All Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios et al. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred. All other characters belong to me, and are copyrighted by Par/59 Enterprises.

By

Barbara A. Roman

This piece is set sometime after ST/ANIMATED SERIES but before ST/TMP

**********

Matt Jeffries stood gazing out of the window of his office. The street in front of the window was bustling with Pandorians going about their business. Pandor 6 was a quiet and peaceful world, a sort of backwater paradise and there usually was very little for Jeffries and his staff to do. While Chief Diplomatic Observer duty on Pandor 6 was not exactly a blue ribbon assignment in diplomatic circles, it was just what he needed at this time.

His last mission had been a very trying and frustrating one. For over a year and a half he had served on a commission that had been given the job of hammering out a trade agreement between the Federation and the Daipcian Imperate. The Daipcians were a belligerent race that constantly squabbled over everything, no matter how insignificant. It had taken almost three standard months just to come to agreement over the color of the cloths on the negotiating table. The ordeal of that assignment had left him mentally, physically and emotionally drained.

This assignment also gave him the opportunity to sort out his personal life as well. He was still getting over Corinne.

A myriad of images flooded into his head at the mere thought of her name. The first time he saw her was at a reception for some ambassador, he forgot which one. He was an attached to the Federation Trade delegation. She was the daughter of one of the corporate CEO's that had been invited to the affair. She was a goddess. Her corn silk hair framed a milk and honey face with the deepest brown eyes he had ever seen on a Human. Suddenly, there was no one else in the reception hall. Six months later, they were married.

As soon as the passion of the honeymoon wore off, however, it was obvious that the marriage would not work. Even though they were deeply in love, they had diametrically different goals and expectations about the other's role in the marriage.

She needed someone to provide security and roots, complete with the traditional house with a white picket fence around it, 2 3/4 children, and a dog, and resented the fact that his job took him far from Earth and from her, sometimes for months on end.

He needed someone who was flexible and had a strong sense of adventure, a free soaring, spirited person, willing to pack up at a moment's notice and go with him to the far-flung worlds that he so loved. He resented the fact that she wouldn't drop everything and come with him.

After much soul searching and many long hours of talking, arguing, crying, and screaming, they had reached the conclusion that, even though they were still in love, they would not renew their marriage contract. That was two years ago. It still hurt.

C'oLLo'Rg, his First Assistant, and a specialist in non-verbal communication, moved one of his/her/its eye stalks in his direction. Phylosians were a plant species, highly intelligent and very personable. They were also both bisexual and asexual, each one being able to reproduce both with a partner and without. Like others of his/her/its race, C'oLLo'Rg kept his/her/its personal life extremely private. In the 18 months that they had been on Pandor 6, Matt had never heard C'oLLo'Rg speak of his/her/its family, friends, or past. All that Matt knew of the plant being was what was in his/her/its personnel file.

Even that was sketchy. He/she/it was 57 standard years old. Young for a Phylosian. He/she/it had graduated Magna Cum Laude from the Phylosian University and had entered Federation service immediately after. He/she/it has served in four postings before Pandor 6. Each one more prestigious and with more responsibility.

"Mmatttthheww Jjeffffrriess." He/she/it said in the whispering hiss that was his/her/its voice. It was a most unusual sound, somewhat like wind rustling through leaves. The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, since he/she/it did not have a mouth as such, just a small opening in the yellow blossom shaped part of his/her/its body that served as a head. "Tthhiss Onne hhass nnotthhinngg tto rrepporrt ffrromm tthhe mmonnittorrs. Evverrytthhinngg iss qquiett. Ddoess tthhatt ddisstturrbb you?"

"No, Charlie, that does not disturb me. Peace and quiet never disturb me. Does it disturb you?" Matt snapped at C'oLLo'Rg.

Since his/her/its given name was difficult to pronounce, someone on the staff had dubbed him/her/it 'Charlie' and 'Charlie' he/she/it had remained. He/she/it took it good natured, and actually seemed to enjoy being called by his/her/its nickname.

C'oLLo'Rg seemed to wilt a little at Matt's words. "Tthhiss Onne iss nnevverr ddisstturrbbedd. Itt iss nnott inn Tthhiss Onne'ss nnatturre tto bbe uppssett."

It was true. C'oLLo'Rg never seemed to lose his/her/its calm, middle of the road temperament. Although he/she/it showed a wide range of emotion, he/she/it was always in complete control and never went to extremes. It was one of the qualities that made him/her/it such a valuable addition to Matt's staff.

In addition to Matt and C'oLLo'rg, there was Starac, a young Vulcan. He was the second eldest son of a high order family and had attended the Vulcan Academy, graduating sixth in a class of 1,473. Although he was barely out of his teens, Matt had come to depend on his wisdom and judgment. At the few postings he had before being assigned to Pandor 6, he had acquitted himself admirably. He had great potential to be an outstanding diplomat. His official title was Chief of Protocol, but he was also an expert in Alien Technologies and just happened to speak flawless Klingonese.

There was also a small support staff, secretaries, clerks, and domestic help. All in all, there were 37 people under Matt's supervision.

Pandor 6 was a class M planet, the sixth and only inhabitable planet of the star Pandora. The climate was mild and stable. The people were of a Humanoid/Klingon mix, the result of interbreeding of very early explorers from Earth and Klinzhai, and a small indigenous race. Most of them were fifth or sixth generation. They had been there long enough and had enough unique racial and cultural qualities to qualify as a distinct subspecies, Pandorians. The natural resources were abundant, although there were no rare minerals or other exploitable substances. The ecology was clean and relatively unspoiled. Technology was late Industrial/early Electronic age. Some fossil fuels but mostly solar and geothermal power. They had limited space capabilities, mostly within their own solar system. Naturally, because of their origins, there was no need for First Contact. By the terms of the Organian Treaty, Pandor 6 was a neutral developing planet. Except for research and observation posts, no extrapanetary government was permitted to interfere with the people or the culture.

Matt glanced out the window again. The Federation Observation Post and Research Station was housed in an unimposing but comfortable building located at the edge of a large central square in the Pandorian capital of Jinnfreete. Directly across the square, in a similar building, was the Klinzhai Educational and Cultural Exchange. Officially, they were both there to study and document the development and culture of the Pandorian People. Jeffries knew, though, that the Klingon outpost bristled with all the latest state-of-the-art surveillance equipment. Just as the Federation outpost did. Pandor 6 was in an unusual position. Much of its orbit ran along the border between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. It was in a perfect place to afford each party an excellent opportunity to monitor activities occurring well within the other's territory.

"Ddo you wwanntt Tthhiss Onne tto sshhutt ddowwnn tthhe mmonnittorrs fforr tthhe nnigghhtt?" C'Ollo'Rg asked.

"Of course, you mutated geranium. You shut them down every night, don't you? What makes you think that tonight is any different?"

C'oLLo'Rg's head blossom drooped and he/she/it made low whistling noises that were his/hers/its equivalent of crying.

Suddenly Matt realized what he had done. The Phylosian was an extremely gentle creature that would not intentionally harm a sand flea.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie. I didn't mean it. I don't know what is happening. Please forgive me."

"Tthhiss Onne exxccussess you. Tthhiss Onne rreallizzes tthhatt you arre a ggoodd ffrriennd tto Tthhiss Onne."

"I know that, but I also know that lately I have been snapping at everybody without cause. I don't understand it."

Matt wasn't the only one exhibiting odd behavior. He had noticed that there had been a significant rise in the number of violent acts in the area. It seemed that the police were constantly being called to stop brawls, domestic fights and vandalism.

**********

Captain James T. Kirk flipped off the recorder and called up the holomaps of Sector G. There wasn't all that much to see. Sector G was an unremarkable sector along the border of the Klingon Empire. There were seven solar systems in the sector and only three of them had inhabited planets. There was Gelasis, primarily an agricultural planet in the Megan system; Calverni, which had a small trading and recreational complex, orbited a double star known only as G-154/155; and Pandor 6, a hands-off planet in the Pandorian system. None of the planets contained anything that was of any significant value and if it weren't for the fact that they were on or near the Klingon border, they would hardly rate a second look. Even so, starships were assigned to patrol the area mostly as a precaution.

Kirk turned off the holoscreen just as Dr. Leonard McCoy came into the room.

"Ready to go and meet the new crew members?" McCoy asked.

"Right on cue, Bones." Kirk said without looking up. "I was just about to leave when I received a vid from Admiral Peres. It seems that the Federation wants us to make a completely unofficial detour on our way to Sector G. They want us to go to Vulcan and see if we, or more precisely, Spock, can persuade T'Lar to release the originals of the Vulcan Chronicles to the Federation Historical Society. They need them to complete their history of all of the planets in time for the 300th anniversary of the founding of the Federation."

Most of the planetary governments had cooperated with the Historical Society's requests and had released all the necessary documents relating their early history. Only Vulcan had steadfastly refused to turn over their records prior to the time of Surak, who is conceded to be the father of modern Vulcan. While there were many exceptional reprints and translations readily available, the Society preferred to work directly from the originals whenever possible. Although this was not a matter of security, it was a matter of very delicate pride. The Society very politely requested the Chronicles. T'Lar - equally politely - refused to let them have them.

Kirk continued. "The Society feels that since Spock is from one of Vulcan's most highly respected families and since there are close personal ties between his family and T'Lar as well, perhaps he can succeed where conventional methods have failed."

McCoy shrugged. "You know T'Lar can be very difficult when she wants to be. She is, after all, the head of the High Council and protecting the Chronicles is one of her responsibilities. A responsibility she takes very seriously, I might add. After all, they are an integral part of Vulcan history."

The intercom sounded. "Transporter room, Captain. All supplies and personnel aboard. Ready to beam Lt. Commander Aarayan aboard."

"Ah, Yes. The mysterious Commander Aarayan. Nobody seems to know anything about him." McCoy said as they headed for the turbolift. "Care to fill me in?"

"I was kind of hoping you'd fill me in. After all, your ... " Jim cleared his throat. " ... sources are much better placed and much more accurate than anybody else's on board. All that the notice said was. Quote - Lt. Cdr. T. Aarayan would be assigned to the Enterprise as Technical Officer as a last minute replacement for Lt. M. Pollard, who had been taken ill. Lt. Cdr. Aarayan will be fourth in command. - End Quote. That was all. Since this was a last minute thing, he'll be bringing his 308 file with him. I won't know anything more until I see that."

"My sources came up dry too, although Starbase scuttlebutt says that he's been stuck in Admin his whole hitch. I don't like it, Jim. A pencil pusher for third mate. I mean, shouldn't the guy have at least some deep space experience? But then again, as a famous Earth poet once said, 'Ours is not to wonder why ... ' I think it was Hemingway."

"Tennyson." Kirk corrected. "And the correct quote is 'THEIRS is not to wonder why'."

"Whatever. You know, you are beginning to sound just like Spock."

"Why thank you, Dr. McCoy. That's the nicest thing you've said to me all day." Jim made a mock curtsy.

"There you go again. I don't have to stand here and be insulted."

"Oh. Where do you want to go to be insulted?"

"JIM!"

The turbolift door opened and they stepped inside. By the time they reached the Transporter room, Spock and Scott were waiting. When they had taken their places, the transporter began to hum.

The chamber was filled with shimmering, swirling colors that slowly coalesced into the silhouette of a Human. As the silhouette became solid flesh, it became obvious that Lt. Cdr. T. Aarayan was a woman. Not only that, but a very beautiful woman as well. She was about 5' 9" tall, slender and perfectly proportioned. As she moved off the transporter chamber platform, her movements vaguely reminded Kirk of a cat. Her jet black hair was cut to Starfleet regulations. Her complexion was smooth with just a hint of olive undertones. Her eyebrows arched sharply above violet-blue eyes. Aarayan turned her head slightly. Her profile was just as stunning as the front face. Only from this view, Kirk could see that her ears came to a pronounced point. He silently mouthed the word "Vulcan."

"Lieutenant Commander T'Anya Aarayan reporting for duty, Captain Kirk." She said, handing him her personnel datadisc. Then, noticing the perplexed look on his face, as well as most of the other persons in the room, she added. "Apparently they did not tell you that I was a Vulcan."

