslav Tikel, Thomas Albany, Dmitri Grushinkev, and Carlos Sunna, in that order and at least once if not more than once. At least they knew what they were doing.

"Why not?"

"He has not made any overtures."

"Have you?"

"No!"

Jessup looked down the table at Kirk's bland face. Finding no help there he returned to Chekov. "Why not?"

"It had not occurred to me, sir."

"Give it some thought, Ensign. You're dismissed." He waited for Chekov to leave the room. "Spock, what's Talljet up to?"

"I do not know, sir."

"Kirk?"

"He seems to be visiting old friends, performing on the Vulcan lyre and playing with his children and nephews," Kirk said.

"The Fleet is arranging to buy one of Talljet's starships through a third party," Jessup said after some silence went by. "It might be a waste of money if, as Scott reports, the main difference between our ships and his is that his are manned by vulcanoids and are more powerful because they need less in the way of human comforts. What's your opinion, Spock?"

"That is possible, sir," Spock said. "However, I doubt that entirely accounts for Hobie's success. When I visited his ships in dry dock, I noted that each one was slightly different. I believe each of his ships is unique in its own way, as perhaps a prototype that never reaches its final form because advances are made and superseded by the next model. If Hobie has continued the train of thought he began here on Vulcan, then his ships are still operating on dilithium crystals but on a different spectrum of the crystal's light field. Unfortunately, you will not be able to know until you have one of these ships in your possession and I doubt Hobie will sell you one of his more advanced designs."

"In his place," Jessup growled, "I wouldn't." The admiral got to his feet. "We're finishing up with the Klingons today. If nothing else goes right at least we got the Rovirin situation straightened out."

Kirk nodded. He'd been attending the negotiations with Jessup and thought the solution of sharing the planet was a good one. It gave the Federation unlimited access to non-aligned space and it mollified the Klingons enough that they were willing to consider closer ties to the Federation. The agreement was also binding because the Hierophant and General KmordriYhet were acting directly for their clans. How fortunate that they both happened to come to Vulcan at the same time.

* * *

"Why not?"

"I despise him."

"You're being difficult, Hraja." Maja, in his serene Master Ghet mode, paced his studio. "Kmordri is no worse than any other of his species. You just need to learn how to manage him, that's all."

"I do not wish to manage him," Hraja said as firmly as he could; he was unused to arguing with his Master. "I do not wish to have anything to do with him at all."

Maja sat down across the table from his middle son. "Look, Hraja, I know he frightened you..."

"He raped me."

"Okay, he raped you. You don't seem permanently damaged."

"Amanda helped me."

'Direct hit, childe,' Maja thought ruefully.

"I would have died without her," Hraja continued.

"How so?"

"I would have killed myself."

Maja doubted this but said nothing. "Do you still want to be a Klingon Master?" he asked after some silence.

"Yes."

"You can't do that outside the Commune," Maja said. "Once you are in the Commune and at work on a commission for the greater glory of the Most Holy Klingon Church you will be in Kmordri's realm and nothing will keep you from him..."

"We always had the Haat's protection," Hraja protested.

"Yes, but Kmordri didn't know about you then," Maja said reasonably. "Now that he knows what he wants, which is you, not even the Haats can keep you safe from him."

"Is he that strong?"

"No, he's smart, Hraja. He'll offer the Haats something juicy and they'll bargain you away in a heartbeat. Because they're smart, too." Maja sighed. "And, frankly, Hraja, we in the Commune aren't that important in the larger Haat clan scheme of things. We were safe for a long time because of the Hierophant and because we were so far away from the power center. But those days are gone, child. You can now either make the best deal you can with Kmordri, and he's making you a decent offer, and he can keep you and the Commune safe, or you can make a life outside of the Commune and the Empire and hope for the best."

"Are those my only choices?" Hraja asked, horrified.

"Yes."

Hraja pulled himself together. "I will think about

it."

"Think hard. He'll be here any minute."

The MageQuad knocked his chair over as he leapt to his feet in alarm. He spun as Bhotebe scratched on the door and ushered Kmordri in. Hraja backed around the table until he was behind Maja's chair.

"Master Ghet," Kmordri bowed graciously. "Hraja." He took a seat at the table. "Has he agreed?" the Klingon asked Maja.

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"There is still some hesitation."

Kmordri frowned at Hraja and then softened his gaze, which was, in many ways, more frightening than the scowl. "Why ever?" he asked the object of his desire.

"You disgust me," Hraja croaked when he could find any voice at all.

"So? You please me," Kmordri said. "And that's all that really matters, isn't it?"

Hraja had no reply and was quite relieved when Jir stuck his head around the door.

"I," Jir proclaimed, "smell blood." He looked at the tableau before him. "Now, let me see. You, Klingon, are not supposed to be anywhere near my nephew, Hraja. Is this not so?"

"I am Master Ghet's guest," Kmordri snarled.

"Then Master Ghet has fucking awful taste in guests," Hobie said murderously as he stepped around Jir. "Hraja, Neria-Tza and Oza-Tol are outside. Leave the room and stay with them until I or your uncle Jir come for you." He waited until Hraja had slipped out of the room. "Klingon, I would kill you now but I'm told the peace and prosperity of the galaxy depends on you and the Hierophant returning to your homeworld in one piece. I want you to forget my nephew and, just so nobody is surprised later, I am going to kill you the very first opportunity I get off Vulcan. Understand me?"

Kmordri looked at Master Ghet: "Your brother is mad, priest."

Maja nodded: "I tried, Klingon."

"You failed." Kmordri rose and left the room. He was gone from Vulcan that day and never returned in his life, which was long because Hobie never got around to acting on his threat. Just as well, Kmordri pined for Hraja until the day he died. It was a rather fitting punishment overall.

Maja surveyed his elder brothers: "You two are possessed of such arrogance. You're willing to trade the good of the entire Commune and all our ventures to spare Hraja a little discomfort."

"It is not necessary to prostitute Hraja to Kmordri," Hobie growled. "Or to anyone."

"But it's fine if I whore for you with the Hierophant?"

"No one asked you to do that, Maja," Jir said.

"Shut up, Jir," Maja snarled. "You were curled in your Vulcan bed while I was protecting my family in the only way open to me in the Empire."

Jir was silenced.

"Those days are over, Maja," Hobie said.

"Are they, Nolo?" Maja asked. "We have seventy-nine ships, an unemployed Klingon Commune, an out of work theater company and a homeless whorehouse. Just how long will that hold us in the Zones, brothers?"

Hobie was silenced.

"And when we are fighting for our lives again," Maja continued, "I hope you will remember that you threw away a liaison with the next head of the Yhet clan so Hraja would not be 'prostituted.' You've forgotten your Vulcan educations, remember, the needs of the many and the needs of the few."

"Maja," Hobie said at length. "Hraja is your son. He is your little baby. You love him. You don't want bad things to happen to him."

"Kmordri is not the worst thing ..."

"Hraja is terrified of that Klingon," Hobie continued. (Jir was wisely staying out of this one.) "You are refusing to see that. The difference between you and Hraja is that you are not now nor were you ever afraid of the Hierophant, you were raised to be more pragmatic and ruthless than Hraja and you're tougher all around."

"Hraja is tough, he ..."

"Not," Hobie cut in, "like you; like us." He paused to stare his Noli down. "And you know it."

"All right," Maja sighed at last. "I'll figure something else out." He shot Hobie a sulky glare as if daring him to gloat.

"Don't despair, MajaYaja," Hobie comforted. "You still have the Hierophant and the Haats; the sun in the morning and the moon at night."

"Oh, bravo, thank you, Hobie," Maja snarled. "I feel better already." He sighed. "You do realize that I can't protect Hraja in the Commune if he returns to it?"

"I don't think he should go back to the Commune," Hobie said. "Nor MajaKhat; it's too dangerous."

"But not too dangerous for me?" Maja asked.

"No, Maja, because you were never Kmordri's concubine nor were you ever the Emperor of the Combined Klong-Rom empire," Hobie reminded him. "You're just St. Gozine's reincarnation. I think you'll be safe."

"When are you leaving, Maja?" Jir asked quietly after a moment.

"In two days," Maja said. "I'm taking sixty ships and putting Malira, Qwuushi, Ebiv, and Movra in commands..."

"Kalzat is complaining that you aren't taking him," Hobie cut in.

"I have a bad feeling about taking him," Maja said.

"You need him, Maja," Hobie said.

"I could go," Jir offered.

"No offense, Jira," Hobie said. "But Kalzat is a better commander and tactician than you, even if he does not dance as well."

"How bad is your feeling, Maja?" Jir asked.

"Very bad."

"Try to feel better about it because you need him and you're taking him," Hobie said, rising. "Come, this is Voren and Kzost's last evening here. We're spending it en famille."

The three brothers shook off what lingering negativity was between them and went down to their families, adopted, spiritual and otherwise.

* * *

'There was a fire.'

The Talljets, JetCheqs, Sas, Stez, Stonet, Kalzat, Khatanya and Chekov had a lively farewell dinner for SaVoren and Kzost. Kzost and his ships would be escorting the Hierophant back to the Empire. Then Kzost would return to his semi-retired state, far away from the Empire in a system heavily populated with vulcanoids, where Voren did not attract too much attention.

'When I was very little.'

The party settled into one of the ground floor drawing rooms for tea. Hobie played Shakaars on his borrowed lyre so Jir and Khatanya could finish the dance Stonet's return from Gol had interrupted.

'One night one of the women pulled me out of bed.'

Soon everyone was chatting and relaxed. Kzost, after serious scrutiny by the Sas, had been accepted as a member of the clan provided he behaved himself.

'It was very cold. Many buildings were on fire.'

Kzost said that he had behaved himself for the past thirty years and he thought he could probably continue to do so.

'People were running and screaming everywhere.'

