Chapter 16

Vahklas

By Blacknblue (aka Bluenblack)

Disclaimer:I don't own Star Trek. I wrote this for fun. Anyone is free to download and/or redistribute this story as long as you keep it complete and intact, and as long as you don't make any money from it.

Vulcan terms used in this story were taken from the online Vulcan Language Dictionary, the Vulcan Language Institute, or I made them up myself.

As always, this is not edited. Take it as you see it, typos and all.

A/N (Standard note): This story makes several references to events that took place during earlier stories in my series. It also incorporates aspects of the Vulcan social and economic structure, as described in my prior stories. If you have not read my earlier work you might have issues following along. Enter at your own risk.

Anyone is welcome to use anything I invent in these fan fics as long as they don't make any money off it. I also appreciate it when they take the time to give me a brief nod. Otherwise help yourself.

In order, the stories in this series are:

1) For Want of a Nail

2) In The Cold of The Night

3) Father To The Man

4) Purgatory

5) Hess + Kov

6) and this critter, Vahklas

#

(Last chapter of what is almost certainly the last Enterprise fanfic I will ever write. Took longer to finish this that I had intended. I am trying urgently to finish the third volume of my high fantasy trilogy, which is 90+% done, and I worked on this one when I burned out on the other story.

I will pick up this chapter slightly before the last chapter ended, in order to avoid confusing people.)

#

"Be welcome, captain." Kilruym offered his hand in the Human fashion. "I offer the best wishes of the Andorian people for your wife's swift recovery, and the strong health of your children."

"Thanks," Trip told him, taking the hand. "And thank you for seeing me, ambassador."

Kilruym smiled. "Captain Tucker. It is an honor and a privilege to welcome a Hero of the Andorian people to this embassy. You are more than welcome to come here at any time. To visit, to make use of our facilities, or to reside here if you wish." He gestured toward the most comfortable chair in his office. "Please, sit. I understand you enjoy coffee? Unless you would prefer ale?"

"Coffee's fine, thanks." Trip sank into the chair and looked around. "I should have come here before this. Things have been hectic with the project, but that's no excuse. This is a nice place to work. Simple layout, with everything handy. I like that."

Kilruym looked pleased. "I suppose it is a remnant of my time with the Guard," he remarked, setting a cup of steaming coffee next to Trip. The ambassador settled himself into the chair directly across from his guest and took a sip of ale. "I am not surprised a veteran like yourself would appreciate the value of efficiency."

Trip's lips twitched and he nodded. "There's no room for frills on a ship, is there? And no time for wasted motion. Seems like there was always some kind of emergency going on. Either the ship needed fixing, or somebody was shooting at us and the captain was screaming for more power than the engines were designed to put out. After which, the ship needed fixing again. Didn't have time to waste looking for things."

He picked up the coffee and took a sip. Kona. Tasted like the real thing, too.

Kilruym chuckled. "Some things are universal," he noted. "There is nothing like operating under emergency to teach a person the value of order and procedure."

"Yeah." Trip fell silent and looked down. Kilruym watched him carefully for a time. Finally he ventured a careful remark.

"Assistant Attache Larka told me that you wished to discuss something, Captain Tucker. Let me assure you that this room is completely sealed and secure. Nothing said here will reach ears that you do not authorize. I give you my oath on that." Kilruym waited.

Trip leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It was dark grey and mottled, like the cloud cover over a snowy wasteland. As he watched, the clouds drifted and shifted. He hadn't noticed before. A hologram projection, but high enough to be out of the main line of sight unless you looked up. Not a bad idea, really. Replicate the natural sky indoors. Andorians were like that. Subtle in their use of technology. Careful people. Not much got past them either. Look at P'Jem. And that planet where Shran had jumped in to help rescue T'Pol and the captain. He lowered his eyes to look at Kilruym. He probably already knew most of it anyway. Shit, their High Command most likely knew.

"While we're on the subject of Larka," Trip said. "I want to commend her. My second, Commander Hess, tells me that Larka was a tremendous help to her and to my daughter while T'Pol and I were down. According to Anna, Larka went above and beyond the call of duty on several occasions to make sure that T'Lissa had everything she could possibly need. You've got a fine young woman there."

Kilruym smiled and inclined his head while his antennae curled in acknowledgment. "I am pleased to hear that Assistant Attache Larka served with distinction. I will make a note in her record that she earned your particular approval."

There was a brief period of silence. "You know all about what happened at my house," Trip said bluntly. "The details of the attack."

"Yes." No part of the Andorian moved. Not even his antennae.

"I know a little bit about Andorian telepathy," Trip said. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "At least, I know that some of your people are powerful telepaths. Humans aren't very impressive that way. We just barely have enough ability to qualify as telepathic at all. And we don't have any shields. None. So when Tolaris mind-raped my wife, it flashed across our bond and hit me full force."

Kilruym's hands tightened into fists on the arms of his chair. "Captain. If there is anything we can do, or offer, to mitigate this..."

"Thanks." Trip smiled wanly. "But T'Pol's clan has some good mind healers with a fair background in telepathic damage. A lot of them were operating in secret when V'Las was in power. But they kept the old knowledge alive. We're getting help. But I appreciate the offer. One thing about it though." His face tightened. "I picked up a lot of information from his mind."

Kilruym tensed. He leaned forward the slightest bit.

"How much do you know about my wife's first husband, Koss?" Trip looked at a distant corner of the room.

Kilruym spoke with delicate precision. "Our reports indicate that there has been prior friction between you." Trip choked out a bitter laugh. The Andorian continued, "Your revelation of his family's dishonor provoked his uncle into direct action against you. We do not have confirmed proof of his precise activity, but he was convicted of criminal behavior. As a result, you were awarded 15% of his holdings - holdings that would otherwise have been inherited by his nephew and grandsons." He paused, "There are unsubstantiated rumors of interference with your Kahs Wahn test, but we have no supporting evidence of this," he finished tactfully.

Trip chewed the inside of his cheek. "Yeah. Speaking to someone else, or interacting with anyone else during the Kahs Wahn would invalidate the test. Doesn't matter why." He looked rueful.

"Indeed." Kilruym twisted his antennae in agreement. He kept his gaze locked on the Human.

Trip rubbed his eyes. "Evidence obtained during a mind meld is not admissible in court on Vulcan. I can't prove that Koss sent Tolaris after my wife." The ambassador straightened and stiffened. His face darkened to near cobalt and both antennae drew back to his scalp.

"That..." Kilruym locked his teeth. "I see." He breathed through his nostrils.

Trip met his eyes. "Without proof, there's nothing I can legally do. I can't move against him directly. Even if I nailed the sonuvabitch, it would do more harm than good. It would shame my wife and children on Vulcan for the rest of their lives." Kilruym nodded sadly. "Plus, it would derail the warp project for who knows how long. The whole agreement about the shipyards would have to be renegotiated. My people can't afford that." Trip stopped and gritted his teeth. "This project is important to my people. I'm sure you know why. If you don't, Commodore Shran does. He was with us. He saw the same things I saw. The chronometer is moving, and I'm afraid we don't have enough time as it is."