Kirk shook his head slowly. "There was very little in the message other than the fact that you were coming aboard. Aarayan... That name is familiar."

"My father was Lawrence Aarayan."

"The explorer?"

"You know him?"

"Only by reputation. His explorations of the Outer Planets laid the groundwork for the Federation claim to much of that sector. He is a legend in his own time. Unfortunately, from the material I read, there was no mention that he was married or that he had such a lovely daughter."

"Technical documents do tend to be ever so slightly impersonal, Captain. My mother and father met at Federation University. She was teaching Anthropology and he was researching the Federation claims. They collaborated frequently, both professionally and socially. Finally, he persuaded her to collaborate on a permanent basis. After they were married, they settled on Earth. I was born there."

Cdr. Aarayan turned to Spock and raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. "May you live long and prosper, Spock of Vulcan."

Spock returned her salute, but did not reply. He merely nodded,

rather stiffly, even for Spock.

"You know my First Officer?"

"It is a rare person in or out of Starfleet that has not heard of Spock of Vulcan."

Again, Spock nodded. Again, he did not reply.

Kirk took her arm and gently led her toward the other officers stood. "May I present the rest of my staff. This is my Second Officer and Chief Engineer, Commander Montgomery Scott."

She greeted Scott in a harsh guttural language. Scotty seemed surprised, but answered her in the same tongue.

As though reading Kirk's mind, Aarayan said. "It's an ancient Celtic greeting, Sir. I've spent many a wonderful holiday in the Scottish Highlands."

"This is my senior Medical Officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy."

"Welcome to the Enterprise, Ma'am." McCoy said with a sweeping bow.

"Spoken like a true gentleman of the Old South, my good Doctor. Tennessee, isn't it?"

McCoy braced himself stiffly. "Madam, Ah hail from the great and sovereign state of Georgia!"

"My apologies, Kind Sir. I should have known by your truly regal manner that you could only have come from there."

"Quite all right, beautiful lady. It is a common mistake." He said taking her hand and delicately kissing the back.

Kirk cleared his throat loudly. "If you two are through with your meeting of the mutual admiration society, shall we begin our tour of the ship?" Kirk extended his arm and T'Anya took it. "Mr. Spock, You will accompany us."

"Begging the Captain's pardon, I have other duties to attend to." Without waiting for a reply, the Vulcan turned and left the room."

**********

Under Ambassador Kazh muttered unprintables as he slowly paced his office. He damned every god in the universe. It was unfair! Him! The pride of the Empire! The hero of Gentes! After all, he had done nothing wrong. It was his right to the Emperor's daughter. When the Emperor refused to give her to him, he took her. Because of that, He was stuck on this backward, gods-forsaken ball of mud on the outer fringes of the Empire. The Emperor couldn't kill him outright, he was much too popular with the people, so he did the next best thing. He promoted him and sent him here!

A glint came in his eyes. His latest plan would show all of those sniveling sons of targs that they were not dealing with some weakling. That he was indeed, someone to be reckoned with. When he handed the Emperor the whole planet on a silver platter, he would have no choice but to give him his daughter.

The door to his office opened and First Assistant Gleeber came in. He was a by-the-book bureaucrat. One of the New Breed of boot licking, peace loving Klingons that was gaining rapid favor with the ruling hierarchy. Gleeber had never had a thought that was not politically correct or an opinion that was not according to the prevailing norm. His only goal was to follow orders and please his superiors. Although he was in charge of the outpost, Kazh harbored no suspicions that he was Gleeber's true superior.

"Honored Lord." Assistant Gleeber said fawning. "There have been disturbing reports from the civilian authorities. The people of this planet seem to be on the verge of revolution. It could jeopardize our mission here. You should include that fact in your next report to the Home Office."

"Very well, Gleeber." Kazh said, feigning interest. "I shall include it in my next report."

That was the last thing he intended to do. Except for several well placed and highly trusted allies, none of whom were on this planet, no one knew of the plan that Kazh had worked out. Certainly not Gleeber.

**********

James Kirk turned off the vid screen and removed T'Anya's datadisc. As usual, Scuttlebutt was right. Except for mandatory cruises, T'Anya Aarayan had spent her entire career in administrative and teaching posts. She had graduated with Summa Cum Laude in her Starfleet Academy class, was the Valedictorian, had earned a Rhodes Scholarship, had several degrees from CalPoly, and a Masters of Technical Engineering from M.I.T. She had served on at least a dozen technical and advisory committees, taught Advanced Logistics at the Academy, and for the past three years had been the Chief of Strategic Planning for the Maritime Commission of Starbase 28.

She quickly and easily adapted to shipboard life. In the short time since the Enterprise left port, T'Anya learned and performed her duties as though she had been aboard ship forever. She also had made friends with most of the crew, talking with many of them in their native language. She had discussed Samurai philosophies with Sulu in perfect Japanese, politics with Chekov in flawless Russian, and at this moment was engaged in an animated conversation with Uhura in fluent Swahili.

Only Spock seemed to be immune to her charms. Kirk had hoped that with their common background, they would be able to get along smoothly. While Spock was not the type to form friendships easily, a good working relationship was necessary, especially since Aarayan's and Spock's duties were closely related. The exact opposite was true. The coolness Spock had shown when T'Anya came aboard had only intensified. In fact, on a number of occasions, it seemed that Spock actually went out of his way to find fault and criticize her. Especially in public.

Spock, at this moment, was bent over his computer terminal, apparently absorbed in the multitude of computations that filled the screen. Every few moments, though, he would glance disapprovingly at the Communications Station.

Peals of laughter rang out and T'Anya and Uhura dissolved in tears over something one of them had said.

Spock raised both eyebrows. "The bridge is a working area." He said loudly without taking his eyes from the vid screen. "The recreation rooms were designed for those who wish to be entertained."

T'Anya's answer was cut off by the helmsman.

"Vulcan Orbit, Sir." Lt. Cdr. Sulu said.

Kirk breathed a sigh if relief. "Saved by the bell." He thought. "Well, Mr. Spock, shall we go and try a little arm twisting on T'Lar?" He said aloud.

"I assure you, Captain, I have no intention of using force on a personage such as T'Lar." Spock said solemnly.

Kirk started to explain that it was only a figure of speech, but considering Spock's disposition the past few days, reconsidered. "Never mind. We shall prepare to beam down. Doctor

McCoy and Commander Aarayan will accompany us."

"Request permission to beam down alone, Sir. Given the delicate nature of this mission, I might be able to talk more freely with T'Lar if there were no outworlders present." He looked directly at

T'Anya.

"Very logical, Mr. Spock. Permission granted. You shall beam down alone."

Spock looked at the Captain for a long moment, as though trying to decide if he had been insulted or not, and then left the bridge.

One hour passed. Two hours. Three. Finally, the Transporter Operator notified Kirk that Spock was ready to beam up.

Spock was stepping off the platform as Kirk and Aarayan entered.

"Any luck?"

"Luck plays no part in it, Sir." Spock said flatly, even for him. "T'Lar is quite firm in her refusal to release the Vulcan Chronicles. She maintains, as she has always maintained, that they are an integral part of Vulcan history, and as the High Priestess, as well as the Head of the Vulcan Council, it is her duty to the Vulcan people to keep the Chronicles on Vulcan. I used every bit of logic at my command to try and persuade her otherwise, but to no avail. She is quite strong willed."

"Stubborn is a better word." Kirk thought.

"Perhaps I might have better results." T'Anya Aarayan said. "After all, I do have more expertise in the field of diplomacy than Mr. Spock. I feel that my aunt will be able ..."

She was interrupted in mid sentence by Mr. Spock. "Commander Aarayan! It is illogical to assume that you can do any better than I have done. While you might have more experience in diplomacy, than I do, you have spent your entire life on Earth. You do not understand the Vulcan ways. I do. I also doubt that your aunt, whoever she may be, could help you in this matter." The veins in Spock's neck were bulging, a sure sign that the Vulcan was very upset. He turned sharply and stalked out of the Transporter room.

"Captain, I believe it's worth a try." T'Anya said as they entered the Turbolift. "I know how much those documents mean to the Historical Society. When you need to get exact information, there is nothing like the real thing." There seemed to be a look of hurt in her eyes.

"Although he put it rather bluntly, I believe Spock is right." Kirk said. "There's an old Earth saying. 'No use beating a dead horse'. I think it applies here. The Society will just have to make do with what it already has."

"We could always steal them."

"Commander!"

"Just joking, Sir."

T'Anya exited at deck 4, where her quarters were, and Kirk continued to the bridge.

"Mr. Chekov, give us a course for Sector G."

Chekov's fingers raced over his keypads. "Course plotted." He tapped a few more pads. "And laid in, Keptin."

"Very good. Mr. Sulu, Take the Enterprise out of orbit."

"Negative, Sir. Sensors indicate that one of the Transporters has just been activated." Sulu said.

Kirk punched a button on his console chair. "Transporter Room! What is going on down there! We were about to leave orbit."

"Yeoman Thimpson, Sir." The voice was groggy. "Commander Aarayan beamed herself down to the planet surface. She gave me a neck pinch when I refused to do it for her."

"She wouldn't dare." He said, remembering their conversation in the turbolift. "Mr. Spock. Come with me. I'll explain on the way." He called as he headed for the turbolift.

**********

Kirk and Spock materialized in front of the Vulcan Archives and hurried inside. T'Anya Aarayan was seated at a table with the Chronicles spread in front of her. Spock reached her first and grabbed her roughly, pulling her to her feet. "Commander T'Anya Aarayan, In consideration of the evidence here, and of your statements earlier to Captain Kirk, I am placing you under arrest for the attempted theft of the Vulcan Chronicles."

Kirk, by this time, had caught up with them, "Commander, what possessed you to even attempt such a foolhardy stunt. Surely you didn't think that you could get away with it. Did you?"

Just then, T'Lar came up to them. She offered the Vulcan salute to Kirk. "May you live long and prosper, James T. Kirk. It is good to see you once again Spock."

"May you also live long and prosper, T'Lar." Kirk returned the salute. "I offer a thousand apologies for the intrusion, but we have reason to believe that Commander Aarayan, here, was attempting to steal the Vulcan Chronicles."

"Steal them! You are quite mistaken, James T. Kirk. T'Anya Aarayan has my permission to be here."

"I do not understand." Spock said. "I have just spent three hours, twenty seven minutes, and thirteen seconds, standard, in an attempt to convince you to release the Chronicles to me to take to the Historical Society. You were most adamant in your refusal, yet after only five minutes, twenty seconds, standard, you release them to her." There was strong emphasis on the HER.

"You attempted to persuade me to release the Chronicles to you and I refused. In that you are correct. My niece, on the other hand suggested that representatives of the Historical Society come to Vulcan to study the Chronicles. I have no objection to that. In fact, I had just finished contacting them when you came here."

"Your NIECE!!" Spock and Kirk said almost in unison. Spock released his grip on T'Anya.

"I tried to tell you in the Transporter room, but I wasn't allowed to finish my sentence. My mother is T'Nan, sister to T'Lar."

"T'Nan and her family choose to live on Earth." T'Lar said. "We have remained very close. I am very fond of T'Anya and I am pleased that she is in such capable hands as yours. Now, if you would care to accompany me, I have some refreshments in my office. We can wait there for the reply from the Historical Society."

**********

Spock leaned slowly back in the chair and gazed at the star patterns through the transparent dome of the Observation Lounge. In a sense, he liked to think of this particular area of the ship as his own private domain. Most of the crew preferred to spend their off duty hours in the recreation rooms or other public areas of the ship.

Normally, Spock preferred to spend his off duty time alone in his quarters, meditating, reading, or playing chess with the ship's computer. When he was upset, though he came here. In this subdued area, lit only by the light from innumerable stars, it was very peaceful and serene, the better to meditate and put things into proper perspective.

His meditation was interrupted as T'Anya Aarayan entered the room. She was wearing a g'arn, a sheer Vulcan caftan that changed colors according to the wearer's mood. At the moment, the g'arn was a soft, pale blue.