"You know, Hobie," Kzost asked while the MageCheq was taking a break from playing. The Talljets were sitting in their usual formation: Hobie and Jir on the outside, Ling and Maja between them. "I was wondering, how did you and your brothers end up at that monastery?"

"There was a fire," Hobie said quietly. Jir's eyes went out. Maja put his arm protectively around Ling.

"You mean the huge fire in the pleasure district?" Kzost asked. Hobie nodded yes. "That happened about a year before I arrived. No one ever knew how it started."

"The new pleasure district was a tinderbox as well, Kzost," Voren reminded him. "One spark and the whole thing would have conflaged."

"So you remember this fire, do you?" Kzost asked.

"Yes, vividly," Hobie resumed. "I was trying to keep up with one of the women but I got lost in the crowd. People were running and screaming and I was lost and crying. I found a doorway to rest in. I think I fell asleep because next I remember it was near dawn and the fires were dying. I went looking for some of the women. I found Jir; he was trying to wake up a dead cat. He had some food and he shared it with me. We found Maja and Ling nearby. They were so little. They were tied together at the waist to keep them together. Maja was carrying a sleeping Ling and he was so tired. At first he didn't want to let me carry Ling, he was afraid he would lose him. So we found a longer piece of string to tie them together, long enough so I could carry Ling and Maja could follow beside, and he agreed. He held my elbow and Jir's hand and we walked and walked, looking for something we could never find. I remember this because that's when we bonded, I remember I could suddenly know and feel what they were feeling and they me. And that's when I stopped feeling so scared. I was still scared but not crazy scared."

"I remember the same thing, Hobie," Jir said quietly.

The room had fallen silent to listen. "How old were you, Hobie?" SaVoren asked.

"Eight or nine." Hobie said.

"Do you remember this Jir?" Voren asked.

"Some."

"Maja?"

"No. I remember something bad happened and then Ling and I lived in the monastery with Jir and Hobie," Maja said. "But not exactly what happened."

"Ling?"

"No. The earliest I remember is living in the monastery with the Talljets," Ling said softly, nestling against Jir.

'Dearest god,' Kzost thought. 'Then Maja was...'

"Maja was four or five, Ling two or three, Jir six or seven," Hobie ticked off in answer to Kzost's thought. "At least I think so, none of us really know when we were born," he sighed. "Anyway, we roamed around, looking for our homes but we couldn't find them. Everything was burnt, people were picking through the rubble, taking away the dead. We were hungry and cold and didn't know what to do. We saw an old woman and asked her if she knew where our houses were. She didn't but she took us to her little room and gave us something to eat and a place to sleep. We woke later and the old woman took us up to the monastery's garden and told us to stay there until the monks found us. She said she would pray for us; I think she did. The monks did find us later and Father Polmira decided to let us stay with them. We were lucky, I guess, lots of people starved that winter because of that fire. We never saw the old woman again, I never saw any of the women I remember from my house, Jir, Ling and Maja can't remember anyone from their houses so they don't know if any survived. No one ever came looking for us, maybe they just forgot us or thought we died or perhaps they all died, after all." The room was still and silent. "Kzost, why did you take an interest in us?" Hobie finally asked. "I saw Khatanya leaving sacks of food in the monastery garden, I thought it was your orders."

"It was."

"Well, why? It's seems so unusual for a Klingon."

"I'm an unusual Klingon."

"But why?" Hobie persisted.

"Because," Kzost sighed, "I liked watching Maja and you Talljets run around in the bazaar. You all had such spirit and fire, even as children. It took some of the boredom off Magidrian for me. I liked watching Maja stuff his face with cake but only if he knew there was enough to take back to you and Ling and Jir, too. I thought that was very sweet, loyal and honorable," he continued. "And I hoped that he would grow up and dance a Shakaar with me but he never has."

"Well that's easy to remedy!" Maja leapt to his feet and reached for his favorite of all Klingons. "Play, Hobie! Life is short; no time to waste!"

Hobie picked up his lyre and played, watching Maja and Kzost dance their first and last Shakaar. Others joined them and the party resumed in good but more sober spirits. As he played he mused over a stanza of one of Ling's poems:

'memories do not hurt you

certainly they can

the past is always with us

never turn away'

The next morning the Klingons left Vulcan with a peace agreement between the Empire and the Federation that endures to this day.

Later in the evening of the next day, Maja left Vulcan's orbit at the head of sixty ships with Malira, Ebiv, Movra, Qwuushi and Kalzat in commands. They were bound to calm and reclaim the Etrig and its sister systems in the interests of the brothers Talljet.

* * *

"How old am I, Jir?" Hobie demanded, driving the aircar as they were leaving one of SaGolia's uproarious tea parties.

"Somewhere between forty and death," Jir informed him.

"I'm forty-four," Hobie fumed. "Nearly forty-five and that old woman treats me like a child."

"She treats everyone younger than T'Pau like a child, Hobie," Jir soothed. "Don't take it personally. It's part of Vulcan culture. One more reason not to live here, remember?"

"And parking," Hobie snapped

"Parking?"

"Parking," Hobie snarled. "Downtown Shirkar parking. There isn't any. It's a crime, it's unnatural, it's ..."

"The city planners want people to take public transportation, Hobie."

"It's barbaric."

"Hobie, why are we downtown anyway?" Jir asked.

"I want to see if I can find a place to park."

"Hobie."

"Okay, I have to talk to Sarek about Polmira," Hobie said, swerving to the curb. "I promised I'd meet him at his office, that's all." He hauled himself out of the vehicle and slammed the door.

"Is it wise to see him alone?" Jir asked sliding behind the wheel.

"Yes. Why not? Not to worry, it's over and done between us," Hobie said coolly. "Even the damage to his career is repaired with the peace deal he, T'Pau and the Terrans worked out with the Klingons."

"Hey!" Jir called. "How will you get home?"

"I'll take public transportation, Jir," Hobie threw over his shoulder as he entered the Vulcan Interplanetary Ministry office building.

Sarek met him in the lobby and suggested they go to Hobie's villa in the mountains and talk. It would be more private.

Hobie's second sight tried to kick in but it was viciously suppressed. The MageCheq knew a really excellent bad idea when he saw it and gladly flung wisdom, propriety and good sense to the wind on the Forge as he readily agreed. They took Sarek's car to the mountains.

* * *

"So what are you getting out of Talljet?" Jessup asked Chekov a few days later. He had just debriefed Scott, who had no new information since Dolo-fra had gone off with Master Ghet's expedition to the Ertig system, and Sulu, whose observations on the various ways Neria-Tza liked to be tied up shed no new light on Hobie Talljet's activities. Chekov was Jessup's only hope, god help him (Jessup, that is). "Well?"

Chekov dutifully recounted everything that had happened since his last meeting with the admiral: Several parties - Chekov had been in the vortex of the Shirkar A-list season for days - family dinners; shopping in the Port; a visit to Hobie's workshop in the Port, which contained a very large bed and very little related to shipbuilding that Chekov could see; the dinner for Kzost and Voren. The ensign included the story of the fire and the gossip that Hobie threatened to kill KmordriYhet.

Jessup considered panicking at this last but then realized if Hobie wanted KmordriYhet dead, he would already be dead. The reality was that Kmordri and the Hierophant were safely on their way to the Klingon homeworld and all was well.

"I did, ah, try to take your advice, sir," Chekov said, breaking into Jessup's Klingon thoughts.

"Which was?" Jessup asked, looking into the ensign's earnest young face.

"To seduce Hobie."

"Oh? How'd it go?"

"My first opportunity was the night of the party for Admiral Kzost and SaVoren's departure.

"The party broke up very late and Hobie took me upstairs as usual. We were in my bedroom and he was helping me undress. When I laid down, he pulled the covers up and sat on the edge of the bed. He kissed me on the forehead, this was normal.

"I usually just say goodnight, but that night I put my arms around his neck. He looked surprised but did not resist when I pulled him down into a kiss. He kissed me back but then gently broke it.

"I said, 'Stay with me tonight.'

"He looked deeply into my eyes and said, 'I'm just not ready to go that far yet, Chekov. Will you wait? I think I'm worth the wait.'"

(Hobie actually had a date with Carlos Sunna and wasn't psyched up for the time and effort it would have taken to deflower Chekov just right then. Tomorrow, the next day but not that night.)

"What did you say, Ensign?" Jessup asked, fascinated.

"I said 'of course we'll wait' and he left and I went to sleep."

"Ah," Jessup said in the silence.

"I haven't seen him at the Sas' in two days," Chekov concluded.

"Odd, that's about the last time anyone saw Lord Sarek," Jessup observed. "You're dismissed, Ensign."

* * *

"I'm surprised you kept this place all these years," Hobie murmured as he walked through the elegantly appointed rooms of his villa.

"It is still yours, Hobie," Sarek said quietly.

"I must owe you a bundle for upkeep," Hobie looked over his shoulder.

"You owe me nothing, Hobie," Sarek said, stepping onto the secluded balcony. "I thought if you Talljets are short of cash you could borrow from me until you sell this villa. Or simply borrow from me." He turned to find Hobie watching him closely, tapping gently on his shields. "I am related to you by blood."

"And more, Sait, or have you forgotten Maja's sacrifices?"

"I have forgotten nothing."

They stood in silence, watching the mountains darken from coral to umber.

"What about Polmira?" Hobie asked at length.

"You will leave here in six weeks," Sarek said. "What are your plans for your children?"

"I might leave them here with their cousins in the Commune," Hobie said. "They're happy here, they're doing well in school, Polmira's madly in love with Strig, why I don't know, but I never understood Spock and Maja or Jir and Stonet." He looked hard at Sarek. "I still don't understand Jir and Stonet, but hochofedra," he shrugged.

"Your children and Maja's seem inordinately fond of the Lady Amanda," Sarek said. "If they stay here my wife and I will offer whatever assistance is appropriate and that you and Maja approve of."