"I understand completely, Captain Tucker." Kilruym said flatly and coldly. "I am honored that you saw fit to confide in me."

Trip clasped his hands around his coffee cup and bowed his head over it. "I would give, there's no tellin' what I would give, if I could just get my hands on him for five minutes. But I can't, and it's killin' me."

Kilruym's face changed. He leaned forward and put a sympathetic hand on Trip's shoulder. "An honorable man always puts duty ahead of self. There is not a warrior in the galaxy who would not burn with the need to avenge this outrage with his own hands. But an honorable warrior puts the needs of his blood before his desires. Have faith, Captain Tucker. Justice will come."

Trip looked up. "I never understood why you folks think you owe me anything. But if you can help me figure some way out of this, I'll be the one owing you."

Kilruym smiled and twisted his antennae in polite amusement. "You do not understand, Captain Tucker. You stopped a war that would have cost millions of lives. You were willing to sacrifice your life, your name, your career."

"I couldn't just sit there and let V'Las get away with it," Trip mumbled.

Kilruym stopped to look at Trip, who blinked and looked away. He continued more softly, "You had nothing to gain and everything to lose. But you did it because honor demanded it. More, you risked the lives of your crew. You willingly took upon yourself the responsibility for their lives and honor. All for the sake of saving those millions of Andorian lives. And when it came to final battle, you threw your ship and crew directly into the firefight. One ship, against the entire Vulcan fleet."

Trip had nothing to say this time.

He finished. "Every Andorian who might have died in that war owes you their life, Captain Tucker. Every parent of every child who did not die in a Vulcan firestorm owes you their child's life. A debt like that does not get paid in a single lifetime, no matter what you might ask of us."

Trip blew out his breath and sat back. "I still don't think you owe me anything, but I won't argue." He finished the coffee and stood up. "I better get back to the hospital. I like to be there when they bring my son in for feeding." He paused. "If you don't mind, unless my wife specifically asks about it, I would prefer that no one from the embassy discusses this conversation with her. It's not something she needs to be worrying about."

"Of course." The ambassador escorted him through the reception area to the front door. "Set your mind at rest, captain. I am confident that all will be well. In this universe the dishonorable tend to self-destruct."

As soon as Tucker was gone Kilruym headed for his secretary's desk and spoke with soft viciousness. "Get Larka up here. Instantly. And Tegrath as well."

She took one look at his face and jumped on the comm. Her voice echoed throughout the building. "Assistant Attache Larka. Attache Tegrath. Report to the ambassador at best speed."

"Next," Kilruym said between his teeth. "Establish a tight beam connection to the Verlhoin. They are two days out, right?" She gestured confirmation, wide-eyed. "From me to Captain Ruktas. Secure channel." He turned to stomp away, not even hearing her subdued acknowledgment.

Two quick shot of ale, taken like medicine, helped steady his nerves. By the time Captain Ruktas appeared onscreen the ambassador was merely enraged. He planted himself in front of the comm with a killing glare and told Ruktas, "Turn around. Get back here at maximum warp. Do it now."

Ruktas stiffened and his antennae flattened. But an Andorian Guardsman did not even think about disobeying a direct order from a superior. He turned his head and snapped out a string of orders in the abbreviated military lingo of the Guard. A moment later he told Kilruym, "Confirm. We are en route to Vulcan. Accelerating to warp seven." He hesitated. "The dispatches we carry-"

"To the southern ice floes with the dispatches!" Kilruym clenched both fists. "You are coming. Good. As soon as you arrive, I will board and you will resume course for home. We will be traveling at battle speed, so tell your engineers to make sure everything is perfect. If I am delayed by engine trouble it will not be pretty."

"Acknowledged, Ambassador." Captain Ruktas moved carefully. "May I ask the purpose for your trip?"

"Classified. Top secret, eyes-only for the High Command and Council." Ruktas flinched, then straightened in his seat.

"Acknowledged, Ambassador. ETA thirty-seven hours."

Kilruym hit the comm switch and grabbed a recording cartridge. He fed it into his desk and started downloading the most recent recording from his office monitors. Then he wiped the record and initiated a purge program to wipe the record from his main system beyond recovery. The program was still running when his door buzzer sounded.

"Get in here," Kilruym snarled.

Larka and Tegrath walked in. Larka looked subdued and scared. Tegrath was locked down and watchful. Kilruym activated the controls to close and seal the door. "Attention!" They both snapped rigid. "What I am about to tell you is not to be revealed to anyone below fleet command rank. Not under slow torture. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ambassador."

"Understood, sir."

Kilruym stood up and started pacing. "I have just been honored by a visit from People's Hero Tucker." He looked at Larka. "You are being made aware of this because Captain Tucker made a special point of commending your service during this emergency. There is also the matter of his personal declaration of an honor debt, which is a private matter but still worthy of note. It is therefore reasonable that you should be included. However, it is unusual in the extreme for someone at your junior level to be part of an operation of this importance. If you compromise the integrity of this undertaking, your life will be the least of the price you will pay."

"Understood, Ambassador." Her antenna were drawn back all the way to her scalp.

He stopped pacing and clenched his hands together behind his back. "Captain Tucker spoke to me in words that revealed his torment. To begin with, he confirmed the intelligence reports which indicate that Humans have no telepathic shields at all. The attack upon his wife reached through their bond to strike him with full power. Just as if Tolaris had targeted him directly."

They both looked sick. Larka swayed. "That explains why he fell where he stood. As if he had been shot." She closed her eyes and shuddered. "I had thought that he might simply be sending her strength. I have heard that they can do that."

"Perhaps he did," Tegrath said. "The post-mortem on what was left of Tolaris's nervous system revealed extensive damage. Lady T'Pol, in essence, burned his brain. We have been trying to analyze how she did it, in case the Vulcans have developed a new weapon. But if she was using the energy from two minds at once, that might explain it."

"Words cannot express my satisfaction at hearing that," Kilruym growled. "Pay attention. The worst is coming."

They jerked and stared. Kilruym said, "You have both been briefed on Captain Tucker's enmity toward Lady T'Pol's former husband, Koss, and his clan's attempt to murder both Captain Tucker and their daughter."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Kilruym said, "Tucker told me that Lady T'Pol's former husband, Koss, was responsible for the attack by Tolaris." Tegrath maintained proper discipline. Larka couldn't. Kilruym looked at the young woman, who was shaking with rage as badly as he had been when he first learned of it.

"Breathe, Larka," he told her. "We have work to do. Captain Tucker needs our help." He looked at Tegrath. "You don't need this, but I will explain for the youngster."

He told Larka. "Captain Tucker is in an impossible position. Evidence obtained during a telepathic connection cannot be used to prove anything in court. Vulcan law does not permit personal dueling except for mating battles, and even then only under limited circumstances. So he cannot bring charges, and he cannot legally kill Koss. Yet he cannot take direct action outside the law. If it came to light, it would disgrace his family and his wife's clan. More, it would sabotage the project he commands. A project that is of critical importance to his people."