"There is someone already using this room." Spock said without turning. "I wish my privacy."

T'Anya did not answer him, but walked until she stood in front of Spock, with her back to him. In the half light of the stars, she seemed almost to float. "This room seems to have a calming effect on me." She said. "Looking out at the universe and its vastness makes me realize just how small and insignificant my everyday problems really are."

"I wish my privacy." Spock swung around, his back to hers.

"I can't understand why more people don't use this room. It is so beautiful." T'Anya continued as if she did not hear him.

"Commander Aarayan." Spock said, swiveling the chair to face her. "I said I wish my solitude. Please leave at once."

She turned to face him. "Mr. Spock. From the moment I beamed aboard the Enterprise, I sensed a certain coolness toward me on your part. Lately, though, it has become definite and open hostility." The g'arn had flecks of yellow in it.

"I treat you no different than I do any other member of the crew." Spock turned away from her once again.

"Oh, but you do, Mr. Spock. With the others, you are at the worst, indifferent. With me, it seems that you go out of your way to criticize me and find fault. It's as though you considered me as some sort of a threat to you. I assure you, I am not." The g'arn was a bright orange. "On second thought, I do not threaten you as much as I frighten you."

"My courage has been proven in countless crisis situations." Spock had both eyebrows arched and what could have passed for a sneer on his lips. "I have no reason to fear you."

"Not that kind of fear, Spock." T'Anya swung his chair so that he was facing her. "Until I came aboard, you were unique. The only Vulcan-Human here. There was no one that you had to compete with. Now there is! Me. You are afraid that the others will find out that just because a person is half Vulcan doesn't mean that they have to be an emotionless walking computer. You are afraid that they will find out that you are less than perfect. They may even find out that you have faults and shortcomings just like everybody else. And that scares you ... pardon the pun ... green."

Spock's eyebrows furrowed and he pressed his fingertips tightly together. Slowly, he drew a deep breath.

T'Anya continued. "And what frightens you the most is that I have done something that you have been unable or unwilling to do. I have made friends. Not just acquaintances, but people I can relate to. I think you may even be jealous." The g'arn was a deep fiery crimson.

"Jealousy is an emotion. Vulcans do not feel emotion. I am Vulcan." He was on his feet, facing her squarely. "I do not feel emotion."

"Don't give me that line of bilge barf. You are also half Human, Spock. Humans do feel emotion. You have controlled ... no, suppressed is a better word ... your emotions for so long that you will not, you cannot, permit yourself to feel them."

"Vulcan logic and Human emotion are incompatible. They cannot co-exist." The veins in his neck were bulging.

"I am every bit as Vulcan as you are. And every bit as Human. I do not find logic and emotion the least bit incompatible."

"Your argument is illogical. You were raised on Earth and have learned the Terran ways. I am Vulcan. I know the Vulcan way." He pressed his hands even tighter and closed his eyes. "Control. Control." He whispered inaudibly. "Please reserve your emotional displays for your Human friends. They have no effect on me." He said aloud, almost a shout.

T'Anya ignored him. "You obviously do not deny your Vulcan self. In fact, you seem to be proud of it. At the same time, you deny your Human half, as though you are ashamed of it. You cannot deny the right side of your body and only acknowledge that the left side exists. It takes both sides, left and right, to make a person. Logically, it takes both sides ... Vulcan and Human ... to make the person known as Spock." She stood directly in front of him. "Tell me, Spock. Do you hate women? Women Officers? Or just half Vulcan Woman Officers who have succeeded where you think you have failed?" The g'arn was a blackish purple.

"That is enough!" Spock shouted. He raised his hand and was about to bring it down on her neck, his fingers positioned for a Vulcan nerve pinch.

She grabbed his arm before it reached her. "What are you feeling, Spock? Hate? Anger? Frustration? These are emotions. There is nothing wrong with that. They are very normal. Just as there is nothing wrong with any other emotion. Joy. Happiness. Sorrow. Love. They are all emotions. You felt anger. You can feel the rest. There is nothing wrong with showing them, either. Like this ..." She placed her hands gently on the sides of his face and slowly drew him toward her. Softly, she pressed her lips to his.

Spock's head was swimming. Her g'arn was a brilliant blue-violet, the same color as her eyes. "Wrong?" He said hesitantly. "No ... nothing ... wrong ... at all." He took her in his arms and kissed her again. His mind and body reeled as feelings and sensations that had been long forgotten or never felt came flooding into him. His heart was pounding. "Teach me to be Human, T'Anya." He whispered softly, holding her close.

Just then, the klaxon signaling change of shift sounded. Instantly, there was a change in Spock. He straightened his uniform stiffly. "If you will excuse me, Commander, I am on duty." He said unemotionally as he headed toward the door.

**********

When Spock reached the bridge, the other officers of the watch were already in place. James Kirk was swinging the com chair slowly back and forth. "Well, Commander Spock. How nice of you to show up to relieve me." He said in mock reprimand. "I have a bottle of vintage Alethian wine in my room that is getting warm, and a real Earth steak that is getting cold."

"My apologies, Captain. I was ... ah ... unavoidably detained. I shall put myself ... on report."

"I was being facetious, Spock. However, I do have a bottle of wine and a steak waiting for me. Oh, by the way, when your watch is over, I want to see you and Cdr. Aarayan in my quarters. Something has to be done about the situation between the two of you."

"I ... don't think ... that will be ... necessary, ... ah ... Captain. T'Anya ... Cdr. Aarayan, that is ... and I have had a ... long talk. I believe ... that we can ... ah ... function ... compatibly." Spock's face seemed to be flushed and Kirk had never known his First Officer to be at a loss for words.

"That must have been some talk to have Spock stammering like that." Kirk mused to Commander Scott as they rode the turbolift. "We will see how well they can ... ah ... function ... er ... compatibly." He chuckled.

**********

T'Anya had just finished the sonic shower when the door buzzer sounded. While a sonic shower did get one clean, there was no comparison to a real soap-and-water bath. There was something almost sinfully decadent about being immersed in water as deep as possible and as hot as a person could comfortably stand. The thought of it recalled the fragrant smell of steamy mounds of soapy white lather all over her body. Of course, water rather was limited on a starship and bathing purposes was very low on the list of priorities. Perhaps she could get used to it in time, but ...

The buzzer sounded again. She stepped out of the shower and slipped into a silken robe. "Enter." She said, and the door slid open.

Spock entered and stood stiffly in the middle of the room. "I wish to apologize for my actions earlier. I behaved in a very illogical manner."

"No, Spock. I was wrong. I baited you and egged you on. If anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it should be me. And I do. Please forgive my actions."

"There is no need for that. Many of the things you said are true. I did criticize you unnecessarily. And I am envious of the ease with which you are able to establish relationships with the crew. You were right. I suppose, in a way, that I was jealous. I let that influence my actions toward you. My knowledge of Human emotion as it applies to myself is very limited. I think I would like to learn more about the subject. Could you ... would you help me?"

"I often wish that I could have studied more on Vulcan. Not just book learning, I have that. I mean more about the personal side. While my mother and my aunt taught me much about my Vulcan heritage, I feel that there is so much more that I could learn."

"I do not see where that would be a problem. It will be difficult for both of us, but if you are willing to teach me to be more Human, I will teach you to be more Vulcan."

**********

The door opened and T'Anya Aarayan entered. "You wished to see me, Doctor?"

"Yes, Commander." McCoy said, not looking up from the stack of datapads on his desk. He pointed to one of the examining tables. "Put on that gown and get up on the table. I'll be with you in a minute."

"Anything wrong?"

"Nope."

"Then why the exam?"

"Routine. Every crew member gets one after they've had time to adjust to life in space."

"But I had a thorough medical examination about a month before I left Starbase 28. According to that, I am in perfect health."

"No doubt. But I just want to see for myself." He took out a mediscanner and calibrated it. "This won't hurt a bit. I promise."

He passed the scanner over her chest. "Put it down to not-so-professional curiosity, but there are some things about you that have been bugging me. For instance, why would you want to go into deep space in the first place? Take a deep breath and hold it."

T'Anya took a breath.

"It doesn't make much sense to me that someone would chuck a brilliant career like the one you had for something that is totally foreign." He said, running the scanner over her abdomen. "Good. Exhale and take another breath."

"It seems from your file, that you had the kind of position that would provide more than enough challenge, even for a Vulcan like yourself. Say Aaah"

"Aaaaagh."

He examined her mouth and throat. "Certainly there were plenty of rewards. Your file lists two pages of awards and commendations. So, why start over?"

Several seconds passed and there were no more questions. Finally T'Anya asked. "Are you finished."

"Yup." McCoy was busily examining the readouts from the mediscanner. "You can get dressed now." He gestured toward the screened off area.

"Good. Now maybe I can answer your questions." She said as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"I wanted to go into deep space for the very reasons you mentioned. While my job on Starbase 28 was challenging and extremely rewarding, it was far from satisfying. Maybe it was part of the legacy from my father, but I was never content to just plan and organize expeditions and then read about the things that others had seen and done. I longed to see and do for myself.

I applied for space duty every chance I got, but my requests were ... always very politely and very apologetically ... denied. I was, Quote - a key person and could not be spared at this particular time. - Unquote.

When Lieutenant Pollard got sick and they needed a last minute replacement, I saw my chance. It was literally now or never. I didn't wait to go through channels. I just walked into the personnel office and volunteered. I don't know whether it was because they were pressed for time, or they couldn't come up with an acceptable excuse on such short notice, but they approved my transfer. And, voila ... here I am."

"Well, now that ... voila ... you are here, is space duty all that you thought it would be?"

"And then some. It's as though this is where I was born to be. If I had my way, I'd never leave."

"I know the feeling. Ninety nine and forty four percent of the crew feel the same way. If they didn't, they wouldn't be here in the first place. Well, you're fit as a fiddle and rarin' to go."

"What?"

"It is my considered opinion that you are mentally, physically, and emotionally suited for starship duty."

"Why didn't you say that in the first place."

"I thought I had. Something still puzzles me, though. You instinctively know what each crew member likes and are able to relate to it. By the way, thanks for the Julep recipe. It was delicious. And that's exactly what I mean."

"I wouldn't call it instinct. I know that starship crews are an entity unto themselves, and that it is often difficult for them to accept newcomers. So, I did a little homework with the help of the ship's computer. I thought it would make it easier all around. By the way, you are welcome for the recipe. It was given to me by a friend who just happens to be the chief bartender at Churchill Downs."

"I think I can say that, with possibly one exception, you have succeeded in putting everyone at ease around you. Most of the crew thinks you are the greatest thing to hit this ship since freeze dried French fries."

"By that one exception, I take it you mean Mr. Spock. We have reached somewhat of an agreement. I think that, in time, he will come to accept me. At least, that is what I hope."

"And now, Commander, one last question. Strictly personal and relevant to absolutely nothing at all. Are you free tonight, and will you do this simple country doctor the honor of having dinner with him."

"That, my dear simple country doctor, is two questions. Yes, I am free, and yes, I would be honored to have dinner with you. On one condition. That you call me T'Anya."

"Only if you'll call me Leonard."

**********

Kirk flipped off the recorder, removed the datadisc and put it in a dispatch envelope for transmission to Starfleet with all the other reports that were transmitted every day. He put another datadisc in the recorder.

His stomach told him it was half past dinner time. He removed the datadisk and put it in his personal safe.

The mess hall was nearly empty by the time he got there. In a half hidden corner, Spock and T'Anya were almost finished with their meal. They were together frequently. On duty, their skills and abilities were beginning to mesh and compliment each other's beautifully.

On this occasion, they were absorbed in conversation and did not notice anyone else in the room.

Spock finished the last of his salad. "Shall we go to the Observation lounge? I have come to look forward to our time there."

"I know it has not been easy for you, but you are making great progress. I have a very difficult time grasping some parts of the disciplines, but if we both keep at it, we'll make it." T'Anya

rose and took the plates to the disposer. "Would you like some dessert?"

"I have consumed my nutritional requirements for this meal."