"Are you through with Maja, Sait?"

"I think he is through with me for the moment, Hobie."

"Well, the Hierophant is important to the Commune."

"And now the Hierophant is gone, so is Maja."

"He was the only one of us that could go do what is needed, Sarek."

"And what is needed?"

"Nothing I can tell you about, please don't ask me."

They were silent again. "Very well," Sarek said at last. "If and when Maja decides to return to me, I will take those decisions at that time."

"Prudent, Vulcan, wise," Hobie murmured to the dusk. He moved close and pressed his lips to Sarek's. "You never loved me, did you?"

"I am a Vulcan, Hobie. You got as much as I had to give."

"But Maja got more," Hobie whispered intently. "You can still see it on both of you."

"Different circumstances," Sarek murmured, pulling Hobie close and kissing him deeply. "A different life."

Hobie relaxed in Sarek's arms. There was that, that sense of safety and serenity he had with this man and no other. They would never build an empire on it but they might have a few nice days together.

* * *

"Any idea where Hobie is, Chekov?" Jir asked, sliding into a vacant seat at the fountain design contest award ceremony.

Tien, Hraja and Farro's design had indeed won and would be constructed nearby. There was a small ceremony where the actual award disk was given to the designers and a reception afterwards. In addition to the Sas, the Commune, the theater company, and Ling's joyhouse, most of the Shirkar A-list was there, and all of their classmates. Almost everyone who had formed some kind of attachment to either Tien, Hraja or Farro or one of the other JetCheqs was there.

"I'm sorry, I've no idea," Chekov said. "I thought you were all bonded and knew where the others were at all times."

"Not when he's shielding, we don't," Jir said, thinking: 'Especially not when Hobie's up to no good somewheres.' But said: "We need a little telepathic privacy now and then, you dij?"

"Completely," Chekov assured him.

"I thought you might," Jir murmured, looking over Hobie's current crush. Hobie always 'operated' a little better when he was slightly in love. So he was slightly in love with Chekov but none of the Talljets believed the ensign, however adorable, was Hobie's real sexual target. They were at a loss to know who was because Hobie was very shielded on that point. That's how they knew it wasn't Chekov - his affection for the ensign was a little too obvious, too stagy. "Shhh!" Jir hissed at the silent young man beside him. "It's starting!"

The award was presented. Farro stepped forward to accept it and say a few words of thanks.

Jir nearly bit his tongue in half to keep from laughing.

~

"... this is a desert!" Farro was saying as Hobie slipped into the seat next to Chekov. "It's high time you people admitted that."

~

"What is this child raving about?" SaGolia whispered to SiJidi.

"I've no idea," he said.

"A desert," Farro repeated. "All I've seen in Shirkar are lots of fountains in enviro bubbles to keep the water from evaporating. That's ridiculous ..."

~

"...and unnatural. This is a desert and the only sensible art is art that reflects that. Dry art."

'Hmmm,' thought Spock, watching the broadcast with his mother. 'Logical. He might be right. He might ...' Spock was, however, distracted from this profound train of thought by Amanda rolling off the couch in helpless, abandoned laughter as he had seldom ever seen her do.

~

"Denial." Farro stated. "You're all in denial about who you are. It's high time you accepted that and got on with your lives." He glared down at Bhotebe tugging on his sleeve. "WHAT!" he hissed furiously at the child.

"Master Dhec says to say thank you, sit down and shut up." Having bravely delivered his message, Bhotebe returned to his seat.

"Thank you." Farro sat between Tien and Hraja, who were writhing with suppressed laughter even though they would probably catch hell later for letting Farro speak so long. But, oh, it would be worth it.

* * *

Hobie made sure a copy of Farro's performance was transmitted directly to Maja on the Maria Norris and the crews were cheered to hear him howling with happy laughter from it. They even joined him.

They all needed a laugh - it was the first light moment they had had in weeks of heavy fighting.

* * *

"So, was it difficult?" Ling, in labor, asked nervously.

"Nah," Hobie assured her.

"Piece of cake, dahling," Jir drawled. "Not to worry."

Hobie and Jir were actually a little worried. Ling had been in labor for three hours. This was odd, the usual Talljet first labors were only about forty-five minutes. Maja had gone an hour and fifteen with Tien but birthing on a Klingon battlecruiser might make anyone hesitate.

"Tell me again about Tien's birth," Ling asked, hoping to be distracted.

"Well," Hobie sighed. "I supported Maja's shoulders, like Jir is yours, and Kzost caught Tien. It was kinda funny, really, because Tien just flew out of Maja's body like a rocket and slammed into Kzost's chest." Hobie chuckled at the memory. "You shoulda seen that Klingon's face."

"Is that when he dropped Tien on his head?" Jir asked innocently.

"Tien has never landed on his head in his life, Jir," Hobie reminded him.

"Oh, sorry, my mistake."

But Ling was laughing and that was a good thing. This was really frightening, it was frightening in the same out of control way ... the way it had been on Magidrian. She couldn't let go, couldn't give up enough control to let this baby be born.

Jir, supporting Ling's shoulders, stroked his sister's damp hair. "Ling, you have to try, you have to trust us. You're safe, it's all right, we're all here. Nothing can hurt you."

"Ling," Stez said gently. "You're safe. Now, what about giving me my son?"

This had some effect, Ling began to relax a little. Hobie guided Stez into a position to catch the baby. He took Ling's hands and directed a steady stream of energy and encouragement into her. 'Hey ho here we go. I hope.' Hobie and Jir were wincing a little, empathing labor is always painful but this prolonged labor was especially bad. 'C'mon, little sister, that soul is ready to come this way or go back but not to stay put. C'mon c'mon c'mon.'

* * *

"I see them, Mizat," Maja growled, watching a hundred ships of the combined forces of the Certegians and Lashodrians drawing into formation. "Bring her around, Oza-Tol. Commanders into position."

* * *

"They won't let me watch," Farro announced to anyone who'd listen.

"Perhaps they fear you will lecture Ling on the fact that since she is giving birth, therefore she is female and should accept that fact and get on with her life," Qhoshi observed icily. She had not been amused by Farro's acceptance speech because she'd come to hold the Vulcan's in high esteem during her sojourn there. They were a fine species and what they lacked in the chaos of emotion they more than made up for in logic and order. She would, however, be glad to go home to Dhrgestera and back to business as usual.

"Thanks, Qhoshi," Farro snarled. "You really know how to kick a guy when he's down." Farro, as well as Tien and Hraja, were under what they called 'Commune arrest' for his unfortunate remarks.

Hobie strolled into the room, looking happy and tired. "God help us all, there's another JetCheq in the universe and he's named SaKzostVo, after our favorite Vul-Klong couple." He slapped Farro on the shoulder. "I hope he grows up to be just like you Farro. Honest. Straightforward. Opinionated. Observant."

Qhoshi rolled her eyes and said nothing. She left the room to see if Ling needed anything.

Farro hugged his uncle and found Hobie was trembling. "Uncle? Are you all right?"

"I am, Farro. I love you JetCheqs so much," he said softly. "Sometimes it overwhelms me."

* * *

Maja watched the battle from the bridge of the Maria Norris. It was hard fighting but they were winning.

Malira had command of the Zoltir and ten ships with it. She was drawing fire and pulling a formation of Lahsadorians toward her, exposing their flanks to attack from Ebiv in the Maja and his ships.

Kalzat in the Tien was moving his ships into position to support Movra in the Yaja. A little more and the Certegians and Lashodrians would be cut off from each other and cut off from a straight route out of this space.

Maja watched, waiting for the rebels to be driven into his ships. They were very ready for them.

* * *

"I could give you a lift."

"I don't wish to impose."

"It would be my pleasure, Kirk."

Against his better judgment but far too curious, Kirk got into the aircar with Hobie.

"Where to?" the pirate asked politely.

"Do you know where Sarek and Amanda's villa is?"

"Yes. Quite well."

* * *

'Thank you o' merciful Talljet-loving unknowable mind of god,' Maja thought as the Lashodrians, realizing, like good pirates, when to cut their losses, fled. He sent four ships after them just to make sure they didn't change their scalawag minds.

With more than half their forces gone, Maja had expected the Certegians to surrender. They did not. They simply began to fight with even more fury and cunning than before.

* * *

"I wish I could get your attention, Kirk," Hobie commented as they neared the villa.

"You have it."

"In bed, I mean."

"I have no erotic feelings for you, Talljet," Kirk said coolly.

"Is that a problem?"

"Yes."

"Hochofedra," Hobie shrugged. "I must be losing my touch as a seducer. I'll have to work on it and try again."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Really?"

"Really," Kirk affirmed. "I'm not enjoying it."

"Huh."

They arrived at the villa at the same time as Spock and McCoy. Hobie got a cold shoulder from the doctor and asked Spock about it.

"He doesn't trust you, Hobie," the Vulcan informed him.

"Not many do, Spock," Hobie observed good naturedly. "But they all like me and he doesn't."

"Dr. McCoy doesn't mince words or actions, Hobie," Kirk told him.

"I'll leave you then," Hobie said pleasantly. "Do say good-bye to Dr. McCoy for me."

* * *

/What was that?/

"Ahead full!" Maja barked moving his ships in to support Kalzat, who was overwhelmed.

/What was it?/

Finding a fight on their flanks, the Certegains around Kalzat and his ships split their forces in half to deal with the new threat. Kalzat, sensing this weakening, put all his forces into breaking the line of Certegian ships between him and the planet itself. He was so intent, neither he nor the three ships next to him saw the battlecruisers come up behind them.

/What is it?/

Maja did not see it or feel it until he saw the blast of three ships exploding and the short death cry of two hundred and eighty-five beings.

"Master!" Oza-Tol shouted from the helm.