Kilruym stopped and took a deep breath. Then he spoke through his teeth. "And so, People's Hero Tucker has come to us. To ask for our help. For the honor of our entire people, it is beyond critical that this be carried out flawlessly."

"We await instructions." Tegrath's voice was colder than Andoria's poles in midwinter. Larka couldn't speak, but she nodded with a jerk.

"Agent Tegrath," Kilruym said, "I am boarding Verlhoin as soon as it returns. While I am gone to make my report to the Council, you will proceed to gather as much information as you possibly can about Koss, and any associates he may have. It is not sufficient that we kill him. He must be obliterated. He, and all his undertakings, must be destroyed so completely that no detectable trace remains. His existence must be blotted from history, so that no one in the future will ever know or care that he lived. Also make certain to confirm that he was acting alone. If there were co-conspirators, they must also be wiped from existence."

"It shall be done, Ambassador." Tegrath saluted, with gleaming eyes, and antenna flaring widely.

"Larka." She stepped forward. "Your assignment is twofold. First, your task as liaison to People's Hero Tucker will continue as a top priority. The full resources of the embassy are available to you. Whatever he might need or want, see that he gets it. Instantly.

"Second, Tegrath will provide you with a list of his operatives that are assigned to work at the Human factory. He will also provide you with recognition and authorization codes. You will have them assemble a complete accounting of all members of the clan of Tucker's enemies who work at the Human factory. They will gather names, living places, mates, children, pastimes, favorite foods, everything and anything."

Kilruym's eyes narrowed. "You will also tell them to investigate the Vulcans who formerly rode with Tolaris aboard the ship, Vahklas. I want to know how deep the connections between them run, how closely they have maintained those connections, how frequently they have communicated both on and off the job. I want to know everyone that Tolaris spoke to, met with, looked at, or sat at the same table with during his entire time working there. Everything you find, give to Tegrath for in-depth analysis."

"It shall be done, Ambassador." Larka saluted too. Not quite as crisply as Tegrath had, but Kilruym gave her credit for the effort.

He turned back to Tegrath. "Make sure to thoroughly investigate the Vulcan, Jorin, who filed charges against Captain Tucker on behalf of Tolaris. Also, I am deeply interested in the directors of that shipyard. You said that they have been deliberately attempting to sabotage his project?"

"Not necessarily his project, specifically," Tegrath said grimly. "They are embarked on a broad-based campaign to interfere with Captain Tucker's ability to function as an officer of their company. The Human warp project appears to be simply a convenient weak point for them."

"Dissect them to the bone," Kilruym snarled. "I want it all. As will the High Command, beyond question. If we prove that this is a broad-based campaign by that clan against People's Hero Tucker, the retaliatory strikes will need to be planned with extraordinary care."

"Acknowledged," Tegrath said.

"Both of you get busy," he said. "I need to prepare for the trip. I expect a final summary briefing on progress just before I depart." They saluted again and marched out, looking determined. Kilruym headed back to his desk and downloaded yet another office recording.

#

"Confirm. Tucker has activated the Andorian option. Extrapolate 72.54% probability of direct confrontation between Andorian and Vulcan fleets within 37 days."

"Unacceptable. Activate option theta secondary. Insert supplemental test results at chrono integer: 11.3, lateral phasic pass:4, spatial integer:3442.114, subsector:009. Confirm activation and provide supplemental reinforcement as required. It is critical that the Andorians believe that the Romulans are responsible, not the Vulcans."

"Acknowledged."

#

Ganlas stood at the foot of T'Pol's bed wearing his usual non-expression. Trip sat beside the bed in an armchair that Larka had insisted on bringing over. Both children were in the nursery being doted over by a selection of clan elders while Ganlas discussed business with their parents.

"Analysis revealed the presence of a drug cocktail in Tolaris's blood, with the highest residual concentration being found in the remaining portion of the brain," Ganlas said. "The Science Directorate is of the opinion that such high levels could not have been administered in a single dose, or even in a series of ordinary dosages without killing him. Tolaris must have been subjected to a steady release of micro-dosages over a period long enough for him to develop a tolerance. This would allow him to survive, but he would no doubt be driven irretrievably insane."

"And then they carved the implant out of his head after he was dead so you couldn't trace the source," Trip said. "No surprise there. Let me guess. The drug made him aggressive? Maybe paranoid?"

"Among other effects, yes," Ganlas said calmly. "Those would have been two of the most blatant symptoms. As well as inducing a high level of suggestibility and impairing his capacity for critical analysis."

"A perfect living weapon," Trip growled. "With an excuse that would most likely never be questioned unless somebody was already as innately suspicious as the blue guys. God bless them."

"I am deeply saddened by the waste of life," T'Pol said. "When Vahklas first returned, Tolaris gave evidence of desiring to make recompense for his former behavior. This evidence seems to reinforce the probability of Romulan involvement."

"That is our working theory," Ganlas replied. "We are investigating former connections between Tolaris and any member of the V'Las administration, as well as questioning members of the Vahklas crew regarding possible encounters with Romulan agents incognito. The Chief Minister instructs me to request that you refrain from informing Starfleet of this information for the time being, in order to permit the investigation to proceed unhindered."

Trip looked unhappy and rubbed his forehead. T'Pol spoke up. "This is an illogical request. If Starfleet Command asked you to hide something from the High Council, specifically something concerning an investigation into an attack on yourself and your mate, an attack by a Human no less, would you feel obligated to comply?"

"No," Ganlas said calmly. "I did not say that I agreed with the request. Merely that I was instructed to make it."

"I'm not gonna lie to my people, Ganlas," Trip finally said. "But I'm not gonna lie to the High Council either. Best thing is not to tell me anything if you don't want me to repeat it. Except family business of course. That's different."

"Acknowledged," Ganlas said. "And expected. I will return to the investigation and keep you informed up to the limits I am permitted. If not myself, I am confident that the Eldest will provide full information eventually." He headed out and Trip looked at T'Pol.

"Is it just me, or is T'Pau starting to get just a little bit rigid? She didn't use to be this tight minded. Did she?"

"She is carrying a remarkable degree of responsibility," T'Pol said. "She is also in the position of needing to placate the traditionalist members of the Council, while still moving Vulcan closer to the original teachings of Surak. The stress levels are no doubt extreme."

"She needs a vacation," Trip said. "But a crowbar wouldn't get her out of that office. I just hope she doesn't burn herself out. We really need her. Has anyone managed to find her a husband yet?" He hesitated. "I don't recall seeing anything like that during our, um, private discussion."

"I am not aware of anyone," T'Pol said. "I agree it would be beneficial for her to have a mate. I suspect that she is delaying the matter lest her mate decide that her current position is inappropriate."

"Point taken." Trip said. "Well. I'm going to go down to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee. Would you like some tea while I'm there?"

"No, husband," T'Pol gave him a steady look. "It is not necessary that you undertake the diversion of bringing me a cup of tea."

He flushed but said nothing. Trip gave her a quick peck and headed down the hallway, acknowledging the salutes, then ducked into the first pubic restroom he found unoccupied. He pulled his communicator and entered a private code.