T'Anya sighed audibly. "There you go again. Logical. Desserts are for fun, not for nutrition." She went to the synthesizer and pushed a few buttons. Out came two banana splits.

He took a spoonful and ate it.

"No, No, No, Spock." T'Anya shook her head. "Don't just eat it. Enjoy it. Caress it with your tongue. Close your eyes and let it melt down the back of your throat. Savor every last little bit."

Spock did as T'anya had suggested.

"See what I mean?" She said.

"I am not sure. Let me try again." He took another spoonful, tilted his head and closed his eyes. "Yes! I see ! It is delightful. I see!" He took another. And another.

"Slowly. Go slowly. Squeeze every delicious moment out of every single bite."

Spock lingered over the next spoonful.

"Spock! Look at you. You're smiling. Actually smiling. That's wonderful!"

Just then, Spock noticed the Captain at another table. Immediately the smile vanished from his face and he assumed his usual emotionless expression. He finished the sundae without further incident.

**********

"Nno. Tthhiss Onne ccannnnott ddo wwhhatt you asskk. Itt wwuolldd nnott bbe pprropperr." C'oLLo'Rg said.

"Pleathe, Charlie?"

Ple - e - a - s - s - e ???"

Matt Jeffries recognized the voices coming from the dayroom as belonging to Joanella Taylor, 7, and her 4 year old brother, Jasper. They were the children of staff members Leon and Anna

Taylor. Joanella's lisp was the result of two missing front baby teeth. As he entered the room, the two were tugging on to C'oLLo'Rg's arm fronds.

"What is going on here?" He shouted.

Embarrassed, the children dropped C'oLLo'Rg's fronds. Joanella hung her head and took two steps backward. Jasper hid behind his sister, his thumb instinctively sought the solace of his mouth.

"We wants a Christmas tree and we ain't gots one and Mommy says to use what we gots." Jasper said timidly.

"And all we got'th ith Charlie." Joanella added.

"You two should be ashamed of yourselves. Charlie is an intelligent being, not a houseplant." Matt said angrily. "How would you like it if someone wanted to put tinsel in your hair and string lights and ornaments all over your body? I want you to apologize to Charlie. Now!"

"But .. we .. didn't .." Tears welled in Joanella's eyes and her lower lip trembled. "We're thorry, Charlie. We didn't mean to hurt your feelingth."

Jasper wrapped his arms around C'oLLo'Rg's trunk. "We won't never do it ever again. We promise. We love you."

"Wwellll, Tthhiss Onne ssuppppossess tthhatt Tthhiss Onne ccoulldd ttollerratte ann orrnnammenntt orr ttwwo. Inn hhonnorr off tthhe sseassonn."

"Awright! C'mon, Jathper, Let'th get the boxth of decorationth." Joanella lisped, dragging her hapless brother toward the door.

Jasper stopped at the doorway and peered intently around the opening.

"Jathper!" Joanella said, her fists planted angrily on her hips. "Now what thilly thing are you doing!"

"Looking for Christmas. Daddy said it was right around the corner."

A final tug and Jasper reluctantly followed his sister to get the decorations.

C'oLLo'Rg gave a low whistling sigh. "Tthhe tthhinnggss tthhatt Tthhiss Onne ennddurres fforr tthhe ssakke off sseeddllinnggss."

If Matt had not known that it was physically impossible, he would have sworn that C'ollo'rg was smiling.

**********

It was the Holiday Season, or what would have been the Holiday Season had they been on Earth. Even here, many light years into deep space, the crew was in a very festive mood. Even Spock seemed to be in the spirit of things. He was definitely mellowed, and he even was rumored to smilein public every so often. Kirk suspected that T'Anya Aarayan was behind the changes. They spent every available hour together, either in the Observation Lounge or at the ship's library computer.

The crew had decorated Recreation Room C in a holiday manner. There was a menorah, driedels, sheaves of wheat, and a real honest-to-goodness tree, gotten from who-knows-where, decorated with a myriad of ornaments and spare computer lights. Several tables fairly groaned with all manner of foods and sweets. Christmas and Hanukkah music played over the intercoms. Every off duty crew member was there celebrating.

Scott and McCoy were at the refreshment table. Scotty had just finished pouring the dubious looking contents of a large green bottle into one of the punch bowls. "There. Now tha's a drink fittin' fer th' occasion!" He declared. He ladled two glassfuls and handed one to McCoy. "T' y'r health." He said draining his glass.

"Cheers!" McCoy answered, taking a healthy swallow. His eyes bulged and his face turned brilliant scarlet. He clutched at his throat. "Wha ... What's in tha ... that ..." He croaked between gasps for air, his voice at least an octave higher than normal. "You ... could use it ... to cle ... clean the warp ... eng ... engines."

"Doctor! I'm surprised! I tho't ya' could hold y'er liquor better tha' that.' Scotty said. "Tha's the finest engine room hooch in th' fleet. It's a secret recipe handed down from me gran'da. Oh! Yeoman Thimpson! Come here. I wan' ye to have a wee nip of a bonnie good drink."

Still coughing, McCoy watched as Scotty led the hapless crew man toward the punch bowls. He went over to where Spock, T'Anya and Uhura were talking.

"Well, Spock, old boy, I see that you've decided to grace our merry little gathering with your presence."

"Frankly, Doctor, I fail to see how you can take the anniversary of the moral victory of a lamp burning for eight days for a few bedraggled refugees; The birth of one of your religious leaders; As well as a harvest remembrance, and use them as an excuse to drink and eat too much and in general make fools of yourselves, and call it making merry." He was looking at Scotty and the choking Thimpson.

"Why you pointy-eared refugee from Santa's elves. This IS making merry. We do this to show each other that we love each other and that we care about each other. I don't know why I bother. I'd have more luck trying to explain it to that tree over there." He turned to T'Anya and Uhura. "Would either of you two lovely ladies care for a drink. I must warn you, though. Beware of the middle punch bowl. Scott has spiked it with moonshine. Personally, I think he filtered it through his socks. Either that, or he had help from Pitkis."

"Who or what is a Pitkis?" T'Anya asked.

"One of the new crew members. He came aboard with you at Starbase 28."

"Oh, yes, now I remember him. He has a reputation as sort of a foul-up."

"That's the one."

Just then, a waltz came over the intercom. "May I have the honor of this dance, Beautiful Lady?" McCoy said making a low bow to T'Anya.

"I'd be honored, Kind Sir." She said, curtsying.

Spock turned to Uhura. "May I have this dance?"

"Why, of course, Mr. Spock." Uhura said, startled.

Bit by bit, all activity in the room came to a stop as everyone watched Spock and Uhura glide across the floor.

"Mr. Spock! I didn't know that you were such a good dancer."

"Why does that surprise you, Miss Uhura. After all, dancing is only the logical movement to music."

**********

Jim Kirk looked with dismay at the dress uniform jacket that hung on the hook in front of him. It seemed that during the course of the evening, someone had bumped into him and spilled the last plate of Mercutial Silchak down the front of his uniform. Not only was Mercutial Silchak one of the finest delicacies in the universe, but the sauce leaves a virtually indelible stain.

The door buzzer sounded and a crew man entered, dragging a large crate-like object after him. "Excuse me, Sir. I am afraid that I am the one responsible for the stains on your uniform." He poured a generous amount of a pungent liquid from a jug into the machine. "Never fear, Sir. I'll have the stain out in no time flat." He put the uniform in and turned the machine on. It rattled and clanked loudly. "It's a refinement on an ancient Earth process called dry cleaning, Sir. I developed it myself. It's ten times better than sonic cleaning. Guaranteed."

"Well, I'm always happy to encourage any of the crew members who show initiative. What's your name, son?"

"Pitkis, Sir. Crewman Apprentice Eugene Pitkis. And I'm not exactly a rookie, Sir. I've been in Starfleet nearly eight years now."

"Eight years and still an Apprentice?"

"Well, I did make Engineer Third on Starbase 28. But, you see, I was working on this compound at the time. It would have increased the capacity of the warp engines by at least a third. Only it was kind of unstable so I had it in a thermos. Well, there was this Lieutenant ... Pollard, I think his name was ... Anyway, he must have thought it was coffee, and ... he ...

The doctors said he wasn't critical and that he would be able to return to duty in three or four weeks. The Court Martial board gave me the choice. Hard labor or the next Starship out." The machine stopped clanking. Pitkis opened it, took out the jacket and held it up. "See, Sir. No more stain. Just like I said."

He was right. There was no more stain on the jacket. But where the stain had been, there was no cloth, either.

Pitkis edged toward the door. "I guess I haven't got all the bugs out of it yet, Sir." It slid open and he backed into the hall. "I'll gladly replace the uniform, Sir." He broke into a run with Kirk in hot pursuit. "It's the least I can do, Sir." Just as Jim was about to reach him, Pitkis ran into an open turbolift. "Happy Holidays, Sir." The door slid closed.

Captain James T. Kirk stood in the hall leaning against the bulkhead for a long time, periodically muttering something about a Three hundred Credit Dress Uniform. A sack. An Emergency Flush Port. And a certain Crewman Apprentice.

**********

Spock and T'Anya walked slowly through the nearly deserted hall toward her quarters.

"I'm glad you asked me to go with you to the party." Spock said. "Usually I do not attend purely social functions. I never feel completely comfortable in that sort of a situation. I do feel that tonight went especially well, though."

"I think so, too, but you could have been a little more cordial toward Doctor McCoy."

"You do not understand the relationship between the doctor and myself. To spite appearances, we do have a great deal of respect and admiration for each other. Our seeming jabs and insults are, in a sense, our way of showing our friendship."

"Strange, although he did not put it quite that way, Leonard said almost the same thing."

"Leonard?" Both eyebrows went up.

"Yes, that's what he prefers that I call him socially. Does it bother you that I am seeing him?"

"No ... No. It doesn't bother me. It's not like we are bonded or anything. We are just friends, after all. What you do on your own time is your business." He said coolly.

They reached T'Anya's quarters. "Come in for a moment. I have something for you." T'Anya said, taking his hand.

Like Spock's, T'Anya's rooms were spartan and utilitarian, but the walls were covered with holopics of family, friends, and Earth scenes. On her desk was a holopic of Spock. She took a large box off her desk and handed it to Spock. "I hope it fits. It was the only one they had. I bought it when we stopped off at Calverni. I guess they don't get many Vulcans way out here."

Spock looked at the package for a few moments and then set it down and turned and left the room.

"Aren't you even going to open it?" T'Anya said, a touch of hurt in her voice.

He returned a few minutes later with a small box wrapped in bright paper. "Here." He said handing it to her. " Happy Holidays, T'Anya."

She hurriedly unwrapped it. "Spock!. It's perfect!" She said, holding up a small ornate bottle. "Almarian Mist. My favorite scent. I love it. You really do understand the meaning of the season." She said, wiping a tear from her eyes.

"Females, why must you always cry. Of course I understand. Isn't that what you have been trying to teach me all these weeks?"

"Yes, I guess it is. Now will you open your present before I burst."

It was a g'ell, the male version of the g'arn. Spock took off his uniform jacket and put on the g'ell. It immediately turned a soft baby blue.

"There is so much more that I have to learn about being Human. Even though you said that I did well, I feel that I could have done better." He said softly.

"You picked up on dancing fast enough. You and Uhura were the talk of the party."

"Only because I couldn't dance with you. I did notice that you managed to dance with every other male crew member that was there."

Soft music was still playing over the intercom. Spock made a very low bow. "There is no one here now except you and I. May I have the honor of this dance, Beautiful Lady."

Why, Mr. Spock, I do believe you are jealous."

He took her in his arms. "Jealousy is an emotion." He kissed her. "I do not feel emotion." He kissed her again. "Remember?" He kissed her once more and at the same time his hand reached for the Autolock switch on the door.

The g'ell was a shimmering violet.