"Hold this line, Oza," Maja grated out of his closed throat. "Push them back into the hole Kalzat has made for us. Fire at will."

~

"How are Ling and the baby?" McCoy was asking Jir over dinner in the Sa Mansion when Tien fainted in the next room.

* * *

"We are victorious, Nolo," Maja said numbly to Hobie on the viewscreen of the Maria Norris. "The Certegians will turn Aczira over to us tonight. I plan to leave Malira and enough ships in charge of the system on Ovtar. I hope it was worth it. We lost three ships; Kalzat, Qwuushi and Dolo-fra among the dead."

Hobie was silent. He had lost ships, too, but he'd never seen how devastating it must look on someone else. But then again, he'd never lost anyone he considered a son, never lost anyone who would be mourned by the people closest to him. He decided not to tell Maja that Tien was ill and had been since Kalzat, Hobie surmised, died. "What are you going to do to the Certegians?"

"I've done it," Maja said flatly. "I've sent their fleet to Povarb to be refurbished for us. I've sent their children to Ovtar with Malira to be raised by our people. I want the next two or three generations to be more understanding of us. I want this generation to understand that they have lost the future and have nothing left to fight us for." Maja paused for Hobie to comment.

"Well done, Maja."

"I'm on my way back. Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Hobie lied. Tien had fainted and not regained consciousness yet but there was no point in telling this to Maja, who could do nothing.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Hobie," Maja said quietly, trying to control his voice. "Please ask the Masters for me to please build ... build a memory altar."

"I will, Maja. Where?"

"Where ever," Maja said. "We'll move it to Povarb or Ovtar when we leave but," he swallowed painfully, "but I want to have a ceremony to honor the dead as soon as I get back. Please."

"Of course, Noli, of course," Hobie soothed. "The second you return. Hurry. Hurry." Blackness swallowed the viewscreen again.

"Master?" Mizat asked quietly. "I owed Qwuushi ten doubloons. I wish I'd paid them."

"When we get back to Vulcan, you can put them on the altar," Maja said rising and turning to the turbolift. "Next to my head," he muttered as the doors closed on him. 'Oh, Kalzat,' Maja sighed in his mind. 'You're free of all this misery but what shall we do without you?'

* * *

"I cannot help him," T'Lau said, rising from Tien's bedside. "He is in a deep psychic state such as I have never seen before. I believe it will only be a matter of time before he returns to consciousness or his body dies." She nodded to SaCriz, Smvit, Jir and Hobie as she left.

"What now?" Smvit asked. Not even Hobie and Jir could reach Tien; T'Lau had been their last hope.

"Pray for god's mercy," Hobie said, he turned and followed Jir out.

* * *

Chekov found Hobie in Maja's studio, sitting on the purple couch and staring at the mural. Actually Hobie was staring at the back of his own mind in an effort to get to grips with the fact that three ships and two hundred and eighty-five of his people were dead. He was chanting each of their names so they would know their bodies were dead and to leave this plane. He was on his eighth time through the list. He didn't hear the ensign come in.

"I brought you some tea," Chekov said quietly.

Hobie shifted his attention. "Thanks," he murmured.

"I heard about the ships," Chekov faltered. "I'm sorry."

Hobie finished his list and looked up into Chekov's concerned brown eyes. He might have brushed the hair out of them except it was too much effort.

"You look exhausted, Hobie. When was the last time you slept?"

"I dunno," Hobie said dully. "Sometime."

Chekov moved a little closer and put his arms around Hobie's neck. He was gratified when Hobie laid his head on his chest and relaxed. "Come and lie down with me."

"Chekov," Hobie sighed. "I'm really not up for anything."

"Just to sleep," Chekov gently insisted, getting Hobie horizontal on the couch. "I will just watch over your sleep." Chekov pulled off his boots and lay down on the couch next him.

Hobie shifted them about so he was lying in Chekov's arms and went to sleep for the first time in days. He did not dream of his ships or his people so they must have all gone on to the next life.

* * *

/... we suffer here in this bag of blood and flesh ... rejoice that he is free ... you cannot join him ... you're not done here or you would be gone by now .../

/... let me go .../

/... no one holds you .../

/... then help me break the last cord .../

/... we love you Tien ... don't leave us .../

/ ... don't leave us .../

When he felt Tien's telefield radiating around his body again and sleeping normally, Laninin slipped away and went back to his own bed. He slept very deeply until Ro woke him with the news that Tien was awake at last and asking for food.

The unknowable mind of god be praised.

* * *

Hobie woke in Chekov's arms and had to seriously re-evaluate his opinion of the limits of human compassion. He felt a sigh of relief go though the JetCheqs and got up to investigate. He found Tien awake and asking for food. He flung himself into the kitchen to cook and praise the mercy of the unknowable mind of god.

Chekov came down and helped him with the cooking part.

* * *

A few days passed, sadly but peacefully.

The Commune worked on the altar and it was beautiful. They set it in the far end of the garden to await Maja's return.

Ling took the baby to the office and began re-raveling the currency markets in the Sovla system.

Jir had a lawyerly argument with Commodore Yakolev and Lieutenant Sarfati as to whether the reports of Maja's actions in the Ertig system could be construed as piracy. He was able to convince them that they were not, mainly because the Ertig system fell outside of the Federation's jurisdiction and that the reports of Maja's battles there were unsubstantiated and unverifiable. They dropped it but Jir could tell they'd love to have another Talljet in the dock if they could. He felt better after he talked to Smig and Storen. They agreed the Federation didn't have a case, not even a remote one, against Maja. That was good; Maja had enough on his mind already.

Hobie's remaining nineteen ships were granted permission to orbit Vulcan. Sixteen of them departed for the now tranquil space of the Tossarian Autonomous Zone where they would help rebuild what had been lost in the wars.

Hobie spent his nights sleeping in Chekov's arms. But that was all they did and it was enough for both of them.

Tien came slowly back to life. He grieved and nothing but time would help him with that. Numbly, he worked on the altar as if in its creation he could understand that Kalzat was not coming back, ever, and he could stop waiting for him. Stop listening for his step, his voice, the feel of his arms. So he worked but it didn't help much.

The Commune suffered with him. Kalzat had been one of them and now he was gone.

* * *

Maja docked the Maria Norris in orbit around Vulcan and transported directly into Hobie's workshop, where he flung himself into his Nolo's arms and wept.

They went together to the memorial at the altar. Maja was nearly undone seeing Mizat lay Qwuushi's ten doubloons on the altar.

And then it was over. They had all said good-bye to their shipmates and friends.

'See you in the next life, farewell. Now we return to this one. Pity us in our bags of blood and shit until we are free as you are.' And let them go. Godspeed. Godspeed.

Except Tien, who was still waiting for something.

* * *

'I'd like to see his face when you tell him,' Kalzat was laughing.

Tien smiled in his sleep, expecting to roll back into his lover's arms. He woke with a start and felt the familiar dread descend. 'Still dead, aren't you, Klingon? Why, why, why, why, why?' This was the third time the same dream had woken him before dawn. 'I can't bring you back to life, Kalzat, and I haven't the guts to join you, but I can grant your last wish,' Tien thought sadly. 'But I will miss you even more when you stop haunting my dreams.' Pulling on a robe, he went in and woke up Master Khat. "I need your help."

* * *

Hobie and Jir were trying not to spend too much time hanging around the Sa mansion. They certainly had better things to do but that afternoon they lingered past lunch and were very interested to see MajaKhat greet Spock at the front door and lead him into the house. Affecting not to notice, the pair sauntered off in different directions and circled around until they were within earshot of MajaKhat's studio. They could hear Tien talking within: "... appreciate that you have come," Tien was saying. "I had not planned to tell you this but certain things have happened that have changed my mind. It was almost the last thing Kalzat and I talked about. He wanted to see your face when I told you that you're my father," he blurted.

There was some silence.

"That will require verification," Spock said.

"What kind of verification?" MajaKhat asked coldly.

"A simple DNA scan."

Tien said nothing but his uncles could feel his devastation. They slipped away like shadows.

~

"Don't you believe me?" Tien asked at last.

"You are in the correct age range for me to have fathered you," Spock said. "However, there is some doubt in my mind. I have suspected you might be Hobie's child."

"So, what you are saying," Master Khat snarled, "is that Gozine might not only be a whore but an incestuous whore?"

~

"What the fuck did Tien expect from Spock but a slap in the face?" Jir fumed. He looked into Hobie's dead eyes and felt somewhat alarmed. He had not seen Hobie look this way since before they left Magidrian.

"I'm finished forgiving SpockDeVulCheq," Hobie said quietly. "I'm finished with his hurting them I love."

~

"I do not mean to imply that," Spock said. "I simply wish to verify your statement with irrefutable physical proof."

"Shall I cut out his heart for you, VulCheq?" Master Khat snarled.

~

"What will you do?"

"Take from him what he most treasures," Hobie said coldly. "As casually as he has just taken that from Tien."

~

"I merely require a strand of his hair," Spock said reasonably.

Tien pulled one loose and handed it to him. He and Master Khat watched Spock leave the room without a word.

"Feel better?" Master Khat asked.

"You know," Tien smiled sadly, "I don't, but I think I will in time."

* * *

McCoy looked up from his desk in sickbay at Spock crossing the room to the medical computer bank.

Spock ran the strand of Tien's hair against the DNA samples on file in his Federation identification file. Just to be thorough he ran it against the DNA for Maja Talljet as well. Perfect matches; both of them. He printed the results and turned to leave, changed his mind and came to sit next to the doctor's desk.

McCoy waited.

"I fathered Tien," Spock said at last.

'I was wondering,' the doctor thought but said: "Congratulations. He's a fine young man."

Spock remained silent.

"What are you going to do?" McCoy asked after a while.

"Nothing. There are no provisions for bastard children in Vulcan culture."