"Hello, Larka? Yeah, this is Trip. Listen, can you stop by the hospital when you get the chance? No. No, I mean it. This isn't something you need to just drop everything and run over here after. I just wanted to talk for a moment and I didn't want to do it over the comm. It won't take long. Oh, all right. If you won't settle down, come on over."

That little blue girl is like a puppy. Running back and forth so eager to please. Makes me tired watching her sometimes.

#

Kilruym sat down in the interview chair and faced the semi-circular table where the five ranking members of the High Command, along with Commodore Shran, sat waiting with tense expressions. A moment later the comm sounded with a coded pattern to signal that the room was locked down in maximum security mode.

The senior officer present said, "We are here, Kilruym. Two days of re-scheduling was required to get everyone here at the same time. And you have yet to provide a reason for requesting Commodore Shran to be included. If this is not a pending war situation, I suggest that you begin praying."

Kilruym said. "I requested that Commodore Shran be present for reasons that will become obvious very quickly. I ask only that the assembled officers hear me out before the questions begin. It will save a tremendous amount of time, and time is of the critical essence in this matter."

Senior Fleet Admiral Cohesk glanced along the table briefly, then said, "Proceed."

"I am certain that everyone here is aware of the recent telepathic attack made upon People's Hero Tucker and his family." Shran's antenna flew back against his scalp and his face darkened to cobalt. Everyone else's eyes narrowed. "No doubt you have all read the latest report on the investigation."

"We have," Cohesk said flatly.

Kilruym keyed the console into life and inserted a data disk. "This is the only recording in existence of a recent visit made to my office by People's Hero Charles Tucker. There is one more recording, also the only copy in existence, taken immediately after his departure. The two of them will explain my presence."

The holographic display in front of the curved table activated, showing a life-sized presentation of Tucker's visit. As it progressed, rage on every face began to morph into battle fury. When the presentation finished Shran couldn't take anymore. He leapt from his chair and spun to drive his fist into the wall behind him, cursing at a rate that would put a privateer to shame.

"Commodore." The Fleet Admiral's voice crackled like a disruptor blast. "Sit. This is not a dueling arena." Shran stood with clenched fists for a moment, breathing harshly, then resumed his chair.

"I apologize, admiral," he said. "It will not happen again."

"Good." His superior officer glared, then told Kilruym, "Proceed with the second recording."

They watched coldly as Kilruym gave instructions to Tegrath and Larka. When the display went dark the fleet admiral asked, "Was there any further information of note before you left?"

"Unfortunately, no, admiral," Kilruym said tightly. "My entire staff is working on this to the limit of our available resources, and I anticipate more information upon my return."

"The limit of your available resources is the Andorian empire," the fleet admiral said. "It was not sufficient for the Vulcans to attempt the stealth murder of our children. Now they dare to seek vengeance against the man whose honor forestalled their plotting. This is a direct and willful attack against us all. Payment will be claimed in full for this."

"I am going back with you," Shran said hoarsely. "Tucker's personal request for my presence at the negotiations redeemed my loss of a ship. His loyalty and friendship gave me back my dignity, and my family's pride. When the time comes, I will kill that Vulcan with my own hands."

"Admiral Malenas," Cohesk looked across the room. "Who is the best operative we have?"

She considered for a moment. "There are about seven that are top quality, reasonable choices for a task like this. Tegrath is one of them. But the very best I have in the entire Dark Guard would be Thyren. He is currently assigned to the Earth embassy."

"Perfect," Cohesk said. He told Shran, "Kilruym will escort you on a diplomatic mission. You will make courtesy calls to both shipyards involved in Tucker's project. Along the way, your ship will drop off some replacement personnel and pick up the people who are due to be rotated back home. Thyren will accompany you to Vulcan and coordinate with Kilruym's people upon arrival."

The comm signaled for an incoming message. Every eye in the room jerked around to stare at it. This was not supposed to happen when the room was sealed. Not unless the planet was under attack, or some equally important emergency had occurred. The fleet admiral reached over to press a button.

"Report."

"Incoming message, admiral. For Ambassador Kilruym. From his office on Vulcan. Black Knife classification. Cobalt code to his personal DNA cipher."

Kilruym jerked to his feet and stood quivering. The Cohesk said, "Download it to the testifier's comm, then purge clear absolute."

"Acknowledged."

Kilruym's terminal buzzed and went silent. He sat down and pulled open a tray, drew his boot knife, and nicked his finger to let a few drops fall onto the sensor. The comm lit. The ambassador keyed in a long string of symbols, then leaned forward to let the comm scan his eyes. Then he spat on the sensor tray, which caused another screen to appear. He recited another string of symbols, and opened his mouth wide enough to permit the sensor to scan his teeth. A third screen appeared, and Kilruym input a few symbols, recited some, input a few more, and then sliced off a small piece of skin to drop it on the sensor. He pulled a cloth out of his pocket and wrapped it around the bleeding finger while a readable message appeared. He stared for an extended period of time.

Finally Shran snapped impatiently, "Well?"

Kilruym didn't look up at first. "I have learned about a Human saying. It dates back to the days when they used projectile weapons powered by chemical explosives. If one discovered a murderer standing over a body with smoke still coming out of the projectile weapon, proving that it had just been fired, guilt was self-evident. So now, if a Human finds proof of something beyond a reasonable doubt they say that they have found the 'smoking gun'."

"Continue," Shran said between his teeth.

Kilruym looked up with no expression. "We have found the smoking gun. The message is from Tegrath. Captain Tucker personally informed Assistant Attache Larka that the Vulcan, Tolaris, had been fitted with a drug delivery system designed to turn him into a programmable weapon. Then Koss fired him at Lady T'Pol. Following which, the delivery system was removed. Tegrath also confirmed that the staff who did the autopsy, and then destroyed the report, have disappeared without the slightest trace. Koss is an architect. There is no possible way that he could have had, or gained, the technical skill to do any of this. Much less all of it."

The fleet admiral hissed. "I withdraw my earlier remark about disrupting schedules, Ambassador Kilruym. This is, in fact, a potential war situation. It disturbs me that Captain Tucker was forced to take a direct hand in reporting this to us, however. His entire purpose in coming to us was to avoid exposure."

"He will not be required to do anything more," Kilruym said. "Tegrath is investigating every member of the clan that Koss is a member of who has the skill, or who has had access to someone with the skill, to carry out these preparations. Assistant Attache Larka has moved her work station to the factory full time, and is coordinating with Tegrath's people to re-route the production monitors to our systems for tightest possible security. Guarding of Captain Tucker and his family has been doubled, with Dark Guard strike forces in place at his home and his work."

"A good beginning," Shran said. "When we get back, the hunt will commence in earnest."

#

"We are pleased to welcome you to Vulcan once again, commodore," T'Pau said evenly. "It is even more pleasant to be able to report that Captain Tucker and Lady T'Pol have returned to their home and are recuperating well. Although the healers report that they are having difficulty persuading Captain Tucker to refrain from returning to work before he is full recovered."