**********

Kazh threw down the stack of report datapads. The gods damn these people. Why was the plan taking so long? The planetary government should have been groveling at his feet by now, and the Earthers across the square should be blithering idiots. Of course, in Kazh's mind, all Earthers were blithering idiots anyway. Instead, there was only widespread disruption of the peace, and the diplomatic personnel were merely crabbing at each other. Bad, but not bad enough to cause anarchy. It had to be their Klingon genes that made these people so resistant, and it was probably all the equipment that was secreted in the Federation outpost that shielded them.

Only one thing to do. Intensify the attack. Of course, the energy fields that were installed around the outpost to protect the Klingon delegation would have to be increased, too. That was dangerous. It was possible that the Federation outpost would notice the difference in intensity of the fields and start asking questions. No matter, this was worth the risk. Because of the nature of the project, Kazh would have to do that part himself. Fortunately, Kazh was knowledgeable in this matter. He had to be, because of the manner in which he 'rewarded' the technician who installed the fields in the first place. After all, it was a high honor to die serving the Empire, wasn't it? Kazh smiled and returned to the datapads.

Gleeber came into the office. He had the annoying habit of always showing up at the wrong time. "Honored Lord." He said in his fawning manner. "A report from the Home Office. I thought you might be interested. A Bird Of Prey, the Qej nuvMach, will be here in ten stardays for a routine call. The Captain is Kommander Kor."

That was another of Gleeber's annoying habits. Reading all of the incoming dispatches, whether they were personal or official. Of course, if Kazh were in Gleeber's place, he would have done the same thing, but did Gleeber have to be so ostentatious about it. Kazh growled a minor epithet under his breath. Gleeber smiled that hollow smile of his.

"Thank you, Gleeber, that will be all."

Gleeber bowed his head perfunctorily and left the room, still grinning.

Inwardly, Kazh let out a sigh of relief. A Bird Of Prey. And the Qej nuvMach. And commanded by Kor. There was justice in the universe. He and Kor went back a long time. Kor's feelings toward the new government and Kazh's were the same. The gods were with him on this mission.

**********

"Computer: strike that last remark."

"Remark stricken." The computer said in its silky feminine voice.

In the months since the Enterprise left Starbase 28, there had been nothing but routine. Dull. Boring. Routine. Except for the brief shore leave on Calverni, the crew had been confined to the ship the entire time. Kirk both liked and hated this sort of duty. He liked it because it gave him the chance to unwind and renew himself. After a while, though, Caftarr, that 'idontgiveadamn' feeling set in.

He was on his way to the bridge for another in what seemed like an endless cycle of watches.

The turbolift stopped and McCoy entered. "How goes it, Jim, still holding down the fort?"

"All secure Bones, as usual. I'm on my way to the bridge for my watch. If you're in a hurry, maybe you'd better wait for another turbo."

"It doesn't matter. I appreciate the company. I'm only on my way to inventory the sickbay supplies. Again."

"How many times have you inventoried sickbay already?"

"Lesee, I inventoried it on 7610.18, and again on 7611.14, and on 7612.16 and 7701.22 and now today. Counts are always the same. Do you think that maybe someday, somebody could get sick? Even the common cold would be welcome. It certainly would break the monotony."

"I know what you mean." Kirk held up the dispatch envelope. "These are the log entries for today. Which are essentially the same as the log entries for yesterday. Which are essentially the same as the log entries for the past two weeks. Which are essentially ... Well, you get the point. I'm seriously thinking about having the computer just duplicate the logs. It'll save me the trouble of dictating them."

"I am a little worried about Spock, though." McCoy said with a mock furrowing of his brow. "Ever since the Holiday party, he has been acting very strangely. For instance, yesterday, I told him I was going to graft a tricorder antenna to his skull. Just to get a rise out of him. You know what his reply was? 'Good idea, Doctor'."

"So?"

"Come on, Jim. Spock passing up a juicy tidbit like that? Something's wrong. Maybe he's sick. I think I'll prepare a double dose of Neodrexaline."

"He could be in love."

"Spock? In Love?" The doctor pondered the thought for a few seconds. "Naah! I'll keep the Neodrexaline handy. Just in case."

The turbolift stopped and Kirk exited at the bridge.

That's when it happened.

The Red Alert claxon sounded. For a fraction of a second, everyone was startled.

"Security alert in Recreation Room B on Level Three." An excited voice came over the intercom. "Security team on the way to investigate."

**********

Kirk reached Level Three at about the same time as the security team. Inside the room, they could hear the sounds of angry voices and glass breaking, punctuated by the flat sounds of fists hitting flesh.

"Phasers on stun, gentlemen." Kirk said. "Let's go."

He was prepared for trouble, but not what he saw. It was pandemonium. Tables, chairs, and other furniture was overturned and scattered all over the room. Everybody was fighting everybody. At the same time.

He ducked as a vase crashed against the wall behind him. Two pairs of hands roughly grabbed him and threw him to the floor. A foot to the ribs slid him across the floor. He rolled over as a body came flying through the air and landed where he had been. He half rose, and planted his fist solidly in the nearest stomach. The crewman folded like a sack of grain. He looked up just in time to see one of the security team hurtled through the only unbroken cabinet door in the room. A fist caught him squarely in the face. He returned the punch and sent the man staggering into another, who was coming toward him.

There was abrupt silence and everyone froze in their tracks as the whine of a sonic rifle pierced the air and a luminescent panel in the ceiling exploded. Scotty stood in the doorway patting the butt of the rifle. "I thought ya might be needin' the likes of Ol' Betsy here."

Taking advantage of the situation, Kirk righted a chair and jumped on it. Two security guards, phasers at the ready quickly flanked him. "All right! Everybody down! Sit! On the double!" Slowly, order returned to the Recreation Room as the crew righted furniture and took their seats. "Thank you Mr. Scott. You and Ol' Betsy arrived in the nick of time. Now. Who is responsible for this ... this ... " He threw up his hands and shook his head.

A security team brought two men to him. "These are the ones we believe started the fighting." One of the guards said.

"And who are you? And why .. ?" Kirk swept the room with his hand.

"Warehouseman First Class Ian Bjorford, Sir. All I wanted was a beer. I asked Wozinski, here to get me one. Instead, he comes back with this green bilge cleaner. So I asks this dumb Pollock if he knows what a beer is .."

"Who you calling dumb, you stupid Swede?" Wozinski lunged at Bjorford as the guard restrained him.

"Name and rank, Crewman." Kirk demanded.

"Sorry Sir. Stoker Second Class Jeruwzele Wozinski. Like I was saying, I tried to tell this Norse Nerd that no matter what you punched in, all that dumb machine spit out was this green garbage. But all he kept hollering about was his precious beer."

"Why you Hunkey Jackass ... " Bjorford drew back his fist.

"You Viking Oaf ... " Wozinski lunged a second time and this time it took two guards to restrain him.

"Take them to the brig until they cool off."

The guards led the two men, still shouting to each other, out of the room.

Kirk motioned to Scott. "Take a look at that beverage synthesizer and see if you can find out what's going on. I want it repaired as soon as possible."

"That may not be the wisest thing to do at this time, Jim." McCoy said, coming into the room. "I've detected the beginnings if Caftarr in some of the crew members. A thing like this would allow them to vent their feelings on an inanimate object rather than on each other. Now, if you could leave that thing alone for about seventy two hours ..."

"Doctor! That is the most illogical thing I have ever heard." T'Anya Aarayan began. "On a starship, there has to be order and discipline. If the captain allows the crew to take out their petty frustrations whenever they wish, then logically, discipline will break down and anarchy will be the result."

"Logic! You sound exactly like Spock!"

"Why thank you, Doctor. That is the nicest thing you have said about me in a long time." Spock said. "Of course, Commander Aarayan is correct. Also, in this case, the crew took not only vented their frustrations on machines, but on each other as well."

McCoy threw up his hands. "Stereophonic logic, yet. I give up! I'm going to Sickbay. At least there, I have the final say so."

Just then, Scott came out from the synthesizer. "Well, I've got good news and I've got bad news. The good news is that the wee thing is runnin' again." A cheer went up from the few crew members who were still in the room. "The bad news is I dinna know for how long. I had to make repairs with sticky tape and bits o' wire. I canna' understand how it coulda broken down in the first place. It was inspected just yesterday an' everything was okay then."

"I want the person who made that inspection in my office, and I want him there five minutes ago. Is that understood? Dismissed."

**********

Kirk had just finished sorting out the reports of the 'wine incident' as the crew was now referring to the altercation. It wasn't good. Scotty had determined that the synthesizer was beyond repair and would have to be replaced. In addition to Bjorford and Wozinski, three other crewmen had been arrested. According to Dr. McCoy, five persons were injured seriously enough to require hospitalization. Sulu had a fractured wrist. Chief Yeoman Barker had a separated cartilage in his left knee, and crewmen Il Amar and Chiang both suffered internal injuries. Chiang was listed in serious condition. In addition, another 15, including Kirk, had been treated and released with lesser injuries.

The door to the Captain's office opened. Kirk buried his face in his hands. "Oh No. Not you. It can't be you. Please. Tell me that you were not the person who inspected the beverage synthesizer."

"Crewman Apprentice Eugene Pitkis reporting as ordered, Sir."

Kirk shoved the stack of datapads toward him. "Why?" He asked plaintively.

"Well, sir, it occurred to me as I was inspecting the synthesizer, that, with a little reworking, it could be made to produce some of the more exotic liquors, such as Earth Champagne or maybe even Altarian Sqoze. I thought that the crew might like a change from the beer, wine, and whiskey. I never meant for it to be like this, Sir."

Kirk was trying very hard to maintain his composure. He rubbed his cheek, which to spite treatment, was swollen and turning a sickening shade of purple. "Crewman Pitkis, do you realize that your little brainstorm nearly caused a full scale riot? Not to mention the fact that the beverage synthesizer was nearly destroyed and will have to be replaced when we reach the next stop? Or the fact that five of my crew are in the brig and five more are in the hospital? Or that a good portion of the crew look like they have been sparring partners for Triskalian Thralls?"

Pitkis swallowed hard. "I'm very sorry, Sir. What do you intend to do to me, Sir?"

"What I would like to do to you, Pitkis, unfortunately, is illegal. I can't reduce you in rank, you are already as low as you can go. If I confine you to the brig, I am fairly certain that the other prisoners would tear you limb from limb, which is probably what you deserve. Instead, I am going to be lenient with you. Why, I don't know.

Your sentence is as follows:

1. You are to be confined to your quarters during off duty hours for the next thirty stardays. Let's hope that by that time most of the crew will have forgotten about this 'wine incident' by then.

2. All privileges are to be revoked for the remainder of this cruise.

3. You will render any and all assistance necessary to the injured crewmen until they are able to resume normal duty.

4. You will personally clean up the mess in the Lounge and make any and all repairs necessary to put it back in the condition it was before this happened.

Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Pitkis said balefully.

"One more condition. Do not. I repeat. DO NOT. Under any circumstances, even think about performing any more unauthorized experiments or coming up with any inventions of any kind or description.

Now, get out of here before I change my mind and throttle you personally."

"Aye, Aye, Sir. Thank you Sir. You are most kind, Sir." Pitkis turned and walked into the door.

**********

Spock and T'Anya lay on the floor of Spock's room, his fingers gently caressing her shoulder. A faint wisp of Almarian Mist caught his attention. "How like her." He thought. "Subtle, yet with a hidden sense of power. Understated, but definitely sensual." Strange, he had never thought about perfumes in those terms before he met T'Anya. They had always been just a mixture of hydrocarbons and oils that had a pleasant smell.

There were numerous things that he had been noticing in a different manner since they had been working together. She had showed him the myriad complexities of a smile. She had taught him how to recognize the melodies in a laugh. She helped him to explore his inner self and to, partially at least, find who he really was.

**********

Earlier that day, they had been discussing frustrations and different ways to deal with them. T'Anya had advocated that violence was one of the ways to rid one's self of frustrations. Spock disagreed. "Remember the 'wine incident'? It certainly was violent, but it did not serve any useful purpose. Tensions, if anything were worse when it was over."

"That was uncontrolled violence. Here, let me show you what I mean." She picked up one of his pillows and threw it at him.

"What was that for?' He asked.

"No. No. That will never do." She said picking up the pillow and fluffed it. "Much too hard. Wait here, I'll be right back."

