Title: C'Thia Author: Istannor Series: TOS Part: 1/1 Rating: [PG13] Codes: Summary: Part Six in the Gol series Disclaimer: These are the characters of Paramount and Viacom, they own them, I only check 'em out from the Library. I promise to bring 'em back. Thank-you to the Beta Dominitrix Editor, Mary Ellen, the Doc of Science. If there are no errors, thank her, not me. Feedback to Istannor@Aol.com C'THIA Sarek, Amanda, and T'Pau ate in silence, as was the custom. Saylak came and went silently: the ghost who served the living. The faint sound of a water chime served as a backdrop to the clinking of utensils on rose-colored crystal plates and glasses. It was an almost unforgivable show of opulence, but the service was 751 years old. It was the tradition of the house to feed the head of the clan from these plates. Neither choice nor whim had been possible for 499 years longer than T'Pau had been alive. Sarek had chosen the more intimate family dining chamber for the evening's repast. The high stone walls were covered in muted tapestries. Woven in shades of brown, purple, gold and green, the pictures told of the years after Surak's reforms. They were peaceful scenes of men and women eating, sowing the fields, and harvesting Vulcan's meager crops. It was a room that celebrated peace, and the prosperity it brought. Sarek allowed his eyes to roam over the pictured walls, as he had often done over the last 125 years -- whenever he required a reminder of who he was and how far Vulcan had come from the savagery of the past. He felt the need for that reminder while he battled the unsettling waves of emotion emanating from the human sleeping upstairs. He felt the need for that reminder as he contemplated the chair where Spock would have traditionally been seated. It was empty, as it had usually been for the last 20.23 years. He still dared not think of the one who had no name. When they finished eating, they dipped their hands in cool bowls of water and touched them lightly to their faces. The ritual cleansing was completed and speech was allowed. Sarek broke the silence. "Mother, Amanda, if it is agreeable to you both, we will retire to the guest reception room. It will be far more comfortable for us to have our conversation there." Sarek led the way towards the front of the compound. The cool stone walls muffled their steps and the echo settled over Sarek's awareness. Time weighed heavily on his mind. The weight of the surrounding fortress, history past, and history in the making reached out to him and made his heart thud rapidly in his side. He forced it to slow and willed himself to be calm. He felt a gentle mind's kiss from his wife, a touch of reassurance, and the voice of her love and faith in him. Once they were all seated, Amanda looked at her mother-in-law expectantly. "I think we deserve some answers, Mother." Direct as always; Amanda had never been cowed by T'Pau. "I shall tell you exactly what I told my son, nothing more. There's far more at stake here than a friendship between two confused men. This rock has been rolling down from the precipice for more years than I care to ponder. Your role, as well as my own, is not to impede its progress." Sarek leaned forward. "How do you expect us to do the appropriate things at the appropriate times if we do not know what our goal is or what we risk if we fail?" T'Pau waved her hand in dismissal. "Tell me: which of your tasks have ever met those criteria? Do you ever truly know all of the risks, or the full meaning of the goal you aim to achieve? Why should this event be any different? What you ask is unreasonable--and the knowledge you desire is fraught with danger. I will not give it to you and you will not discover it on your own." She changed to High Vulcan to emphasize her point, speaking a language that allowed no equivocation. "When it is time for thee to know, thee shall know." T'Pau's voice drawled out the last words. "No other choice is possible for thee or thy Sons." Sarek refused to show his frustration or Amanda's similar feelings, resonating through the bond. They both knew they could get no further with T'Pau. Amanda sent back a pledge to wait . . . at least a little longer. Sarek continued aloud without an appreciable pause. "Mother, my rationality is obviously suspect." "That is probable; yet what prompts you to acknowledge this condition, Son?" Sarek shrugged. "I thought, briefly, that you might be open with me." T'Pau actually allowed a small hint of hurt to pass over her face. "I do what I think is best." "Rarely, even in my own house, have you allowed me the privilege of making a similar decision." Amanda held her breath and sent calming waves to Sarek. This fight was old and would not be settled this night, nor quite possibly on any night in the future. Amanda wondered briefly if she would have chosen to give birth to Spock had she known then how poorly Sarek and his mother got along. Sometimes they barely tolerated each other, but tradition demanded Sarek's submission to the head of the clan: T'Pau. Tradition demanded, and he surrendered -- with all the grace of a wounded Le Matya. They were known to feign death, draw their enemy closer, and rip through the throats of any foolish enough to approach. Once more she regretted never meeting Sarek's father. By all accounts S'Thonn had been brilliant, quiet, and ruled by his love for T'Pau. Sarek's sister T'Lin had once confided