"I am not even slightly surprised," Shran chuckled. He glanced around the meeting chamber at the other Council members. "I mean no disrespect by my open expression of amusement. But Tucker's stubbornness is something of a cliché among those who know him. I will gladly add my voice to the chorus who are trying to get him to act sensibly. But I'm not hopeful. In any case, I was scheduled to make a courtesy inspection of both the shipyard in Earth's system, and the one here, before this incident happened. Now I will probably stay slightly longer than originally planned in case I might be of assistance. If there is anything that the Andorian people can do to expedite your investigation, you have only to ask. Our resources are at your disposal."

"Your offer is appreciated, Commodore Shran," T'Pau said. "However, the investigation is progressing steadily."

"In that case," Shran said. "I will get out of your way and let you get back to work." He raised an open hand. "Peace and long life to you all."

Shran walked out of the meeting chamber and gestured. His honor guards moved smoothly to fall in behind him. The three of them proceeded to his aircar in silence and kept their mouths shut until the door closed. Shran snapped, "Monitors?"

"Affirm, commodore," one of the guards leaned over the controls. "You are also wearing some kind of microscopic transmitter. We are clean. They must have planted it on you in the Council chamber somehow. The scrambler is blocking it."

"Where?" The guard pointed at his left arm. Shran held out the limb with a disgusted expression and the guardsman applied a small probe. There was a brief spark and a thread of smoke rose up.

"Neutralized," the guardsman said.

"Human embassy," Shran ordered. "I want to see of Trask has made any progress digging into the Vulcan files."

Ambassador Trask looked as disgusted as Shran felt. "I wish devoutly that I could report otherwise, commodore. They are keeping the whole thing sealed tight. All we have is what Tucker himself gave your young woman, Larka. And that's the last word he got, also. Captain Tucker told them that it was unacceptable to ask him to hide things from his own superiors, and if they didn't want him to tell us something then they shouldn't tell him about it either. I guess they took him at his word. I can't fault any man for being honorable, but it's damned inconvenient trying to work with people like that sometimes."

Shran grunted. "Not a serious problem. Our people can find out what we need, and I suspect that yours are just as competent. I'm guessing you are still fixating on the Romulan idea?"

"I wouldn't say fixating," Trask bristled slightly. "But yes, we are still convinced that they are the most likely suspects. Either Romulan agents, or possibly Romulans working through moles that they left behind in the V'Shar. We're fairly confident that the High Council itself is clean, though. It had better be. We're in no shape to fight a war with Vulcan and the Romulans at the same time."

"You are probably right," Shran agreed. "If it comes to that, you will not be fighting them alone, ambassador. However, we can't miss the chance that it might be something or someone else. Xindi renegades perhaps. Or Klingons, trying to get revenge for the humiliation that your people smeared all over them. Or maybe something from T'Pol's days as a spy. It might even be some xenophobic fringe group who consider it an offense against their god for the races to mix."

"True." Trask ran a hand over his face. "I get so tired of the cloak and dagger sometimes. I know that may sound odd coming from a diplomat. But sometimes I feel like just grabbing a gun so I can go after someone out in the open."

"You served aboard a warship?" Shran gave him a keen look.

"No." Trask sighed and shook his head. "I was recruited into the diplomatic corps straight out of training. It doesn't matter. Ignore me. We have been monitoring the only Klingon who has had any contact with either of them in the last year. So far as we can tell, he has never seen or spoken to Tolaris, and there is no sign of any other connection between them."

"You are investigating Terra Prime?" Shran asked grimly.

"Terra Prime is almost completely extinct," Trask said with satisfaction. "The few remnants are being checked out, but most of them are too busy trying to stay alive and hide their former affiliation to cause any trouble. So far as we can tell, there isn't a single Xindi on this planet at the moment. Maybe your people have found something?"

"Not that I know of," Shran told him. He stood up. "I will return to my embassy and check progress there. If we find anything useful we will keep you informed. I trust you will do the same."

"Of course." Trask stood up too. "If we're right, they're aren't going to stop until Captain Tucker is dead. He is one of perhaps nine individuals among our people whose loss could make the difference between victory or defeat in this war." He casually leaned over and pressed a thumb against an unmarked section of his desk.

"One thing quickly," Trask whispered. "If you find a target and have any hesitation about removing them, let us know. We could probably get away with things here that you couldn't."

He leaned back and lifted his hand. "Safe travels, commodore."

"Your thoughtfulness is appreciated." Shran smiled. "I am sure we will discuss this further soon."

Kilruym looked up when Shran walked into his office. "Welcome, commodore. I trust all went well?" He didn't offer to stand and neither of them saluted. As a full ambassador, in charge of an autonomous embassy, Kilruym's rank was close enough to Shran's that only a file clerk would bother trying to calculate the margin.

"Not really well," Shran grumbled. "But it could have been far worse. The Vulcans actually tried to be polite, astonishingly. I think Trask is sincere. As he pointed out, they are going to keep trying until Tucker is dead, and Trask said losing him would lose the war for them. Not in those words, but that's what it amounted to. He's not going to be difficult about anything significant."

"Helpful," Kilruym said. "Was there any hint that the Humans know about Koss?"

"No," Shran said. "The Vulcans aren't the only ones keeping things tight. Any more information about him?"

"Yes," Kilruym said. "Koss carries a personal communicator that puts out a subcarrier wave designed to scramble the frequencies used by the Security Directorate. Our agents went over his quarters and found that his personal comm is equipped with masking, scrambling, encrypting, and other security protocols that would do credit to this office. His closet contains a selection of garments ranging from top quality robes that would be appropriate for use when consulting with a head of state, down to ragged working clothes that most indigent day laborers would sneer at. And everything in between. And he has three unlicensed disruptors, each of a different style, all designed to be carried concealed."

Shran's eyes were shining. "Who is his primary contact?"

Kilruym bared his teeth. "We haven't found them yet. Whoever they are, Koss meets them in the oldest part of the city, a tangled warren of narrow streets and residences where a non-Vulcan would draw attention like a severed arm. Our people are working on ways around the difficulty as we speak."

"A Human might pass," Shran muttered. "But we can't ask them for help, for obvious reasons. And we can't get help from T'Pol's clan, either. Even though they no doubt already have the place saturated with eyes." He growled and slammed his fist on the desk. "And it won't do any good to simply kill Koss before we track them down. No doubt they have other puppets on the string waiting to activate."

"We will find them, commodore," Kilruym said confidently. "Our people are the best in the galaxy.

#

Koss walked slowly down the ancient narrow street with his hands in his sleeves and his head bowed, deep in thought. The few passers-by paid no attention, as was typical for this part of the city. He turned from the street into an even more narrow walkway that twisted like the vines of a desert marnik until he came to a building corner that thrust itself perhaps half an arm's length out into the passage.

Koss stepped around the partial barrier and in the process turned to glance back. No one was in sight, and his wrist chronometer gave no signal. He glanced up, then once more in the direction ahead. Finally he laid his hand on the wall beside him and stepped into the opening that appeared.