A few minutes later she returned with two huge pillows.

"What are those for? I've already got pillows."

"Not like these. I had them synthesized especially for the occasion. They're genuine imitation feather pillows." T'Anya caught him in the midriff with her pillow. "It's your turn." She said, tossing the other pillow to him. "Now you hit me."

He raised his pillow over his head and was about to bring it down on her when she raised her hands, forming a T. "Time out." She said. "I'm on duty in a little bit. I better remove my uniform. It wouldn't look right to go on the bridge all messed up." She removed her uniform and let it fall to the floor. "Now we're ready."

He raised his pillow again.

"Hold it!"

"Now what?"

"Strip down, too, or you'll have an unfair advantage."

"What?"

"You heard me, Mister. Shuck the togs!"

Spock took off his clothes and as he was removing his socks, T'Anya swung and caught him squarely across the rump. He fell forward in a heap.

"Defend yourself, you sniveling knave."

"Against what? Besides, you've had two shots at me and I haven't had the chance to get one against you. That is not fair."

"It isn't supposed to be fair, it's supposed to be fun. That's the whole idea, you stupid oaf." She swung at him again and hit him across the face.

"Oaf am I?" He caught her in the small of the back. "I'll show you." He swung again.

She blocked it with her arm. "There, don't you feel less frustrated?"

"No, just ridiculous."

"Good. That means you're learning."

He grabbed the pillow with both hands and swung again. She ducked and swung at him. They chased each other around the room, flailing at each other, and laughing like a pair of Thorian Loons until there was nothing left of the pillows but a few tattered shreds. Then they collapsed on the floor, entwined in each other's arms.

**********

He plucked a stray feather from her hair, studied it for a few moments, and then brushed it gently against her cheek. T'Anya stirred slightly and moaned softly. Her face felt warm and soft against his bare chest. He kissed her softly on the forehead. "Awaken, Sleeping Beauty." He whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Time to go forth and earn your pittance."

"Already?" She said, stretching and yawning. Slowly, she got to her feet.

"Afraid so. Change of watch in a few minutes." He took her outstretched hand and she jerked him to his feet.

"Oh, sure, I go and slave over some stupid vid screen all day while you loaf around here with nothing to do." She said, her fists on her hips. "How like a man."

"Nothing to do?" Spock retorted in mock anger. "What do you call this?" He pointed to the feather strewn room. "I've got to clean this mess before Bones has me carted off to the looney bin."

"Congratulations." She said as she pulled her uniform jacket on. "You are ready to make your debut."

"My what?"

"Your debut. When we are alone, you've been letting your humanity show more and more, but when there are others present, you still become the total Vulcan. It's time that you showed everyone else that you are Human, as well."

"With you, it easy, almost natural to be Human. You expect me to be Human. But with the others, it's different. They expect me to be Vulcan. I don't think they would understand and accept a Human Spock. "

"Don't sell your friends short. Despite the fact that Humans are illogical, irrational, and emotional, they have a tremendous capacity for understanding and acceptance."

"I had planned to talk to the Captain soon." Spock's tone became very serious. "This is not an easy thing to do. I have given this moment much thought and meditation. I know what I want to say, but I do not know the proper way to approach the subject. I have never had to deal with this subject before."

"Relax." T'Anya smiled. "Be yourself. People will respond. Especially the Captain and Dr. McCoy. Just remember they are your friends."

Spock took her hands. "No, T'Anya, that is not what I am talking about." He released her hands and turned away. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "If we were on Vulcan, it would be a simple matter. In essence, just a formality. Our parents would have negotiated the matter years ago, when we were but children. Then, at the proper time, at the proper place, and in the proper manner, ... we would ... we would be ..."

"Yes, Spock. My answer is yes."

"Answer? Yes?"

"You ARE trying to ask me to marry you. Aren't you?"

He took her in his arms. "Yes! Yes! That is exactly what I am trying to do. I am asking you to marry me!" He got down on one knee before her. "T'Anya Aarayan, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Spock of Vulcan. I will marry you."

He held her close and brushed the tears from her cheeks. He kissed her on the forehead. On the ear. On the cheek. On the neck. And finally on the lips. They held the embrace for several minutes, each basking in the moment. Finally, T'Anya slowly released her hold. "If I could, I'd hold on to this moment forever. I'd put it in a stasis box and preserve it until the end of time. Unfortunately, I don't have a box, so we'll have to hold it in our memories. Also, I've got to go to work. And you ..." She threw a corner of one of the tattered pillows at him. " ... Have housework to do. Start cleaning."

"Slave driver!" He called to her as the door opened.

"Henpecked." She said in a loud stage whisper as the door hissed shut behind her.

Spock threw the remains of a pillow at the door. He felt giddy. He felt frightened. At the same time. It felt delicious.

**********

Kazh put his feet on his desk and grinned broadly. He clasped his bony fingers and heaved a loud sigh. Things were going well. Very well indeed. He opened the secret compartment in his desk and took out a transmitter. Both the compartment and the transmitter were of the latest technology and were virtually undetectable by ordinary means. Kazh smiled. Even Gleeber had not found them.

He opened a channel on the transmitter. Kor answered his transmission. He, too had a similar setup on the Qej nuvMach. "How goes the situation on the planet?" Kor asked.

"Quite well, my friend." Kazh replied. "As you know, the situation has disintegrated rapidly since I made the adjustments. I believe the ruling body will soon be ready to consider any offer of help. Are you ready to do your part?"

"Of course. I have already sent several of my people who are of the same mind as you and I to the planet in a cloaked shuttle. They are disguised as natives. Their mission is to help stir things up. Of course, they have personal force generators on them to protect them. I also have opened a secure channel to some of our comrades at the High Council. They will witness the proceedings live and rebroadcast them to the entire Empire when we are ready to make our move. Then everyone will see how real warriors behave."

"What of your crew?"

"Except for a few very trusted officers, everyone thinks we are on a routine supply patrol. And you?"

"No one but myself knows what is going on. If I told anyone else, that sniveling little targ Gleeber would find out and I know he would report it. I think I have gotten my revenge on him, though. I have been sending him out into the city without any protection every day for extended periods, to gather information on the situation for what he believes is a report to the High Council. This is an assignment he was very eager to do. It suits his grubby little personality perfectly. Already, he is starting to have an adverse reaction. By the time we are ready to move, I don't think Gleeber will be much of a problem."

"Good. Kor out."

Kazh put the transmitter in its compartment and closed the door. The opening sealed itself and, to the naked eye, the desk was solid.

**********

Matt Jeffries stood in front of the window and watched the crowd that had gathered in the square. There was a speaker standing in front of a statue that stood on a grassy enclosure in the center, exhorting the people to violent action. There had been more and more demonstrations like this in the past few days. The climate bordered on revolution, but, unlike other revolutionary movements Matt had witnessed, this one had no clear cut cause. Instead, the speakers and the crowds seemed to advocate violence solely for violence sake. Even the authorities were caught up in the apparent madness. The police did nothing to prevent the criminal outbreaks, and on several occasions, actually joined in the demonstrations.

Suddenly a rock came crashing through the window. Matt dove for the floor to avoid the flying glass as the stone missed him by inches. It struck Starac, who also threw himself to the floor, narrowly missing knocking over C'oLLo'Rg's bed pot.

"Mmurrdderrerr, wwhhy ddo you nnott jjusstt ggo ahheadd and kkillll Tthhiss Onne ass wwellll." C'oLLo'Rg hissed at the Vulcan, wrapping his/her/its arm fronts tightly around his/her/its body

stalk.

"Murderer?" Starac said, bewildered. "I do not know what you are talking about. You know as well as I do that deliberately taking another's life is against every precept of Vulcan belief."

"You arre a ppllanntt eatterr, arre you nnott? You cconnssumme Tthhiss Oneness ssppecciess fforr nnuttrittionn, ddo you nnott? Wwill you bbe eattinng Tthhiss Onne nnexxt?" C'oLLo'Rg was shaking violently.

Starac reached for C'oLLo'Rg's head blossom. "And what am I supposed to do? Starve myself just because you claim that a piece of celery or some carrot stick is a relative of yours? Now who is trying to kill whom?"

"What do you two think you are doing?" Matt yelled. "Can't I leave you two alone for even a few minutes without you going for each other?"

"Oh, so now I'm at fault." Starac said, releasing his hold on C'oLLo'Rg. "I suppose I was the one who tried to uproot C'oLLo'Rg yesterday, just because he/she/it was casting a shadow across my desk? Besides, Mr. High and Mighty Matthew Peter Jeffries, who died and appointed you to be our parent?"

"You arre sso rrigghht Mmisstterr Ssttarracc. Mmatthheww, you arre nnot Tthhiss Onne'ss Sseeddggivverr. You ccannott ttell Tthhiss Onne wwhhatt tto ddo."

"Wait a minute, Listen to us. We are bickering just like a bunch of Klingons."

"Not exactly, Matthew." Starac answered, regaining his stoic composure. "It seems, from what our informants tell me, that the Klingons appear to be singularly unaffected by whatever is going on. In fact, they seem to be extraordinarily calm in the face of this crisis. As far as the Klinzai Educational and Cultural Exchange is concerned, it is - how do you say it - trading continues."

"Tthhiss Onne bbellievvess tthhatt wwhhatt Ssttarracc iss ttrryinngg tto ssay iss bbussinnnnessss ass ussuall."

"That's odd. Given the Klingon propensity for fighting, I would have thought that they would have been right in the thick of things, but you are right, the Klingon delegation has been conspicuously absent." Matt said. "Be that as it may, if something isn't done soon, we may have to abandon the outpost."

"But, that would leave the planet vulnerable to Klingon takeover." Starac said. "Perhaps now would be the time for Federation intervention."

Matt just shook his head. "The Prime Directive. Federation cannot interfere."

"TThhe Pprimme Ddirreccttivve onnlly apppplliess wwhhenn tthhinngggs arre pprroggrressinng nnorrmmally."

"C'oLLo'Rg is right. The militia and the government are no longer in control. It won't be more than a few days until everything breaks down. I suggest we act now."

"I'll include an urgent request for help in my next report."

"Nnoww!"

Another rock came through the window and struck Matt in the chest, knocking him to the floor.

**********

James Kirk took off his uniform jacket and put it in his closet. He sagged into a chair in the living area of his quarters. "Go ahead and pour, Bones." He said motioning toward a bottle of Saurian Brandy that sat on the edge of the coffee table. "But go easy, that's the real thing, not synthesized. It's from my private stock. I'd prefer something a little milder right now, but until they get the wine synthesizer working ... "

"You wouldn't happen to have any bourbon in that private stock of yours, would you? That Mint Julep recipe that T'Anya gave me would go down real smooth right about now." McCoy poured two glasses and handed one to Jim.

Just then, the door buzzer sounded. Jim activated the private intercom.

"Spock here, Captain. May I come in?"

Kirk was mildly surprised to see that the Vulcan was not in uniform, but was wearing the g'ell. Even off duty, Spock usually wore his uniform when he was outside of his private quarters. The g'ell was a light brown, signifying anxiety.

"Jim, I'd like to talk to you, man to man." Another surprise, Spock rarely called him by his given name, and even rarer, by his nickname. It was always 'Captain' or 'Sir'.

"I was just leaving, anyway." McCoy put down his glass and started to get up.

"No, Doctor. Please stay. I will need your assistance, too." Spock's face was greener than usual, perhaps the Vulcan equivalent of a blush.

"In that case, would you care for a drink?"

Spock nodded yes. Another surprise. The Vulcan rarely drank alcohol, and never touched the real stuff. The g'ell became a deeper shade of brown. Spock toyed with his drink for a long time. "I want to discuss a matter of deep personal concern with the two of you. It's one that I have never had to confront before, and I was not certain that I would ever have to deal with it." He took a long sip of his drink. "I have every reason to believe that I am in love." He took another sip. "Correction. I AM in love. I have asked T'Anya Aarayan to be my wife and she has consented."