in Amanda how much Sarek had adored his father. S'Thonn had been a gentle man and a kind man . . . and most important, he had been the diplomat who soothed the ruffled feathers of a young and rebellious Sarek. Sarek still had difficulty speaking of his father, even with his wife. Amanda had long ago concluded that it was S'Thonn's death on clan business that turned son against mother. Sarek lost his adored father when he was just 18; T'Pau had almost died from the severed Bond. It was T'Par who had sat beside her and drew her back to the world of the living; fighting for her sister's life while the children mourned their Father and waited fearfully for the death of their Mother. Sarek blamed both T'Pau and T'Par. Now, 107 years later, Sarek resisted T'Pau's schemes reflexively. Amanda turned her attention back to her husband and mother-in-law. They sat in silence, staring at each other. She sighed and sent a plea to get on with the business at hand. She could feel Sarek's chagrin at being so infallibly angered by his mother, once more. "There is no further purpose in our waiting here, then," Sarek stated, the picture of Vulcan calm once again. "It is time for us to go and assist our new son. I am prepared if you are, Mother." As they rose, Saylak knocked on the door. "Sarek, there is a guest approaching the compound." "Curious; I was not expecting anyone. Were you, Amanda?" "No." "Mother?" "No one." "Saylak, activate the defense perimeter and inform the staff their services may be required." Sarek opened the vid screen concealed in the wall, and the outside of the inner compound leapt into view. An overland vehicle approached the front gate at well below attack speed and settled to the ground. It was an Albian, a vehicle that spoke of quiet wealth. Fully armored, it was able to achieve escape velocity at need. Some were also armed, but never on Vulcan . . . legally. His finger hovered over the alarm as he waited. The door opened and a tall human female exited the craft. Sarek's eyebrow rose in surprise. Amanda caught his look immediately. She leaned over to scrutinize the figure. "Sarek Dear, take the cams in closer, I can't make out the face." He did so. "Will wonders never cease. Who else is going to drop onto our doorstep? Correct me if I'm wrong, but that looks like Ambassador Jean Little." "You are indeed correct, and I have no idea why she is here. Shall we all go and greet her?" "Yes, I can't wait to find out what brings her here on this particular day." Amanda turned to T'Pau. "Would you like to join us, Mother?" T'Pau stared at the approaching figure with her most enigmatic expression. "I believe I should." She led the way to the front door. Saylak had opened the door before the party reached the foyer and he silently watched the human approach. He greeted her as she entered the vestibule, unobtrusively activated the weapons scanner at the front door, and waited for it to signify safety. "I have no need of weapons, but you are free to examine me," she said, amused. He continued. When the light glowed red, he motioned her forward and escorted her into the vestibule where Sarek, Amanda, and T'Pau waited. Sarek stepped forward and bowed his head briefly. "Ambassador Little, you honor our home with your presence. I ask your indulgence for our lack of hospitality. We have not prepared an adequate reception for you." Saylak signaled a question to Sarek with his hands. Sarek signaled back, The Human shook her head slightly and looked calmly around her. Sarek appraised her silently. She was a tall, slim, square-shouldered, human Female with skin of a dark chocolate shade, like Vulcan's deep desert tribes. Silvered curls circled her head in a soft halo of wiry hair. Gray eyes scanned him, his wife, mother, and then his house. Her eyes reflected the afternoon light that shone through the portcullis and seemed to turn shades of gray and hazel, very strange. Sarek felt energy and a powerful awareness battered against his shields. Full lips smiled slightly at him. For just a second Sarek felt like a guilty child, caught green-handed by his mother in a misdeed. "Ambassador Sarek, your dwelling is quite impressive. This home is a nexus of history. I know it has seen many momentous events." "It has been in our family for many years," Sarek responded. He rapidly searched his memory for all his previous encounters with Jean Little. At no point in his recall, had she ever demonstrated such a . . . presence. "You were born here, Sarek, Lady T'Pau," Little continued, "and Spock, also. I have always wondered what it felt like to live here. Call me a romantic, but I believe that homes have souls. This home feels like it is . . . waiting. Do you have any idea what it could be waiting for, Ambassador?" Sarek and Amanda looked at each other in utter confusion. This was definitely not the conversation they expected from their visitor. "I have never attributed a soul to my home, so I cannot answer you. How may we assist you, Ambassador Little?" Little walked over to the wall and stared at the tapestry hanging there. It showed Surak bringing his teaching to the tribes of the desert. The tapestry was 809 years old. Against the wall was a clear case. It held a single sword with a tassel. The caption read, Sword of Soren, circa 907 TS. "Antiques, traditions, family heirlooms worth a fortune off-world displayed in the hallway." She seemed to speak to the