McCoy's heart sank at these formal words. "T'Pau acknowledged Polmira and even his brothers as members of the House of Surak."

"Polmira is younger," Spock said.

"That's all?"

"Polmira is closer to T'Pau by blood."

"Spock, what have you got against Tien?"

"Nothing, Doctor. I just feel that given his age and background it is not necessary to offer him the protection of the House of Surak."

"Did he ask for it?"

"No."

"Why did he tell you, now, after all this time?"

"He said it was the last thing he and Kalzat talked about," Spock said factually. "He said that Kalzat said he wanted to see my face when Tien told me that he, Tien, was my son."

McCoy was too moved to speak right away. "And what did you say when Tien told you?"

"That I required verification."

"You are so cruel, Spock, and you don't even realize it."

"I do not understand how requiring verification can be cruel, doctor. I am informed that I have fathered a child that I had no previous knowledge of. I consider my reaction normal." Spock stood. "Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to talk to Maja Talljet at the first possible moment."

"Why didn't Maja tell you this?" McCoy asked.

"That is what I intend to ascertain," Spock said tensely.

"I think you should calm down first."

"I am perfectly calm."

* * *

Spock chose not to argue with anyone about where Maja might be at that moment and had himself transported directly into the vicinity of Maja's Federation Identifier Signal.

"I'm so glad I wasn’t taking a shit, Spock." Maja snarled, looking up from his sketch pad.

Spock ignored this in favor of placing the DNA results on Maja's unfinished pastel.

"What is this?" Maja asked.

"Conclusive proof that Tien is my son."

"This is not news for me, Vulcan." Maja looked curiously at the papers. "Oh, yes. The strand of hair," Maja said sadly. "Spock, you have all the compassion of your people, possibly less. Don't you realize what Tien was doing? He was fulfilling his dead lover's last wish and all you could think of to do was call him a liar."

"I believed him, Maja," Spock said levelly. "It is you I wanted to confront with proof so you could not lie to me."

"When," Maja asked coolly, "have I ever lied to you?"

"Why did you not tell me?"

"That's not the same thing as lying."

"I agree. Why did you not tell me?"

"It was none of your business."

"Perhaps, but why did you think not?"

"You had other things on your mind."

"I would have taken time for this. Why?"

"What would you have done, Spock?"

"I cannot speculate on the hypothetical past," Spock said. "I still want to know your reasoning for not telling me and running away."

Maja looked up at him sadly. "I was scared. All I saw for us here was misery. Either alone while you were on a starship or with you, a bitter, angry you, who'd stayed and learned to hate me and the baby." He switched his attention to the mural he'd painted as a child. He'd painted it to please Spock but if it did, Spock never let on that it did. "So I ran. I ran into the unknown because it was better than any other possibility I could foresee or even logically speculate upon. Except death and I thought if that was my fate, then I'd embrace it when the time came." Maja paused, almost overwhelmed by the waves of sadness in this memory. "Hobie came with me," Maja murmured abstractedly. "He took care of me. I think he was afraid I would die."

"You never gave me a chance, Maja," Spock said flatly. "I might have found a solution I could have lived with, I have more compassion than you give me credit for, if I had a home and a family, my ideas could have been altered to my satisfaction. You might have had some small faith in my judgment. But you never gave me a chance to find out what I might have had. You had no interest in what I was thinking or wanted."

'What did I ever see in you?' Maja frowned up at him but said: "D'you realize you've used the word 'I' twelve times and the word 'me' seven times and 'my' four times since you walked in here?"

"I do not consider my use of language to be the issue here."

"That's thirteen and five respectively," Maja said, rolling his eyes. "Don't you even want to know where Tien was conceived?"

"I thought it might have been there," Spock said, gesturing to the purple couch. "On the night I left for Terra."

"Yes," Maja said. "The night Sarek declared you outcast and you were upset enough to run to me for comfort. Stress, Spock, induces a minor form of Pon farr in you Vulcans. It's how you knock us Talljets up when you do. So maybe you knew, somewhere deep deep inside, maybe you knew what you didn't want to know because it would wreck your wonderful Star Fleet career. Y'know, I never liked what T'Pring did but I always understood why she did it. You don't fucking care about anything but you, Spock. So, fuck you." Maja rose and opened the door. "Now get out before I throw you out the window."

Maja's tone was not something to argue with but Spock stood stone still, his eyes looking inward. Maja listened to his own mind and heard the distress in Spock's over whatever was vibrating in the bond between Spock and Kirk. "Spock? What is that?" he asked in spite of himself. It was vaguely familiar, this weakening, withering feeling emanating from Spock.

"Where is Hobie?" Spock rasped from his closed throat.

"Dunno. He's shielding," Maja said, feeling Spock's panic rise. "Maybe his workshop or somewhere."

Spock whipped open his communicator and ordered the Enterprise's transporter to beam him to Captain Kirk's location, now!

Maja stepped into the transporter beam behind Spock, who did not realize he was there until he was face to face with Hobie and Jir Talljet.

* * *

"Thank you for meeting me here, Kirk, I wanted to apologize for coming on so strong to you these past few weeks." Hobie smiled disarmingly. He fanned out his shields to include Kirk so Spock would not pick up his trail too quickly. "I guess you're just not interested."

"I was under the impression you were engrossed in Chekov," Kirk said innocently, strolling the room.

"Oh, Chekov is delightful but hardly an enthralling companion. One longs not to have to explain everything, not to have to share the wonder of his discovery of something I was bored with long ago." Hobie sighed. "I long for a kindred spirit, Kirk, I thought or hoped that was you, but it appears not to be. I can take it. There is something to be said for unrequited love, it ... it builds character." He watched Kirk smile but not relax. "I thought you might like to see my workshop and have some lunch."

Kirk looked dubiously at the nearly empty space before him. The ground floor of the workshop was a large, open space but contained only a chair in all its expanse. "I thought it might be interesting to see your workshop, Hobie," he said, remembering Jessup's command to get all the information possible from this Talljet. "But there doesn't seem to be much to see."

"I do most of my work in virtual design. Here." Hobie handed Kirk a sensor hood, similar to what the blind wear but with a difference. Each sensor was tuned to a computer generated environment image instead of the outer environment. "And these." Hobie handed him a pair of sensor gloves that would interact with the virtual environment. "You'll not only be able to see but feel what I've been up to."

Kirk watched the pirate smile and noted that the smile never reached his eyes. This was an important chance to get some real information so Kirk pushed aside his reservations and slipped on the gloves and hood.

He was immediately standing on the bridge of a starship. Reminding himself that he was not on a starship, Kirk found himself 'listening' to the ship he wasn't on. It was uncanny, not only could he 'feel' the engines around him, it was almost as if he could feel the ship's 'pulse.' He suppressed the urge to reach out to this strange but strangely familiar ship. The virtual stars faded from the viewscreen and were replaced by Hobie's symmetrical and classically beautiful features.

"Remarkable, no?" Hobie smiled. "I designed this program so I'd know what kind of a ship I was building."

(Kirk felt a pleasant chill run up his spine.)

"Ships are funny things, Kirk, almost have souls."

(Circling the well of the bridge area, Kirk felt that the spaces were made for the length of his stride.)

"I found the mathematical model for that, to communicate with their souls, long ago, here, on Vulcan."

(Kirk sat down in the command chair; a perfect fit.)

"It's all in the design."

(Rising, Kirk paced around the slightly raised area of the bridge. He was pleased that it was slightly wider than he was used to. The Enterprise bridge had grown somewhat cramped over the years for him.)

"How the parts communicate with the whole."

(Passing the turbolift, Kirk was curious to see the doors swish open. He entered the lift and directed it to engineering.)

"A purer translation of power to action, source to outcome, cause to effect."

(The hum of this lift was low and soothing. Like a large feline purring.)

"No one understood it here; they admired the model but could not see a practical application."

(Stepping into the engineering deck was like stepping into a labyrinth.)

"I knew I could create engines that were works of art."

(There were no open spaces here, no high ceilings or graceful lines. Kirk wended his way along narrow corridors that led onto corridors that led onto corridors.)

"In the same way a work of art takes on a life of its own by moving or inspiring the viewer."

(Kirk speculated that every available space here went to house engines and that living beings were not physically welcome.)

"I thought in Star Fleet..."

(Turning a corner, Kirk came upon a long row of instruments set into a wall. Above them was what appeared to be a starfield but on closer inspection, points of light turned out to be dilithium crystals, suspended in a nul-gravity field, with light refracting through them.)

"...but that did not happen."

(As Kirk continued to study the shifting patterns of light before him, he began to have the eerie feeling that they, the lights, were studying him, somehow.)

"As I said, I developed the model here on Vulcan but no one could understand it and I couldn't prove it without building a starship."

(Fascinated, Kirk felt their energy reaching out to him.)

"I would also need a significant quantity of dilithium crystals. Much more than the Vulcan Institute could ever afford."

(He felt the energy surrounding him, soothing him.)

"I had good teachers there, but they were Vulcans, of course."

(...a warm glow extended down Kirk's back and flank, slowing the blood pulsing in his veins and coaxing him into a calmer rhythm...their rhythm...)

"The Vulcans are so removed from their emotions, they did realize that dilithium crystals contain different spectrums of light but they didn't know why that was important."

(...began to enjoy the sensation... awash in the multiple sensations... passionate and surrendered...)

"They didn't realize that the other spectrums could converge and intersect with certain higher forms of energy."

(...Kirk jumped slightly... allowed himself to feel firmly held helpless...)

"Telepathic energy."

(...transmutated to pleasure, Kirk found he was enjoying himself very much...)

"The Vulcans are so busy containing and taming their telepathic abilities..."

(...held there, enthralled and enfolded in the rush of sensation... nearly overwhelmed with pleasure...)

"...it never occurred to them that if you put a ship full of telepaths..."