A row of tiny lights along the base of the walls delineated the hallway. Otherwise the corridor was pitch black. Koss followed the pair of straight lines to a dimply lit room enclosed in solid stone blocks with a flagstone floor. Two pair of ancient torch holders had been converted to hold modern light fixtures and a simple stone chair occupied the center of the floor. He seated himself and waited.

A hidden comm emitted a faint rustle. Then a soft voice spoke.

"Have you anything to report regarding pursuit or suspicion of your actions?"

"Nothing," Koss said confidently. "No one has any idea that I am involved."

"Fool!"

The anger in the voice made him twitch.

"I have warned you before. You refuse to listen. When you die it will be due to your own arrogant stupidity, and no other reason. Neither the Humans nor the Andorians are blind. Nor do either of them lack intelligence. Why do you think that we are moving with careful precision in this matter, if they are as incompetent as you believe them to be? If they were the idiot children that you seem to believe, we could simply walk in and take over."

Koss took a brief instant to settle his mind. "There has been no indication from anyone that I am the subject of suspicion."

"Which simply means that you are too overconfident to take the precautions that would allow you to find out."

"No." Koss stirred indignantly. "I have used all of the security equipment that you provided, precisely as instructed. I have placed monitors as instructed. I have paid close attention to every conversation that involves the situation."

"Have you really? Did you place monitors in Tucker's home? Did you place monitors in the home or personal offices of Kuvak? Or T'Pau? Have you suborned assistance from the staff of the Human and Andorian embassy? No. Therefore, you have no chance of hearing anything incriminating. The only possible to know if you are under suspicion is direct evidence that you are being investigated. Have you searched for that?"

"I told you," Koss started to bristle. "I have used all of the security equipment."

"Both the Dark Guard and Section 31 are fully capable of bypassing standard equipment. Did you even bother to take the most basic precaution of placing a tracer on the public database that would inform you if someone accessed your personal records? Did you use anything besides the standard security equipment to protect your quarters? For example, have you noted the precise placement of every item in there? Have you run DNA scans after every return? Did you place microscopic threads across the doorways and then check to see if they had been broken?"

"No." Koss started to sound subdued.

"In the absence of evidence to the contrary, you must always assume that you are under suspicion. Operate as if you are known and that the enemy is about to strike at any moment. Be ready to react and keep contingency plans in place at all times."

"But."

"I do not care what anyone else tells you! If you are interrogated you might be traced back to me! If you do not begin to display a minimum of basic intelligence, instantly, I will remove you myself. Is this clear?"

"Understood. Acknowledged."

"Dismissed."

#

Shran waited impatiently while the secretary announced him, the strode into Kilruym's office like he was stepping onto a bridge. "What have you found?" he demanded. The door slid shut behind him.

Attache Tegrath stood at attention in front of the desk, where Kilruym sat looking hungry. "Commodore Shran," the ambassador said. "Have a seat. This will take some time."

"Then let's get started with it." Shran threw himself into the chair. "What do you have?"

"We found the Romulans," Kilruym said.

Shran stiffened. "All right. Continue."

Tegrath said, "Koss has been making regular contact with the owner of a tea shop in the oldest part of the city. We traced his background and found nothing at all. He's empty. Blank. So we kept digging. He first appeared two and a third years ago. He replaced the previous owner who disappeared completely, never to be seen again. Agent Thyren started monitoring, and intercepted three burst transmissions over the course of the last two days. None more than five nanoseconds. All encrypted. All using symbols that match known Romulan signals. They were directional and tight beam. If he had not saturated the immediate area with sensors, we would have missed them. I doubt the Vulcans got any trace."

"Clear and perfect." Shran nodded grimly. "The Humans were right, and the approach was logical enough for a Vulcan to have spawned it. T'Pol is no threat to them, but she was much easier to reach. And killing her would be just as good as killing him."

"Yes." Kilruym looked like death with a toothache. "With Humans having no telepathic defenses, Captain Tucker might be permanently incapacitated by the attack. Or even killed. Which would cripple the Human warp program. Or the Humans believe it would."

Tegrath ventured, "All our reports confirm that they were stuck in the slush until he took over and started cracking heads together."

"There's no doubt that he's the best the Humans have with warp engines," Shran said. "None of them will tell you anything different. His second, Anna Hess, is far above Human average. But the student has not surpassed the teacher yet. She tells me that the man has an instinct for engines. As if he can reach out with his spirit and simply know what it's doing. An artist as much as an artisan. She says people like him only come along perhaps once in a Human generation, if they are lucky."

"So now we know." Kilruym tightened his fists. "Koss is not only trying to murder a Hero of the Andorian people. He is a traitor to his own world as well. I am struggling to formulate a death appropriate for one like him."

"Don't bother," Shran said. "There is none. We will simply eliminate him and let Mother Andor handle judgment. But those Romulans must be dealt with."

"The Humans are also watching them," Tegrath said. Shran looked up sharply. "We have confirmed that there are Human agents conducting surveillance on the tea shop."

"As the most experienced one among us when it comes to working with Humans," Kilruym said, "I want your opinion on contacting them for a cooperative effort."

Shran considered. Then he asked Tegrath, "Do you have a clear line of communication to your alternate at the Human embassy?"

"Yes, commodore," Tegrath said. "He's their cleaning maintenance supervisor."

Shran laughed. "Perfect. Typical Human misdirection, hiding in plain sight. No one looks at a cleaner, and they can go anywhere at any time. They can even 'accidentally' walk into a meeting and innocently explain that they thought the room was empty, taking a series of scans on their way out the door. I truly enjoy working with these people. Quietly provide him with the Romulan information and the connection to Koss. Do it in such a way that he knows where it came from, but there is nothing provable to tie it to us. Then wait for their response. It may be that they are already preparing a strike, and I would hate to throw off their aim."

#

Belaris had arrived at the embassy on Earth seventeen days ago. He had been on duty at the front desk for fifteen of those days, and was rapidly reaching the point of murder. Internally, he was debating whether the assignment was designed to test his self-discipline to destruction, or whether he had unknowingly committed some offense and was being punished by this refined form of torture. In either case he was certain that a few more days of inane inquiries, from supposedly sapient Humans, would drive him to violence.

When the non-descript Human male wandered in, Belaris strongly suspected that his time had come. The Human wandered aimlessly through the lobby with his hands in his jacket pockets, craning his neck as he examined the furnishings and artwork. He proceeded toward the reception area at the speed of a yawn, finally stopping in front of the desk and offering an insipid smile.

"Good morning to you, young man," the Human said. Belaris noted from his training that the man's tone and body language presented friendly intentions. "I need to speak to your ambassador. Just briefly."

"Indeed?" Belaris said. "I presume you have an appointment?" Of course the Human didn't. No one had an appointment for that morning. The Ambassador had given strict instructions that she was in a high priority meeting and was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. But going through the standard motions was usually the simplest way to get rid of fools.

"I don't need an appointment," the Human said easily.

Belaris felt his antennae flatten. "No one sees the ambassador without an appointment." He fought to keep his voice under control. Despite his daydreams, open murder in broad daylight was not really a good idea.