wall, yet her voice was as clear to them as if she stood beside each one of them. "Modern defense devices hidden in walls centuries old. Remote-activated surveillance cams. I see servants who speak with their hands and watch with all of their senses. You are well protected, Ambassador. Why is that? Whom do you fear?" Sarek tensed. Before this visit, he had considered Jean Little an excellent representative of the Federation. Now, he was no longer certain what she was. The few times they had worked together, Ambassador Little had always seemed to fade into the background. She allowed contending parties to air their concerns. Occasionally she would interrupt and lead them back to the correct path, but she had always been a subtle manipulator of events. Sarek had appreciated her skill . . . her artistry. Now, he recognized something completely different. She radiated ---power. It cascaded off her like water flowing down the ravine after a desert rain. She stood in his home, surrounded by firepower enough to stop thirty attackers, and she gave him a critique of his décor. Sarek considered signaling for help. "I do not fear anyone, but Vulcan's Ambassador must be cautious. Not everyone is content with my interventions. I do not wish to seem rude, but . . . I was not expecting you, Ambassador Little." "I know you didn't expect me, Ambassador Sarek. Few do." She turned and smiled gently at T'Pau and Amanda. "Lady Amanda, Lady T'Pau, I greet you and thank you for your hospitality." Her voice deepened and rose slightly. She turned her full attention on T'Pau. "T'Pau, it is time for revelation. Have you read your book today?" T'Pau raised her hand and slowly pointed one finger at Jean Little. "Thee are Chosen!" Ambassador Little continued to stare at T'Pau and Sarek was shocked as he saw his Mother almost step back. The faint smile never left the Ambassador's face. "Peace, T'Pau, we are not displeased with thee." Sarek watched his Mother fight to keep her composure. "What do thee desire from us?" T'Pau demanded. Sarek and Amanda looked at both of the women with frank curiosity written over their faces. They both felt lost. "I have a better question, T'Pau." Little now spoke in Old High Vulcan, the language of ritual and law. "Do thee realize what thee requires from me?" The Ambassador pointed to the upstairs bedroom with unerring accuracy. "James Kirk is sleeping in this house and you are planning to form a familial link with him to protect his sanity. We in his family of birth do not object, but it is unlikely you will succeed without me. As he is my cousin and I love him, I would rather he survive this experience. I also would prefer that *you* survive this experience. If you attempt it without my assistance, you will fail and I might be forced to kill Jim; quite possibly you three, as well. I would not like that. So," she turned and smiled at Amanda and Sarek, "shall we go upstairs and get started? -- The sooner, the better." Amanda challenged her. "I have examined James Kirk's file very closely. There is no mention of you being his cousin, Ambassador." "I'm sure you're right, Amanda. May I call you Amanda?" Amanda found herself nodding, as it this was the most natural of conversations. "I am nowhere in his records. But, neither are most of his real family. It would not be prudent for us to be so easily identified. " Sarek and Amanda looked at her silently while they conferred through their Bond. They made no move towards the stairs and their new son. Sarek announced, "We see no reason to trust you, Ambassador. You were not invited, and you were not anticipated. I do not think you should participate." "Your desire to protect Jim is admirable. What can I do to convince you that I am who I say I am? Ah, I know." She turned her smile on Amanda. "Amanda, " Her smile softened. "'Choisir le vrai, choisis la vie.' I believe my cousin, Winona, told you that yesterday. I will venture you used this phrase, with the desired result: Jim did not harm you. Am I correct?" Sarek closed his eyes to prevent any emotional outburst. "Is anyone going to tell us what is going on here? This continued mystery is untenable." Ambassador Little walked towards Sarek and touched him lightly on the shoulder. He felt a surge of affection through her touch, a hint of amusement, and a jolt of concern. "I wish to thank you for your willingness to reach out to my cousin. James is extremely important to many people. It is a cliché, but true nonetheless, that too much knowledge can be a dangerous thing. Some of the things you wish to know are of that type. It may be that when you meld with my cousin the knowledge you desire will be revealed to you. I hope it will be so. In the meantime, all I ask is for you to do what you would have done on your own. The only difference is that my presence will increase your chances of success. You will see why shortly. Can you wait?" Sarek turned to Amanda and they communed again. He then turned back to Little and nodded reluctantly. When the four of them reached James Kirk's room, S'Alal-doe was kneeling in meditation at his bedside. She was wrapped in the blue green robes of a Healer Adept, hard-earned in her 178 years of labor. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into one long braid that hung down her back to her waist. Her skin was a olive tone and it glistened with a faint layer of moisture from the increased humidity she had demanded for the Human's health. The room was uncomfortably cool and wet for her, but she endured what she must to achieve her goal: healing. She looked up slowly at Sarek as he entered and the obvious signs of fatigue in her face and posture struck him. "You have come to forge the link;" she said. It was not a question. T'Pau walked forward to look down on the sleeping human while the healer continued. "His restlessness increases. He calls out for an end to his pain, for Spock, and for persons named Edith, Bones, and Sam. His psychic distress is rising, beginning to overpower his sanity. I have had to calm him repeatedly to keep him from leaving this room. I was able to induce him to sleep 11 minims ago. It was . . . difficult." "Your efforts on my son's behalf are a tribute to your skills, S'Alal-doe," Amanda stated. The healer looked at Jean Little and hesitated. Sarek gave her permission to continue. "Amanda, your new Son forced me to use Sakoucho on him to induce sleep." T'Pau waved her hand in dismissal. "Surely you could have chosen something else. He does not Burn and this was not a true Bond. Sakoucho should not have been required to subdue him. He is Human." S'Alal-doe stared silently at T'Pau before she consented to respond to the slight T'Pau had made against her skills. "He does not Burn, his penis does not engorge, his soul does not flare the emerald of the Flame, they did not have a true Bond. Yet, his mind seeks for Spock's like a wounded Ichiya seeks its mate. He pursues success or destruction. His mind knows no middle ground. Sakoucho was required. I know my craft, Lady." T'Pau bowed her head slightly. "I err." "He fought against all the Human sedatives I possess. I then attempted to force a healing trance and he rejected my mind. His flame is red, his pain is red. His mind pushes away all that would calm him. You do not have a great deal of time before his pain causes his spirit to detach from his flesh. He does not Burn, but he dies all the same." "Leave us, Healer. This is of the Clan." "As you wish. Push this button, speak my name, and I will return." S'Alal-Doe handed Sarek a healer's signaler to place upon his clothes and turned to leave without a backward glance. "He does not look like someone who could destroy our civilization." T'Pau reached for him and lightly touched his forehead. "He resembles a sleeping child." "A child . . . all of us have the child within us still, but his child is not quite what you would expect." Ambassador Little came to stand beside her. "The destruction of Vulcan or of Earth would not be his intention, but the result would be the same, none the less. " Sarek and Amanda noted the exchange from where they stood and Sarek made his decision. Enough was enough. "Mother, I must insist that you explain what is going on. I will not have my ignorance risk the safety of Vulcan." Sarek moved to the bedside and stared at Jean Little. "You have intimated that James Kirk has abilities that we do not understand and have not anticipated. I do not think it is wise for me to forge a familial link with this man without knowing more about him." "You knew nothing more about him when you planned on doing it in the beginning. Why should you know more now? Would learning more about him change your intentions?" "I have given him my word," Sarek admitted. "However . . . " "Then knowledge or its lack is not a deciding factor. I can discern no reason to give you more knowledge at this point." "But my ignorance may translate into a reluctance to delve deep enough to forge the link." "I do not believe that will occur," T'Pau responded. Sarek sighed. "Mother, there is nonetheless a chance, however small, that my lack of knowledge may jeopardize our task. I do not want to belittle your decision-making capabilities; correct me if I am mistaken. If two pursue a mutual goal, all parties concerned should share information and resources to attain said goal. Is this not logical? Surak himself said: "Shared resources and shared goals multiply resolve and optimize efforts." "Only you would choose such a mundane quote from our greatest philosopher, " T'Pau responded. "Very well. Allow me to use another quote...Mother." He paused and Amanda noted the effort it took him to maintain control. "Surak said,'The gift of knowledge is the greatest gift, for through knowledge all gain strength and find unity of purpose. With strength and unity, life flourishes. Therefore, those who share freely of their knowledge shall henceforth be praised for giving the gift of life. This I declare to be a central truth by which we must abide, if we are to survive our own savagery.'" "He quotes Surak admirably, T'Pau." Ambassador Little laughed. "I believe the term is: checkmate. I sense this mother-son debate could last for another century, and that is time we do not have. Perhaps it would be best if I answered your questions. It was, after all, first a human story, at least where James Kirk is concerned. I sense the link can wait for a few moments longer." She turned her full attention on Sarek. Inexplicably, Sarek felt once again like a child, this time one who had just been rewarded for an especially precocious deed. "I agree, Sarek, we would be unnecessarily hampering you if we did not share some more information. Perhaps you can show us to a quiet room close by. We do not have much time. He grows more restless and that is a danger to us all."