"Love? ... Wife? ... But I Thought ... Vulcan's couldn't ... Pon Farr ... I mean that's supposed ... You and T'Anya ... It's not time for Pon Farr ... Is it?" McCoy and Kirk were stunned.

"No, Bones ... Jim. This has nothing to do with Pon Farr. Pon Farr provides Vulcans with more or less ... physical relief. There is little or no true emotion involved. This is very difficult for me to explain, since I am still learning to deal with my human self. Humans have a great capacity for love. T'Anya has helped me to unlock the door to my emotions. Before she came into my life, I was alive, but not truly living. She has changed all that. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I am a total being. I owe it all to her. I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life

without her. I know that sounds totally illogical, But at the same time, it is the most logical thing I know. I do not expect either of you to fully comprehend ..."

"Oh, but I do comprehend." Thought Kirk. He had understood what was happening between the two of them for some time. He had seen the smile that came to Spock's face when he talked about T'Anya, and it did not seem out of place. There was an inner radiance and composure about Spock that projected itself. It said that here, at last, was a man, long troubled, who had found peace and harmony within himself. Jim wanted to reach out for Spock, and tell him that he did, indeed, fully comprehend.

" ... and so, Captain, If you would perform the ceremony ..."

"Perform the ceremony!" Jim said, coming out of his reverie. "Of course I'll marry the two of you. I'd have you keelhauled if you had even thought about asking anyone else to do the honors."

McCoy had his arms around Spock and was pounding him on the back. "Congratulations, I didn't know you had it in you." He said, grinning ear to ear. "I better get an invitation to the wedding. Or Else."

"You'll get more than an invitation, Doctor. I would like you to be my Best Man."

"Best Man? ... Of course I'll be your best man. In fact, I'd be honored." Bones sputtered.

Kirk refilled everyone's glasses. "A toast." He said, lifting his glass in the air. "To Spock and T'Anya. May they live long and prosper."

"To Spock and T'Anya." McCoy echoed.

"Priority One message from Starfleet Command." Lt. M'Rezz purred. Her soft cat-like voice somehow did not seem to convey the urgency that was usually associated with a Priority One message. But then, the Caitian communications officer could make a Red Alert sound like a lullaby.

"Put it through to my quarters, M'Rezz." Kirk said. Her Lioness features disappeared from the vid screen. She was replaced by the Federation emblem. The words "Command Access Code" were blinking at the bottom. Kirk entered his command code.

The emblem faded and was replaced by Commodore Torrnn's Andorian face. Torrnn was the Starfleet attache to the Federation State Department. He was definitely agitated. "We may have trouble on Pandor 6. The last transmission from the observation post there was three days ago. They are to report every day. We haven't been able to raise them since. Their last message indicated that there seemed to be a breakout of mass hysteria among the population. Our Chief Observer there, Matthew Jeffries seems to feel that it could erupt into widespread civil violence or even warfare at any moment. In addition, there seems to be at least seven Klingon warships in easy reach of the Klingon frontier.

Since the Enterprise is the nearest Federation ship to Pandor, you are to investigate with the upmost urgency. I am transmitting all the reports from Pandor that deal with this to you. Your Communications Officer should begin receiving them as soon as this message ends.

Be careful, Captain. This could get very sticky. Torrnn out."

The screen went blank. M'rezz's face appeared again on the screen. "I am receiving coded transmissions from Starfleet."

"Good. Send them to the Conference Room when you have all of them. And have Mr. Sulu, Mr. Scott, Mr. Uhura, and Mr. Aarayan meet me there. On the double!" He grabbed his jacket from the closet. "Spock, Bones, come with me."

Spock was not in the room. Kirk and McCoy started out the door and nearly collided with Spock, now in uniform.

The viewscreens in the Conference Room held pictures of Pandor 6. "Well." Kirk said to the persons assembled. "You have all seen the reports from Chief Observer Jeffries. Also, the files from the computer database as well as the transmission from Commodore Torrnn. Any comments? Mr. Aarayan?"

"According to all pertinent information, there does not appear to be any recent history of political dissatisfaction or civil or ethnic unrest. I would be inclined to rule out revolution or civil war as a factor. In addition, there does not appear to be any discernible pattern or logic to the violence. It appears to be spontaneous and at random. Perhaps there could be some biological or psychological source for these incidents."

"McCoy?" Kirk looked to his Chief Medical Officer.

"Whatever this is, I doubt it has any biological cause. No virus, bacteria or other organism I know of would work that fast and that completely. Also, if it were organic, there would be places that were isolated from the general population that wouldn't be affected. There aren't. As for psychological causes, that is a definite possibility. But there again, there should be places where there are no symptoms, but there isn't. It's planet wide. Whatever it is, we've got to find out what's causing it and a way to neutralize it before the Pandorians destroy themselves."

"Mr. Scott. Any ideas?"

"Well, Captain, I keep wondering if the Klingons might not be behind this. After all, there is a bloody lot o' them just the other side of the Neutral Zone. Besides, according to Jeffries' reports, none of the members of the Klinzai Cultural Exchange seem to be too badly affected by all of this. From what I know of Klingons, they love a good fight or two, but they are taking all of this just a little too calmly for my money."

"Mr. Spock?"

"Well, Sir, I ... "

"Klingons!" McCoy interrupted, slamming his hand on the table. "Of course! I thought the symptoms sounded a little familiar. It wasn't until Scotty mentioned Klingons that the pieces started to fall into place. It has to be it. It fits. Don't you see? It's as plain as the nose on your face. They're using it!"

"Bones!" Kirk said. "Since you have figured it out, would you mind sharing your discovery with the rest of us?"

"The Mind Sifter! Jim, you of all people should know what I'm

talking about."

"Mind Sifter? What's that?" Aarayan asked.

"Without getting too technical, It's a diabolical machine that interferes with the normal brain patterns." McCoy explained. "The Klingons use it to extract information directly from the mind of unwilling informants. It almost literally 'sifts' the person's mind. Hence the name. In the process, the person becomes confused, depressed, hostile and violent. If it is used long enough, the person eventually becomes completely insane and eventually dies."

"Take it from one who has been there, it is a most agonizing experience." Kirk said. "One thing I can't figure out, though. If it is the Mind Sifter, how can they use it on the whole planet? If I remember correctly, it's very small and its range is extremely limited."

"Maybe I can help clarify that. " Scotty spoke up. "Since the Mind Sifter works by interfering with brain wave frequencies, it is possible that the bastards have figured out a way to broadcast the disruptions over the entire planet. Sorta like radio waves. They could be using the planet's satellite system or even a force generator."

"I would tend to concur with Mr. Scott's evaluation of the situation." Spock added. "Naturally, the waves would be considerably weaker than if they were using the Sifter on a one to one basis. That could explain why it has taken so long to affect the Pandorians to the degree that we see now."

"But how do we stop it?" T'Anya asked.

"That's a good question." Scotty said. "If I knew the right frequencies, it's possible I could make up a gizmo to broadcast a harmonious wave. The two would counteract each other and that should effectively nullify the Mind Sifter. Assumin' that's what we're dealing wit', that is."

"It's the best scenario we have." McCoy replied. "I still have the psychological tapes from Jim and from Spock after they had been through it. Would they help?"

"It's a good start. How long do I have to play with it?"

"Mr. Sulu?"

"At Warp 8, we' can be in Pandorian orbit in approximately two standard days. We should be able to tell more precisely whether they are using the Mind Sifter the closer we get to Pandor."

"Two point six three standard days, to be exact." Spock clarified.

"Spock and Aarayan will assist you. Anything or anyone else you need is at your disposal. This has the highest priority."

"And if it isn't the Mind Sifter?"

Kirk sighed heavily "Then it's back to square one and we start all over again."

**********

Two nervous days later, the Enterprise was circling Pandor. As they had suspected, the closer they got to the planet, the more definite the signature became. It was definitely the Mind Sifter. Just outside territorial range, sat a Klingon Bird Of Prey. Kirk recognized it. The Qej nuvMach. It's Captain was Kommander Kor. They had met several times before, definitely not on the friendliest terms. Kirk remembered the last time and winced slightly. He could still feel Kor's dagger cutting into his thigh.

"I don't like them out there. Sir." Sulu said. "It's as if they are just waiting for something to happen."

"Neither do I, Helmsman, but this is open territory and there is nothing we can do about it. They know why we're here and we know why they're here. It's the old cat and mouse game.

"Transmission from the Klingon ship, Sir." M'Rezz purred.

"On screen. Let's see what their official excuse is this time."

Kor's face filled the viewscreen. "Kirk, my old friend. How are you feeling these days?" He said. "It's a pleasure to see you once more. May I ask what brings you this far from Terra?" He grinned broadly. With his irregular yellow teeth and his ridged forehead, he looked conspicuously like some swamp animal about to pounce. "I hope there is no problem."

"You sly fox. You know there's more problems than a pride of long tailed Mican cats in a room full of rocking chairs." Kirk thought. "No problem. Routine patrol." Kirk answered aloud. "We stopped by to see if our observation team needed anything. You know, soap, coffee, shaving cream, and things like that. What about you. This is a long way from your usual territory."

"Same thing. Routine patrol. Just making sure that out people on the planet have what they need to complete their mission. Perhaps when we have taken care of things, you and your crew could spend some time as my guest." He flashed the same ugly toothy smile.

"More like your prisoners." Kirk whispered to himself. "Perhaps some other time." He said aloud. "We are on a very tight schedule at the moment. Kirk out."

Kor's face faded from the viewscreen and Kirk breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Checkov mumbled something in Russian.

"What did you say, Mr. Checkov?"

"I don't t'ink you vould vant me to translate that, Keptin."

"Mr. Checkov." Spock said. "What you are suggesting is anatomically impossible. Even for a Klingon. Especially for a Klingon."

"I still don't understand what the Klingons could possibly gain from all this." Sulu voiced the question that the whole ship was thinking.

"Either Spock or Aaryan could probably quote you chapter and verse, but, in a nutshell this is the way it stands. If either the Federation or the Klingon's break the terms of the Organian treaty, then the other party can claim the planet as their territory."

"Why would anyone except the Pandorians want Pandor in the first place? It has no appreciable mineral or geological significance and its technology certainly is not up to par with the other planets in either the Federation or the Empire. In fact, this whole area here is pretty backward."

"Sector G is a primitive area, like you said. However, Pandor is in a very strategic position. The presence of observation teams on the planet makes it difficult for anyone to infiltrate or launch an attack on the other through the Neutral Zone. If the Klingons had control of the area, they could come and go at will."

"Can't we do something to stop them?" Sulu asked.

"We have no actual proof that they are up to anything, only supposition at this point. If we try anything directly, then we would be guilty of breaking the treaty. The only thing we can hope to do is to get something tangable that we can take to the Organians."

"What about the Mind Sifter?"

"I'm sure if we smiled nicely and said pretty please with sugar on it, they'd be more than happy to hand one over to us." Kirk replied. "While that would be proof positive, we'll have to settle for something else. What, I don't know. We'll just have to play it by ear."

Kirk started to call Engineering when Scotty's voice came over the intercom.

"I know I'm shavin' things a bit thin, but I think we have come up with something that'll take out the Mind Sifter. According to M'Rezz's sonar scans, there's an anomalous signal down there that just happens to match the Sifter waves that we isolated from McCoy's tapes. Crewman Pitkis says it'll work."

"PITKIS??? Pitkis worked on this?"

Well, you said to get the best, and even if he is a goof up, he is a first rate engineer."

"I guess beggars can't be choosers." Kirk sighed. "Meet me in the Transporter room at once, Scotty. Tell Spock and Aarayan to be there too."

**********

Spock and T'Anya were positioning the Nullifier on the Transporter chamber when Kirk came into the room. It was about the size of a large suitcase.

"Captain." Spock said. "Without adequate testing, there is no guarentee that this will work as anticipated. I suggest we delay until we can give it thorough field trials."

"There's no time. According to the scans that M'rezz has from the surface, things have been deteriorating rapidly. It will get its field test down there. It will have to work the first time. Shall we go?"