The Human leaned his elbows on the polished obsidian counter and regarded Belaris with the Human head tilt that indicated curiosity. Or sometimes, thoughtful consideration. "I think the ambassador will see me, kid. I really do. How about you just send a message upstairs and find out?"

Belaris closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "You are mistaken. If you wish to leave your name, I will forward it to my supervisor for consideration..." The cold feel of metal against his throat snapped his eyes open. The Human's expression had not changed. His casual slouch had not changed. His smile had not changed. The only change was the small sidearm in his hand.

"Now, kid," the Human's tone did not alter in the slightest, "go ahead and send that message upstairs like I requested. If the ambassador wants identification, tell her Mr. Harris would like to consult with her on a matter of joint concern. Your people down in the basement know who I am. Tell her the keyword is Tucker."

#

"Theta secondary successful. Andorian and Human operatives preparing a joint attack on Romulan base. Probability of success 97.4%."

"Confirm. Interdiction of supplemental personnel underway."

#

Koss pressed his lips together. Half of the indicator lights on his console were flashing green and the rest had gone dark. He flipped up the cover and pressed the actuator button for the emergency beacon. Then he switched the controls to manual and skillfully glided the craft to a soft landing on lift thrusters alone. He powered down the board in irritation and sat back to wait. His planned meeting with his handler was certainly going to need re-scheduling. He could barely contain the wince.

Perhaps the matter could be expedited. He reached for the comm controls and selected the ident code for emergency services. There was no response. A run through the available list of codes on file produced the same result. Koss carefully replaced the microphone and resumed his reclining position. Assuming that his beacon was functional, help should be arriving within an hour. Even if it was not, his absence would trigger a search by morning at the latest. The aircar was sealed and proof against any danger of the night. Patient waiting was the logical course of action.

Forty-two minutes later the running lights of an emergency vehicle became visible on approach. Koss allowed himself a private smile and collected his paperwork. The emergency carrier descended with pinpoint precision, leaving only enough gap between the two cars for both doors to open. Beacon lights activated, scanning the area and revealing nothing. Koss calmly exited his crippled aircar, locked the door behind him, and entered the emergency vehicle's rear hatch. The large rear compartment was empty, and the door between the pilot's section and the rear section was closed. As there was no logical reason for him to speak to the driver, Koss seated himself on the nearest bench and felt the craft take off.

The time required to reach destination was only slightly longer than it would have taken him in his own car. It might even be possible to complete his meeting tonight after all. Relief washed through him. The vehicle settled to ground and he heard the engines deactivate. Koss stood up and activated the door. Then his brows drew together.

He had exited into a subsurface parking garage. Not necessarily illogical per se, although it would add to his inconvenience. However the garage was completely empty except for the emergency vehicle and himself. Not only were there no other cars, there were no signs, directions, or any other markings to be seen. Koss walked around to the cab and noted that the driver had departed. He must have moved quite swiftly.

There was only one Vulcan sized door visible. He crossed the garage with increasing irritation and pressed the button. The door slid aside to reveal an Andorian in nondescript civilian clothing. Koss recoiled several steps. "Who are you? What is the meaning of this?"

The Andorian made no overt act of hostility. In fact he bowed, twisting his antennae in what Koss recalled was at least neutral acknowledgment. "Your name is Koss, I believe?"

"Yes," he snapped nervously. "What of it?"

The Andorian smiled. "My name is Thyren. I need to speak with you."

#

"Look Ma-mehk! Look Sa-da! Malcolm grabbed my finger!" T'Lissa danced gleefully beside the sofa, absorbed in her new sibling-toy to the exclusion of all else. Trip grinned and looked at T'Pol, who watched her children with shining eyes.

The door chime sounded and Trip got up to check the monitor. "It's Anna and Kov." He pressed a button and sat back down. Footsteps sounded down the hallway and Anna peeked around the casing. She burst into a sunshine smile and bustled over to start cooing and gushing compliments, which Trip's ladies soaked up in complacent satisfaction. Kov hesitated at the doorway, until Trip waved him in.

"Glad to see you both," Trip told him calmly. Kov looked like he'd been smacked.

"I... am... joyful to see that you are all safe and well, Charles." The young Vulcan man hung his head.

"Forget it, Kov," Trip stood up and took his arm. They sidled to a far corner. "It wasn't your fault."

"I wish that were true," Kov said painfully. "I will not forget the debt that I owe to your family."

"I said forget it." Trip suddenly realized that he had laid hands on the son of a Council Minister. He let go of Kov's arm. "You weren't responsible. People make their own decisions."

"Yet," Kov obviously struggled. "There is also the fact that if Tolaris had received proper treatment, as he had been promised, this would not have happened. Other members of the crew are being tested, but so far only Tolaris seems to have been implanted with the drug delivery system. He trusted his government's word, and by extension my word. Instead he was twisted into a weapon."

"Did you ever discover the identity of the individuals responsible?" T'Pol's quiet voice slid between them. The two men turned to see T'Pol and Anna looking at them while T'Lissa let her brother play with her nose.

"Oddly enough," Kov said, "we seem to have been presented with information that may lead us to that goal. But it was not by our own efforts."

"What happened?" Anna sat up suddenly. "Why didn't you say anything to me about this?"

"Actually, Anna," Kov said, "I intended to. However I was unable to seize an appropriate gap in the conversation until now." She blushed and bit her lip.

"You got one now," Trip said. "Give it up." At Kov's expression, he clarified, "Spill it. Tell us."

"Early this morning," Kov said, "the Security Directorate received notification that a criminal operation was underway in a tea shop in the oldest part of the city. Upon investigation they found the tea shop thoroughly secured. When they finally entered therein, three corpses were discovered along with a significant amount of useful information." He paused. "I regret that my security clearance is not high enough for me to be informed of any further details via official channels. However, my father informs me that the individuals who were operating the tea shop were in fact agents for an alien power. He is certain that further investigation will reveal a connection between them and Tolaris. He was not permitted to expand on this."

Trip's eyes narrowed. "An alien power. Did he say which alien power?"

Kov took a deep breath. "No. But he did not indicate that this discovery would cause any difficulty with Anna's work. Therefore I deduce that they were neither Human, Andorian, nor Tellarite."

"Romulan," Anna said.

"Romulan," Trip said.

"Romulan," T'Pol said.

"Watsa Rommyulin?" T'Lissa asked.

"Mean people, honey," Trip told her tightly. "But don't worry. We'll make sure they don't hurt you or Malcolm."

"Oky." She went back to blowing on her brother's peach fuzz hair, and giggling when he tried to twist his head to find the source of the sensation.

Kov looked uncomfortable. "There is one other matter. Anna tells me that according to Human custom, it would be more appropriate for us to inform you of this than to wait for you to hear it from official channels." Anna's face turned grim.

"What?" Trip stood straight and still. He glanced at Anna, then back to Kov. "Go ahead and say it."

Kov swallowed and said, "It relates to…" He couldn't continue. "I apologize for my lack of discipline."