(...dominating and surrendering; pursued and pursuing...)

"...even as minimal and puny as your human telepathic energy..."

(...Kirk stopped shaking...calmed ...overwhelmed by the erotic intimacy...)

"...together with crystals refracting in the xetros range..."

(he savored it for a moment... wanting to prolong the contact...)

"...you have a ship that knows what you're thinking."

(...glowing hazel eyes...)

"Knows what you want."

(...very close... greater and greater urgency... doubling and redoubling the pleasure ...)

"That knows you as you know it."

(...shuddering with pleasure in the sensation... /shudder ...flex.../)

"That might even know you better than you know yourself."

(/...flex.../)

Kirk watched with amazement as the viewscreen began to play the challenge at the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee for him. Spock in Plak Tow, the deadly weapons, the searing heat... But different, the figures were more vivid as if they were glowing and pulsing with energy. He watched amazed and then went very still as he saw a strange convergence occur in the energy between Spock and himself, an overlapping ring of light took shape between them. Hard to see if he looked directly at it but there if he looked at it in his peripheral vision.

And it was all suddenly so clear, all the months of wanting McCoy when he'd never considered it before. Feeling strangely compelled to have sex with Spock even though he wasn't particularly attracted to him. All the times he made love to them, together or singly, that he'd felt there was certainly more to it than lust, more than even love. He wondered how he could have been so stupid, so blind, so manipulated.

Kirk felt warm, gentle fingers stroking his cheeks under the hood. "I can free you," Hobie's silky voice promised.

Kirk tensed under the fingers. They drew back slightly but did not withdraw.

"Don't you want to be free?"

The fingers moved up and hovered just above meld position.

"No more confusion, no more compulsion."

They settled gently on his face but did not initiate the meld.

"You'll make your own decisions again."

Kirk felt a strange peace descending on him, but he still kept his guard up.

"Be your own man again."

Kirk went still (the fingers waited) and then relaxed. Still the fingers waited just above the surface of his mind.

Kirk floated pleasantly for a moment and then, as if greeting a new pleasure, he yearned for the meld, reached out for it.

/...good, good, very good, so very good.../

Hobie began to unravel the bond. He felt Spock at last stirring in it and unwound that connective tendril and then another. He discovered it was not really a bond,

(/t'hy'la/)

more of a strong link that would have become a bond had it been nurtured to fruition. Rare and precious that, but, oh well. And not to be, he thought, as he gently,

(/t'hy'la/)

ever so gently, unwound the strands of Spock's consciousness from Kirk's. All Terrans are fragile so it took a long time, so long in fact, Kirk fell asleep

(/t'hy'la/)

in the process. When he had finished and watched with satisfaction the energy wither out of the connection and die away, Hobie picked up the sleeping human and carried him to his bed. He undressed Kirk and tucked him in and went to wait for Spock, who was on his way.

* * *

Jir arrived first. "Where's KirkaFara?"

"Sleeping it off," Hobie said lazily from his desk on the mezzanine.

"Oh?" Jir tiptoed to the bedroom door. "Maybe I'll just slip in and see if he needs any legal advice."

"No time for comedy, Noli." Hobie gestured to the workshop floor where Spock was materializing. They were surprised to see Maja with him but decided they could work with it.

"Come on up, Spock," Hobie called softly. "We're all waiting for you."

"Where is he?" Spock demanded.

"In my bed," Hobie returned.

Maja frowned and moved to where he could get between Spock and his brothers if necessary.

"Why did you do it?" Spock asked quietly.

"Revenge," Hobie said simply. "Starting with the way you just threw Maja away, for everyone that ever loved you that you simply didn't even notice loving you, let alone appreciate it." He strolled over to a chair and sat. "For T'Pring, bitch though she is, you didn't give a damn that bonded to you, stuck with you, she would be alone for most of her life so you could have it all: The model Vulcan life and your fabulous Star Fleet career. No wonder she tried to kill you. And then, of course and most of all, there is Tien." Hobie leaned back. "Tien never said anything but he wanted you all his life. He always understood why he couldn't have you and made the best of it but it was always there. And if he hadn't loved Kalzat to the bottom of his soul, he wouldn't have told you. But it turned out to be Kalzat's last wish that you know and when Tien, your son, the one you threw away when you chucked Maja, told you, you called him a liar. Demanded proof and departed without a word, Spock, without a fucking word. And have you even gone back to him? Welcomed him? Expressed any kind of curiosity about him, his welfare, his future, anything, VulCheq, anything?" Hobie paused to listen to Kirk stirring in the next room. "So that's why. You've hurt the people I love once too often and I want you to suffer for it, if not from it, and for as long as possible." He turned to look at Kirk standing in the doorway.

They were silent, waiting, looking at Kirk.

"Are you all right, Captain?" Spock asked at last.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Spock," Kirk said crisply and turned to his host. "Thank you for the tour, Hobie, good-bye."

"Take Spock with you, please."

Kirk nodded and Spock fell into step behind his captain.

They met Chekov on his way in.

"Mr. Chekov," Kirk snapped, "you are confined to the ship until further notice." He flipped open his communicator and the three were beamed up.

From the mezzanine, Hobie, Jir and Maja watched them go.

"Hmmmm," Jir sighed. "I wonder if you'll miss Chekov, Hobie?"

"Actually, I will," Hobie said. "I was getting used to sleeping on him."

"What's wrong with you, MajaYaga?" Jir asked brightly.

"He's had so little happiness," Maja whispered, still gazing at the spot where Spock no longer was. "And now it's all gone." He shook his head sadly. "All gone."

"Yes," Hobie agreed softly. "All gone."

* * *

Kirk directed Spock into the conference room closest to the transporter room. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded savagely.

"I did not wish to distress you."

"I have not been in my right mind for more than a year and you didn't want to distress me?" Kirk sat down. "You never gave me a chance, Spock. We might have found a workable solution if I had known. You might have had some small faith in my judgment. But you never gave me a chance to find out what I might have had. You had no interest in what I was thinking or wanted. And McCoy," Kirk put his head in his hands. "Dear god, what was I thinking, dragging McCoy into bed?"

"I did not want to lose you," Spock admitted. "Either of you."

Kirk said nothing, he simply got up and walked out.

Four hours later, Kirk informed admiral Jessup that Hobie Talljet possessed no information or technology of any use to the Federation. The Enterprise was ordered home and the crew to be disbanded. The five year mission was over, there was no reason to delay the reallocation of crew and resources any longer.

The Enterprise left Vulcan's orbit within twelve hours and never returned.

About a year later James T. Kirk realized he'd made the biggest mistake of his life in Hobie Talljet's workshop.

* * *

"Master, I am sorry." Tien knelt down next to Maja's chair later that evening. "I should not have told him without asking your permission first."

Maja reached out and stroked the curls off Tien's shoulder. "It's all right. Worse for him than for anyone else."

"Will he come back?" Tien laid his cheek on Maja's thigh.

"No, I don't think so." Maja stroked his eldest child's hair, noting again that Tien got the best of the hair: Shiny silky jet curls to his waist.

"I will miss the buzz, then." Tien looked up at Sarek and Amanda exchanging greetings with Svurek.

"What buzz?" Maja asked, ignoring the newcomers.

"The buzz I always felt when he was near." Tien rose to greet Sarek and Amanda.

"Why would you feel a buzz when he was near?" Maja asked and turned to Sarek: "Why would he feel a buzz when Spock was near him, Sait?" And added, "Hi, Amanda."

"It is a sympathetic vibration between Vulcan parents and offspring, Maja," Sarek said. "Offworlders generally do not know about it."

"Huh," Maja observed. "Did you miss it all your life, Tien?"

"No," Tien said. "Just when I found out what I was missing. I'll get over it."

'I don't see why you should, it sounds like one of the perks of being a VulQuad,' Maja thought, but said: "Huh."

"We've come to extend our welcome into the House of Surak to Tien and his brothers," Amanda said softly.

"Good heavens! And Farro, too?" Maja blurted.

"And Hraja and Farro, too," she assured him. "If you do not object, Master Ghet."

"It's up to them," Maja said. "Well, little one? What do you think?"

"I think we would be honored."

"Well, then." Maja rose. "Let's go tell the Commune. They will be pleased. After all, they like Amanda very much." He turned and swept his cassock around him and marched them into the Commune, which was very pleased indeed.

* * *

"Come," McCoy called, hoping it was Spock at his door.

It was not. "Did you know about the bond?" Kirk demanded.

"Yes," McCoy sighed. "Wanna drink?"

"Yes," Kirk said flatly, sitting down. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I kept hoping Spock was going to." McCoy poured two large snifters of Saurian brandy and handed one to Kirk. "I kept asking him to. It was up to him."

Kirk thought he could argue with that but at this point, why bother?

They drank in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry, Bones," Kirk said at last. "Some of my behavior toward you was unforgivable."

"Forget it, Jim."

"No, I don't want to."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Well, are you feelin' any sexual urges toward me now?" McCoy asked tartly.

"No," Kirk murmured, considering. "But I feel like I could with a little encouragement."

"Forget it, Jim."

Kirk narrowed his hazel eyes at his former lover and relaxed. "Okay," he said.

The subject did not arise between them for quite a while.

* * *

Late on the night before Hobie was to leave Vulcan, after the noisy farewell dinner, the Talljets sat in the Sas' kitchen. They were drinking Relan tea and minutely examining SaKzostVo.

"SaK," Jir announced.

"ZostVo," Maja completed.

"No, just SaK," Jir insisted. "The other is too much to say on a daily basis."

"Well, you might be right," Maja nodded, looking at SaK waking in his arms and making hungry noises.

"As long as you don't call him late for dinner," Hobie commented, watching Ling put SaK to her breast. He looked up to find Maja's eyes on him. "What 'cha thinking 'bout, Noli?"

"The future."

"Aren't we all?" Jir asked.

"What about it, Maja?"

"I told you."

"Tell us again, please."

"The Commune has decided to split in two," Maja said. "Master Khat, Hraja and those that want to, will stay in the Federation and accept one of the commissions that have been pouring in. I'll take the other half back to Zhaharnisha and finish the Garrison and Cathedral there as I promised the Hierophant."

"He'll be pleased," Ling said, referring to the Hierophant. "He does miss you so."

"And somebody's got to keep an eye on the Klingons," Hobie commented. "And Sarek?"

"Amanda can keep an eye on him for the time being," Maja said flatly. "What else did Malira say this afternoon?"

"She said all goes well on Ovtar," Hobie said. "That planets and whole systems are asking to be taken back under our wing, now that I'm going back, they all want to be in our good graces again."

"After what happened to the Certegians," Jir said quietly, "can you blame them?"

"Nah. But would they be so agreeable if that hadn't happened to the Certegians?" Hobie reminded him.

Jir nodded and looked at Maja, who'd fallen silent.

"Well." Hobie finished his tea and rose. "Time to go."

They embraced. "Godspeed, NoloHobie," Jir, Maja and Ling wished him.

"Godspeed, Nolis and little sister," Hobie said. "Godspeed." He hailed his ship and was beamed aboard.

Jir and Maja sent Ling and the baby home. They lingered tidying up the kitchen, just to be together a little longer and then they went to their respective beds, Maja upstairs to his studio and Jir to Stonet at the theater company's digs in Shirkar.

* * *

Spock ignored the door buzzer in his cell like room at the Star Fleet hostel. In a few hours he would leave for Vulcan and he wished to spend them meditating.

The buzzer sounded again. He wondered if it were Jim, that he'd changed his mind. No, their last conversation had been as formal as all the ones since they'd left Hobie's workshop on Vulcan. It was useless to think anything had changed.

The door swished open and McCoy entered.

Spock sighed in his mind and looked up at the doctor.

"Sorry, Spock, I used the override," McCoy said. "May I sit down?"

"If you wish, Doctor."

"I do, thank you," McCoy sat. "You weren't going to say good-bye, were you?"

"I concluded all the necessary interactions to resign my commission, Doctor, it was not necessary to speak to you again."

"Spock, I love you, dammit, don't leave me." McCoy hadn't known he was going to say that until he heard it come out of his mouth. Having done so, he decided to go with it. "Please, stay with me. We'll make something work, here or ... or Vulcan or somewhere."

"No. I intend to remove myself from the chaos of emotion, Doctor. I have made my decision."

"Because you got hurt?" McCoy blurted. "People get hurt everyday, Spock, we're made to recover and go on."

"I was misguided to think I could find solace in others, Doctor. It was illogical and I have recovered and intend to go on. To Vulcan."

"I could join you," McCoy ventured.

"No, you could not. I will enter Gol. You cannot follow."

McCoy looked into the Vulcan's empty black eyes and found no arguments to move him with. He sat across from his former lover for a while longer before wishing him well, live long and prosper and leaving.

McCoy never discussed his sorrow over losing Spock with anyone. With whom could he discuss it anyway? Eventually he tumbled back into bed with Kirk now and then and that made him feel a little better.

'In the long run,' he told himself, 'it's better this way. We really were unsuited to each other. In the long run it would have ended in tears.'

He did not consider that in the long run, we are all dead. It's only the now and near future that we can concern ourselves with. But that was too painful, so McCoy stayed in the long run. In time he only thought about Spock once a day or so, then once a week or so, then a few times a month, until he had to remind himself that the one being he loved with his whole heart had simply walked away from him and not looked back. And then he was okay and life went on.

* * *

"What play?" Maja asked.

"_As you Like it_!" Jir enthused. "I'm playing Rosalind. My hair is perfect for it!"

"What's Stonet playing?" Ling asked.

"Nothing. He's managing the company. He's very good at it. Very organized, good with numbers, logistics, et cetera you know."

"How long do you think he'll enjoy that?" Maja wanted to know.

"Until it's time for me to come back and take the Vulcan Bar again," Jir said. "Then I'll enjoy my law practice here for five years and after that we'll go back to the company for five years."

"Five years on Vulcan; five years off it," Ling mused. "Not a bad solution."

"We thought so, little sister," Jir said. "What are your plans?"

"Qhoshi and the house have already returned to Dhrgestera," Ling said. "Laninin, Ro and Ko are staying here to go to school. They're happy here and they'll get good educations. Stez and I are going to let SaK get a little bigger and then we'll move back to Dhrgestera in a few months."

"And you, Maja?" Jir asked.

"I told you."

"Tell me again."

"Master Whilla, Pzchaz and Dhec and their studios have already left for Zhaharnisha," Maja said. "I'll join them in a while. They have some rebuilding to do so no need for me to rush out there."

"Do Tien and Hraja miss Farro very much?" Ling asked.

"Yes, very much," Maja told him.

"Couldn't he have stayed?" Jir asked.

"Farro? He wants to be a Master bronze sculptor. He can't attain that without Master Dhec and the Commune so he went with him." Maja said. "He'll come visit Tien and Hraja or they'll go visit him, Tien at least, depending on where he is in the Empire. Are you taking your brats with you, Jir?" Maja asked his Noli. "Or are you leaving them to go to school with Hobie's children?"

"I'm taking them with me," Jir said. "They're just too cute to leave behind. And they really like Stonet."

"He's made himself very agreeable to them, I will say," Ling observed.

"Like Sarek to Polmira," Jir said and regretted it.

"Aye," Maja said. Nobody mentioned Spock. "It's good for them to be with you, Jir, even if you have spoiled them a little."

"And I intend to spoil them some more!" Jir enthused.

"Then, Godspeed."

"Godspeed."

* * *

Spock returned to Vulcan and did not visit his parents. He made his farewell to them in a terse comm message. He walked straight out of the terminal to find the landcar he had rented to take him to Gol. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that he wasn't surprised to find Maja Talljet sitting on the hood of it. It seemed normal, perhaps even appropriate for him to be there. Also, it was simply a fact and merely one to be curious about.

"Maja," Spock inclined his head slightly. "What are you doing on my car?"

"I thought I'd keep you company on the drive to Gol," Maja said.

"How did you know it would be this car?"

"Second sight, Spock," Maja lied, he had dug Spock's space and terrain arrangements out of Ling's computer base. "Hemzjit." He rolled off the hood and opened the passenger door.

"I would prefer to be alone, Maja."

"Humor me, Vulcan. Get in."

They rode in silence out of the city and into the desert.

"So," Maja said at length. "Your goal is Gol, eh?"

Spock did not answer. They drove on in silence a while longer.

"What did Amanda say?" Maja asked.

"About what, Maja?"

"About Gol." Maja rolled his eyes.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Spock debated elaborating on his response and decided not to. "Nothing."

"Did you tell her when she was awake?"

"I sent her a comm message," Spock admitted.

Maja let his head roll on the seat. He was evolved enough to realize how Amanda must feel and he hated it. He hadn't much solidarity with Amanda but if one of his own brats ever... "You're really a piece of work, Spock," Maja snapped. "Amanda goes to all the trouble of birthing and raising you and you don't even tell her you're committing suicide in person."

"I am not committing suicide."

"Will any of us ever see you again?"

"No."

"Same thing," Maja assured him. "Just less messy."

Spock did not bother to answer this and they rode on in silence.

The bump on the horizon that was Gol grew closer.

"Look, Spock," Maja plunged in. "Here's the deal. If you give up this Gol nonsense I'll chuck the Commune and we'll go have some fun. Okay?"

Spock was silent and remained focused on the road before him.

"Look, Spock," Maja continued. "I wish I had some unassailable logical arguments for you but I don't. I do have some second sight and I foresee that this Gol thing is not going to work out for you. How not, I dunno, but not. Really, not." He inhaled cheerfully. "So why don't you just come with me and we'll have some fun?"

Spock was silent and remained focused on the road before him.

"We won't see anybody from the old life," Maja began again, feeling like a traitor to everyone, especially Tien, 'hochofedra.' "We can even take on assumed names."

Spock was silent and remained focused on the road before him. The bump of Gol on the horizon loomed closer.

Maja saw it too. "Spock! Okay, I was WRONG, I should have told you about Tien, I was an asshole! And stupid because I've just figured out I can't live without you. Can't you find it somewhere in your fucking VulCheq soul to give me another chance? You never know, I might blow it again and you can still shut yourself up in Gol!"

It was the custom for postulants to walk the last three kilometers to the gates of Gol. Therefore, the road to Gol ended three kilometers from the cliffs. Spock brought the car to a halt and looked at Maja.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why should I go with you, Maja?"

"Because I love you and I need you and want to make you happy." Maja sighed. "That's all I've got for you, Spock, it's all I've ever had."

Spock got out of the car. "It is insufficient." He walked away.

Maja got out of the car and ran after him. "Spock! Don't leave me! Where will I go? What will I do?" He clutched at Spock's sleeve.

Spock turned. "Frankly, Maja, it would be illogical for me to have any interest in that whatsoever," he said and continued on his way.

Maja stood stunned for a moment and then stomped back to the car and sat on the hood. He watched Spock continue on his way to Gol.

'He'll turn around and come back in ten more steps,' he thought smugly. A little later: 'He'll turn around and come back in just ten more steps.' And then later still: 'He'll turn around and look back in ten steps." And then: 'He'll turn and at least look back when he gets to the gate.' Spock disappeared into Gol, without looking back. Without even looking sideways. 'I'll just sit here until he comes out,' Maja decided.

Maja Talljet, also known as Master Ghet of the Most Holy Church of the Klingon Empire and sometimes called St. Gozine, sat on the hood of a rented Vulcan landcar through the night and until sunset of the next day when hunger and thirst and something as simple as good sense caused him to just fucking get in the car, drive it back to Shirkar and go on with his life in spite of SpockDeVulCheq and his fucking Gol.