Anna interrupted, "Kov is so torn up already that he can't stand the thought of piling this on top of everything else you two are already going through. But I know you can stand it. The connection between Tolaris and the Romulans was T'Pol's former husband. He seems to have split the air leaving. But the manhunt is on and Kuvak is confident that they will track him down pretty quickly."

T'Pol kept her expression a smooth as window glass. "This is disagreeable, but not overly disruptive. I hope the Security Directorate does not neglect to investigate possible associates of both men."

"Indeed," Kov said. "The backgrounds and all recent contacts for both men are being thoroughly checked. In depth."

"Well." Trip let out a deep breath. "It could be worse. At least I won't have to put up with him at the next Gathering." T'Pol shot him a look that was not brimful of affection, and he winced slightly.

#

Jorin paused to survey the marnik and sighed. He walked around the plant, taking care to remain well beyond the reach of its vines, and examined the ground carefully. He noted the tracks where Koss had walked, somewhat unsteadily but without hesitation, directly toward his death. Jorin briefly considered dropping a torch on the plant, but rejected the idea as being inappropriate for someone in his position. It was not the Vulcan way to seek revenge. Particularly on a mindless life form that simply did what came naturally.

Andorians would have shoved or thrown him. This was more subtle, inducing him to walk into the marnik himself. Apply logic and analyze the situation using all that you know of Humans. How would they have proceeded?

The far side of the area still showed the marks where the aircar sat.

This was what he was aiming for.

He lifted his gaze to the surrounding hills, scanning them in a slow circle until his inspection returned to the footsteps on the far side of the marnik. Jorin considered. It would not be completely bereft of logic for someone to climb the nearby rocks to obtain a better view, in order to search for a possible source of aid. From the top, it was easy to see that the far slope was much less steep. So the natural thing to do would be to walk down and circle the hill to return to his aircar. Which would require walking directly across the sand.

Except no Vulcan, not even Koss, would be foolish enough to cross an open area of sand at night without checking it carefully. And this point is not along the logical route from Telo mesa back to Shi'Kahr. The tracking and navigational systems were non-functional, but the car was otherwise undamaged. So. He was probably intercepted the first night, and his aircar confiscated. Interrogation. Drugs. Torture.

There would be no evidence, of course. The body was too far gone in digestion by the plant before it was discovered for an autopsy to be of benefit. Any bruises were long since removed along with the skin. And the marnik's toxins would have overpowered any drugs, if present.

Then they brought him back here. Did he promise to turn double agent? Or perhaps a ruse to imitate an escape was used. No matter. They left him here, across from his aircar with the interior lights activated. A shining beacon of hope and safety. Dazed and frightened, he would have stumbled straight toward it.

He would not expect a marnik. Surely not even a Human would be insane enough to park right next to a marnik. I told them. Repeatedly. I warned them again and again.

Jorin grunted and started walking, angling slightly away from the most direct path back to his aircar. He let his steps slow as he approached the side of a low hill, carefully examining the area for unwelcome creatures. When nothing resembling a Human, Andorian, or Vulcan showed itself he turned and walked directly into the hill, apparently sinking into the dirt as if it was air. Appropriate enough, since it was air.

Once inside the holographic screen, he moved toward the hatch of a tiny shuttle which rested against the base of the true hill. Jorin laid his hand on the control pad and waited. A moment later the hatch slid aside and he found himself, as expected, looking at the emitters of a pair of disruptors. Being in no mood for tolerance, he snarled, "Put those away, fools. If I were a traitor you would already be dead."

A voice within the ship said, "Stand down." It did not speak Vulcan. Jorin stepped inside and walked to the front, where he stopped to press his fist against his chest. "You are overdue, Sub-Centurion Jarsin. Explain."

"I was under close surveillance by both the Andorians and the Humans," he said. "It was necessary to provide a plausible reason for leaving the city and coming out here. That's why I requested a meeting at this location, because it is near the point where they executed Koss."

The figure seated at the controls lounged back and idly ran a finger over his brow ridge. "Yes. Koss. As well as the loss of an entire installation. An installation that took five years of careful preparation to establish. The admiral will not be happy. Do you have any excuse to offer? Perhaps you were distracted by indigestion?"

"I warned them, three times," Jorin said tightly. "I told them that it was idiocy not to maintain a contingency plan in case of direct attack. Centurion Gurdelen dismissed my concerns and commanded me to stop harping on it. I also warned them at least twice, and warned Koss five times, that they were underestimating their enemy."

"I was assured by Gurdelen," the shadowed figure said wryly, "that even if Tucker survived he would seek to reconcile with 'your' clan at all costs. The centurion was convinced that this Human was unwilling to do anything that would displease his mate. Gurdelen guaranteed that they could disrupt the Human project with little to no risk of exposure."

"He was a fool!" Anger started to darken Jorin's face. "Tucker is a battle veteran, and they share seventeen percent of our own blood! Of course Tucker was going to fight back. The Andorians were the most powerful resource available to him, so he used them. It was self-evident, and I tried repeatedly to warn them all."

"Then why did you not warn me?" The figure's voice suddenly sounded dangerous.

Jorin stood perfectly still. "Are you saying that I should have committed mutiny by superseding the centurion's direct order? That would have simply gotten me shot faster. If I am to be executed for doing my job, at least I will die knowing that I performed my duty honorably."

"You have been here for so many years that you have become insolent." The figure sat very still. "Still, the evidence indicates that you have remained loyal. You are the most senior operative remaining. Take command. Your assignment is to disrupt, delay, and if possible completely disable the Human war effort here. Killing Tucker is, of course, a high priority. If not Tucker, other key personnel on his project would be valid targets. Are you under direct suspicion yet?"

"I do not believe that the Humans suspect me. Yet." Jorin said. "The Andorians distrust every Vulcan on general principles, and anyone who is a member of the same clan that Koss and Tolaris belonged to is automatically on their list of potential hostiles. The Vulcans, of course, are hopelessly blind. They will not suspect anything while the manacles are being fastened."

"Get busy," his superior ordered. "Fleet operations schedule has been revised. In one year plus two hundred and eighty-three days, the Human campaign begins."

FINIS

Good-bye and thanks to everyone who took the time to read this, and profound thanks to everyone who took the time to leave comments. To all the friends I made on HoT, TriS, and all the other sites, I offer the most heartfelt gratitude. Your encouragement, thoughtful scolding, and occasional smacks upside the head are responsible for whatever writing ability I may have developed over the years. I can't possibly list all the names, my computer doesn't have the much RAM or drive space for a document that long. But I remember all of you. I will always remember.

For legal reasons having to do with copyright nonsense and a few other things, I've been advised not to advertise commercial work here. But I will mention that if anyone is into High Fantasy, and might like a trilogy about a magic forest that isn't really cursed, and is not repelled by books that have sharp objects on the cover like, just for example, a witch's athame, drop by amazon and look around. You might find something you could enjoy. Or perhaps not. There are a lot of good books there, or I think so. Two in particular. Soon there will be one more. Either way, happy reading.