* * *

"He said 'Frankly, Maja, it would be illogical for me to have any interest in that whatsoever'?" Sarek asked over breakfast in his apartment on the Strand.

"Yes," Maja sighed. "And that was that. Hochofedra," he added, shrugging.

"And what now, Maja?"

"I will return to the Commune."

"I thought you were staying with me."

"I was but, but something larger has reached my consciousness. It was in a dream I had about the Empire and the Federation," Maja said majestically. "In this dream T'Pau and the Hierophant were dancing again. Dancing and dancing and there was nothing but peace and harmony and good food and lots of it for everyone, everywhere, amen, hallelujah." Maja looked into Sarek's deadpan face and knew that deep deep deep inside the Vulcan was laughing hysterically at him. "What?"

"Are you serious?" Sarek asked.

"No, of course not," Maja admitted. "All right, here's half of the unvarnished truth. I'm going back to the Empire, the Hierophant and the Commune, in that order, because I'm power crazed and I love it, and I'd be mad to leave it at this point. Even for you, Sait."

"But not for Spock?"

"Oh, I woulda worked that out. He would have eventually learned to enjoy Commune life or we might have lived somewhere close enough to the Empire to keep my hand in." Maja waved away whatever unknown, now unrealizable, difficulties might have arisen.

"And you're not making me the same offer," Sarek stated.

"That's the second half of the unvarnished truth," Maja further admitted. "You see, I owe Amanda one. She did right by Hraja on Romulus and it would be wrong of me to forget that."

Sarek remained silent but kept his attention fixed on Maja.

"And," Maja continued, "she's really happy with you and god knows how few have gotten any joy out of this story so I'd really be a beast not to let her keep it."

Sarek remained silent but kept his attention fixed on Maja.

"And you're happy, too, in your own funny little Vulcan way," Maja said.

"Amanda is less exhausting than you," Sarek admitted. "I am enjoying her again."

"Aaaand," Maja said meaningfully. "How much longer is she really going to last?"

"Maja. Really."

"No. Really?"

"Twenty, thirty more years," Sarek said.

"So I'll see you in twenty, thirty more years," Maja smiled. "And we'll have a hundred or so to make up for lost time."

"I hope I'll be up to it, my Maja," Sarek said dryly.

"Exercise, good food and clean living."

"Sage advice, MageCheq."

"See ya, Sait."

<end>

Epilogue

Eventually, it all worked out for the best. Spock came back from Gol, Kirk had seen the light and they were bonded on Vulcan again, this time properly. Spock and McCoy even made peace, albeit rather strangely, through Spock's katra, and then again after Kirk's transition, they turned to each other.

Exactly a year after Amanda died, Maja showed up at Sarek's at dinnertime. The next day, while Maja visited the Sas and T'Paga, the perfect woman, Sarek packed up his life on Vulcan. He'd always wanted to see more of the galaxy and the Commune could always use somebody else good at math. It took some work but Maja and Sarek remade the link between them and Sarek the Vulcan spent the rest of his long life in the joys of Patois and Maja Talljet. Maja's second sight kicked in and he got Sarek back to Vulcan in time to leave his body there. When the healers came for Sarek's katra, Maja made his farewells and was gone. He left a note for Spock that he would see him 'later.'

Leonard McCoy lived a long time for a Terran and when he transitioned he was more than ready to do so. Spock spent some time grieving and trying to distract himself with hobbies like reunifying the Vulcans and the Romulans ('absurd' was all Hobie had to say about it) and the occasional fling with the occasional Vulcan woman. At Sarek's funeral Spock was not surprised that he was not surprised to get a note from Maja saying that if he was looking for him he could be found at the Sas. The note did not say when. Some time went by and Spock found himself on Vulcan for diplomatic business. He did not visit the Sa mansion. More time went by and Spock found himself on Vulcan for diplomatic business again. He decided to drive by the Sa mansion but not go in. More time went by, Spock was yet again on Vulcan for diplomatic business and went to the Sa mansion where he was told that Maja was not on Vulcan. He was even offered a cup of tea, which he declined. He walked out of the mansion to find Maja and his luggage, both of which had just arrived on Vulcan, sitting on the hood of his rented landcar. "Why are you so fucking stubborn, VulCheq?" was all Maja wanted to know. They moved into Spock's family home in Western Shirkar and split their time between the Commune and the Federation. They never married and certainly never bonded but managed to have a good time in spite of, or perhaps because of, this.

Polmira was profoundly shaken by Tien's sorrow over Kalzat's death and removed himself from Prince Strig's company for a time. Strig's Vulcan patience and gentleness won him back eventually and they were bonded when they'd both finished at the Institute. Strig in Federation history and Polmira in theoretical Aeromechanics. The Magidrian blood was too thin so neither he nor any of the JetCheqs ever flipped and had children.

Farro became a Klingon Master and found he didn't have to talk as much because fewer beings contradicted him. He settled down with a female architect and had eight children with her. He eventually became one of the heads of the Gozshedrefreingin Commune.

Hraja spent the rest of life in the Federation, working in stone or wood. He was very much in demand for monuments as he had Master Ghet's eye for majesty in even the puniest subject. He married a geophysicist he met at a limestone quarry.

Tien stayed with Master Khat until a place could be found for him with the new painting master in the Gozshedrefreingin Commune. Tien eventually became a Master Painter and was one of the few beings that Farro could count on to contradict him on a regular basis. After many years of grieving for Kalzat, Tien found himself in love with and loved by a RomCheq terrain designer named JivrinVhir and they managed to be happy and productive for the rest of their long lives.

Master Khat also spent the rest of his life in the Federation and even occasionally coaxed Master Ghet there to work on projects with him.

The Hierophant Kroldt wielded power in the Klingon Empire until the day he died. His last act on his deathbed was to emancipate the members of the Gozshedrefreingin Commune and declare the Commune a parish with all the attendant rights and protections of such. He outlived Amanda by a few years.

Malira governed the Tossarian empire as easily as she breathed. Power was food, drink, love, religion, art, solace and a balm to her soul. She was happy in her element until the day she died peacefully in her sleep.

Ling Talljet and Stez manipulated the Talljet fortunes through rough and smooth. They also had a wonderful time raising their three boys, none of whom showed the slightest interest in finance. They all went into science and graduated from the Vulcan Institute with honors.

Qhoshi ran Talljet Inc. until she retired to a convent on her home planet of Yzreinia where she could meditate on the wonders of the universe in peace.

Ro and Ko took over the operation of Talljet Inc. after Qhoshi retired. Their Vulcan educations served them well in the intergalactic business milieu.

Laninin never left the Sa mansion. He kept SaBrzia company until the old Vulcan died and then simply stayed on. He's still there, silently sightlessly remembering the future and dreaming of the past.

Jir Talljet and Stonet made the five years on Vulcan and five years off work until Stonet grew so old that Jir decided they would both be more comfortable on Vulcan full time. Their children grew up and all went off to see the galaxy with their uncle Hobie.

Khatanya remained as blase as a Klingon can be until he died when his ship was ambushed by Rom pirates in the far reaches of Klingon space.

KzostGhet lived a long and happy life with SaVoren until he died peacefully in that Vulcan's arms.

SaVoren, after seeing Kzost's remains decently disposed of, shut himself up in a room and almost died of dehydration before Maja showed up to take him back to Vulcan with him. Voren spent the rest of his life in the Sa mansion enjoying the intricacies of the ancient Borillian texts that were so enthralling to a generation of Sas. His contribution to their understanding was vast.

Hobie Talljet returned to the Tossarian Autonomous Zone and convinced, one way or another, all the recalcitrant planets to come back to the fold. They did and the Tossarians enjoyed a long and profitable era. Hobie went back to building starships and exploring spaces he'd never been in. Eventually he found he couldn't take his ideas on propulsion any further and turned it all over to his JirCheq nephews, who built the Talljet Ltd. shipyard into an empire in its own right. One day, Hobie sent a note to all his brothers announcing that he was going to Magidrian and didn't expect to return so if they wanted to see him one last time they better look sharp and come to Povarb before the end of the year. They did, the entire family did, even Spock, and wished him godspeed. He was never seen or heard from again.

Several years later, long after Stonet's death, Jir made the same announcement from Vulcan. He was also never seen or heard from again.

Spock had as much, if not more, fun than Maja had promised him on the way to Gol. He spent quite a bit of time getting to know Tien and Farro in the Commune and Hraja in the Federation. He was welcomed by everyone and he felt at home everywhere. He grew old in the warm glow of Maja's love and felt something very close to regret when it was time to leave him. "Hochofedra," Maja shrugged. "Did you really want to stay in this bag of blood and bone forever?" He withdrew to allow the healers to complete Spock's Vulcan life in the Vulcan fashion.

Maja spent many more years making art and wandering around, visiting various members of his family and friends. At last he went to visit Ling and sent out an announcement that it they wanted to see him, etc. And a few days after the huge convergence of family and Majaphiles on Dhrgestera, he went off in a Talljet Inc. ship for Magidrian. The captain got him as close a possible and sent him off in a small ship for the rest of the journey. It was impossible to get close to Magidrian as it was now surrounded by its own Sargasso space. Maja, however, was unaffected by it. He did what he did all his life and let his instinct guide him to his landing. He left his ship and found a nice warm rock to sit on until whatever happened happened. He dozed off and woke to find a Mage standing over him.

/welcome/

"So, is this where it ends?" Maja sat up.

/no, this is merely where it goes on from/

Maja thought about that for a moment: "Is zat so?"

The Mage nodded.

"Then, hochofedra." Maja shrugged and got to his feet to follow his guide.

<end of epilogue><end of story>

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