Scott entered the room carrying several pairs of earphones. "Here," He said handing each of the away team a pair. "Put these on. I've modified them so they'll block out the effects of the Sifter. At least until we can get that gizmo up and runnin'."

**********

Matt Jeffries barely heard the message coming in from the starship above him. And even if he had, his garbled brain wouldn't have been able to decipher it. In the week since he had urgently asked for help, things on Pandor had gone from bad to worse to desperate. The pandemonium in the streets was well past anarchy. It was approaching all out chaos.

Even in the outpost, violence had taken it's toll. Between the in-fighting of the staff, and attacks from the rabble, no one had escaped whole. C'oLLo'Rg had been uprooted violently, he didn't remember by whom, and lay wilted brown and lifeless beside his/her/its bed pot. Fourteen of the staff had been killed outright, and eight more had fled into the streets. They hadn't been seen in two days. Starac had been reduced to a gibbering idiot and now huddled in the corner of the room in the fetal position. Most of the other members of the delegation were not in much better shape. Even Matt was having a difficult time separating reality from hallucination.

A projectile came through the opening that was once a window. Fearfully, Matt crouched under what was once his desk.

**********

Kazh took the transmitter from his secret hiding place and answered Kor's call.

"Things are all in place." The commander of the Qej nuvMach said. "The Federation ship Enterprise has achieved orbit and if my sensor sweeps are correct, they are preparing to beam to the surface."

Kazh grinned broadly. "This is better than we planned." He said triumphantly. "Begin the broadcasts back to the High Council. It'll cement our plans to have the pride of the Federation caught in the middle of the madness. That should convince the Organians that they were the instigators and not us."

"As you wish." Kor's face blacked out and Kazh put the transmitter back in its hiding place.

**********

They materialized inside the Federation compound. They had expected calamity, but what greeted them was beyond their worst nightmares. Fires burned uncontrolled throughout the city. Destruction was everywhere. Many buildings were little more than shells. There were several bodies lying in the yard, and from the degree of decomposition, they had been there for several days. One of the younger members of the away team leaned over the shattered trunk of a tree and lost his lunch into it.

Inside the main building, there was little difference from outside. Two of the walls had large holes in them. Furniture was overturned and broken. Papers were strewn everywhere. In a corner, a Vulcan crouched against the wall, his eyes glazed and staring. "It's gotten to him." Scott said, putting a pair of the earphones on him. The man recoiled in abject fear.

From under a desk, Kirk heard whimpering sounds. He approached cautiously, his phaser on stun. Under the desk, he found the Chief Observer. He was not in much better shape than his aide was. Kirk quickly positioned a set of headphones on him. "What happened here?" He asked.

"I'm King Arthur and this is the Mad Tea Party. Are you the Seven Dwarfs? Have you seen Lois Lane? There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o ... " Matt Jeffries said in a high sing song voice.

Sulu came in from the yard. His normally olive complexion had a definite greenish cast. "There's about a dozen people in the compound still alive. That doesn't include six children we found huddled in the basement. Most of them are severely traumatized."

T'Anya was on communicator to McCoy, giving him the details and arranging for the beam up of the victims.

Spock was scanning the area. "Captain, the readings indicate that the waves surrounding this area identical to those produced by the Mind Sifter."

"Then we had better get this thing set up ... fast." Kirk started to open the Nullifier.

"It'll work much better if we set it up outside." Scotty volunteered.

Kirk looked at the square through the gaping hole that once was a picture window. A large crowd had gathered and was milling around. It appeared that every one of them showed signs of the effects of the Sifter. Every so often, a fight would break out. There did not appear to be any clear cut sides, everyone was fighting everyone else.

A statue, probably one of their heroes, stood on a platform in the middle of the square. Someone had painted an obscene sign on it in a very embarrassing place. Suddenly, a group of youths climbed on the platform and began to rock the statue. As it fell, a cheer went up from the mob. Then, yelling vulgarities, the mob began to attack the youths.

"Are you sure, Scotty?" Kirk said.

The mob tired of beating on the youths and began to lazily throw pieces of the statue at the passers by. Many of them were struck, but they did not even seem to notice the blood pouring from their wounds. They just kept on going on their way as though nothing happened.

"Believe me, Captain, I would na' have suggested it if I dinna think so."

They started out into the square. Suddenly, someone grabbed the suitcase from Kirk. A karate chop from Scott made the culprit drop the case. Another from the crowd grabbed Kirk from behind and attempted to wrestle him to the ground. Abruptly, he stopped and Kirk looked around to see Spock, his hands on the unconscious man's neck. Scott was occupied fighting off another attacker. Kirk helped with a rabbit punch to the man's kidney area. Out of the corer of his eye, he saw T'Anya deliver a well placed knee to another's groin.

Suddenly, over the crowd, a voice rang out. "Listen to me! Listen to me!" Kirk looked in the direction of the voice and saw Spock standing on the platform where the statue had been. He had his arms outstretched and his eyes intently focused on the crowd. Someone threw a piece of the broken statue at him. He reeled slightly and greenish blood flowed from the gash on his head. "Listen to me." He said calmly. "There is nothing to be afraid of. We do not intend to harm you. Listen to my words and relax."

"What in the world is he trying to do?" Kirk shouted. "Get himself killed?"

"Mass hypnosis!" T'Anya exclaimed. "But he can't do it by himself. There's too many and he won't be able to control all of them." She said, running toward the platform. Slowly, the crowd began to quiet as two voices, one a man's and the other a woman's, called out their plea. "Listen to me and do not be afraid."

"They're doin' it!" Scotty exclaimed. "By some miracle, they're doin' it!" His fingers were rapidly flying between the myriad of dials, knobs, and keypads on the Nullifier. "But we dinna' have much time. They canna' hold them for long." Already there were weak signs of dissent from some of the ones at the back. "Hang on, Spock-o. Just a wee bit more."

At that moment, there was a commotion from the other side of the square. "TRAITORS!!! LIARS!!! SPIES!!!" A voice rang out. Although Kirk could not see who was shouting, the voice had a distinct Klingonese accent. An angry wave swept through the crowd. "Kill them! Kill them! Kill!" The mob took up the chant. "KILL!!! KILL!!! KILL!!! KILL!!!"

A shot rang out. The mob became like a panic stricken animal. Confusion was everywhere. Kirk looked to the platform and saw T'anya limp in Spock's arms. He started running toward the statue's base when two men grabbed him from behind and pinned his arms in back of him. A third caught him on the chin with a right cross.

"He's one of the traitors." The Klingonese accented man was yelling. "Kill him!"

He started to swing again, but Kirk used the two that were holding him as a base and planted both feet in the puncher's chest and pushed hard. The man fell backward into the crowd. Then, using the momentum from that, he judo flipped the other two into their companion. He started toward the platform again, pushing would be attackers aside.

A series of shots rang out and there was total chaos. People were running around and screaming incoherently. On the platform, Spock let T'anya slide from his arms, and then he sank to his knees, clutching his chest.

Someone grabbed Kirk from behind and spun him around. He felt a searing hot pain and looked down to see the hilt of a Klingon dagger protruding from the top of his trousers. As the darkness closed around him, he heard the Nullifier hum into action.

**********

Slowly the greenish blackness dissipated. When he was able to focus clearly, it was obvious that he was in sickbay. Kirk tried to get up, but a sharp pain in his midsection forced him back to the medibed.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Jim." He turned in the direction of the voice. McCoy was beside him. "Did you enjoy your little nap?"

"Never mind the jokes, bones. How bad is it?"

"You were luckier than you have a right to be. No vital organs damaged. No serious muscle or nerve damage either. You'll be sore for a while, but the prognosis is excellent."

"The Nullifier?"

"Working like a charm. Last I heard, things were starting to calm down. The militia is starting to bring some sort of order, though it's going to take a lot of time. The Federation is sending a team of Counselors to help those who were severely affected get back on their feet.

As soon as the Klingons saw that we could block out the effects of the Mind Sifter, their warships took off in a cloud of ion dust. Also, according to Uhura, one of the ships, your friend Kor's, was broadcasting everything back to the homeworld. Apparently the High Council wasn't too happy with the whole thing. They sent an apology to he Federation and they've recalled the delegation for 're-evaluation'. I have a feeling that it ain't gonna be pretty. We did manage to snag a Sifter before they all disappeared. That, and the souvenir letter opener they left in your belly should be more than enough for the Organians. At least that's what Commodore Thornn says.

Also, Federation was impressed by the work that Pitkis did. They want him transferred to the Research Station on Starbase 14. ASAP. They think his engine compound has a lot of merit. That is, if you think you can spare him."

"I think that can be arranged." Kirk said with a slight smile. "What about our people?"

"Of the group that was beamed up, one, the Vulcan Starac, died. I think there was just too much insanity for him to absorb. The children seem to be the least traumatized by all this, and their chances look good. The rest are in stable condition, though I had to sedate and restrain three of them. They should all recover, but they're going to be spending some time at a Starbase hospital. As for Spock, you can see for yourself."

Spock was sitting on his medibed across from Kirk's. His head sported a large bandage. His chest also was swathed in bandages. He was staring intently at a screened off section of the sickbay.

"He was lucky as well." McCoy continued. If he had been completely Human, though it might have been a different story. It's just a good thing that Vulcan internal organs are in a different place than ours. As it was, we had a hard time getting him to take treatment. He didn't want us to do anything to him until he was sure that T'Anya was all right. We finally had to put him under just to examine, let alone treat him."

"And how is T'Anya?"

McCoy sighed gravely. "I wish I could tell you that she was lucky, too. But I can't. The bullet ruptured her spleen. Unlike human's, Vulcan's cannot live without it. We repaired as much of the damage as we could, but it's touch and go at this point. Dr. M'Begwa is with her now, but it doesn't look good. She's lost a great deal of blood and she may be too weak to go into the healing sleep. Of course, her pregnancy complicates things. We had to be extra careful not to harm the baby."

"Pregnant?" Kirk sat up surprised. The pain in his abdomen temporarily forgotten.

"About three months. I thought you knew."

"Two months. Twenty seven days. Eleven hours. As nearly as I can calculate. Of course, I was not certain that T'Anya was carrying my child until three days ago." Spock added.

Just then, M'Begwa came out of the screened off area. His swarthy face showed the tired worried lines of the past few yours. Spock was immediately on his feet.

"How is she?"

"I've done all I can. She is awake and lucid and not in too much pain. All anybody can do at this point is wait ... and pray."

"May I see her?

McCoy started toward Spock, but Kirk placed his hand on the doctor's arm to hold him back. One look at the intensity in Spock's eyes showed that it would be useless to try to talk the Vulcan out of it. M'Begwa looked to McCoy forhelp. McCoy nodded yes.

"Only for a few minutes. She's very weak." M'Begwa said.

Spock turned to Kirk. "Jim ... Would you ... could we ... be wed ... Now?"

A few moments later, Spock, McCoy, and Kirk entered T'Anya's area. She looked frail and thin on the medibed. Above her head, the life systems monitors beeped regularly, reassuringly. Spock took her hand. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Spock ... I ... " She said in a hoarse whisper.

"S-S-S-Sh ..." He whispered softly, putting his finger gently on her lips. "Do not talk. Just listen. You must conserve your energy for later. I have asked the Captain, and he has agreed to marry us now. I know I asked you before, but for the record. T'Anya Aarayan. Will you be my wife?"

"For the Record." She smiled weakly. "Yes, Spock of Vulcan. I will be proud and happy to be your wife."

Spock nodded to Kirk.

"Dearly beloved." The Captain began. 'We are gathered together to join this man and this woman in matrimony. Do you, T'anya Aarayan take Spock of Vulcan to be your lawfully wedded husband. To love him and cherish him till death do you part."

"I do." T'Anya's voice was loud and clear.

"Do you, Spock of Vulcan, take T'Anya Aarayan to be your lawfully wedded wife. To love her and cherish her till death ... " His voice wavered slightly. " ... do you part."

"I do." Spock swallowed hard.

"Then, by my authority as Captain of the USS Enterprise, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Kirk motioned for the others to leave with him.

Spock took her gently, lovingly into his arms. Carefully, he lifted her head from the bed. Gently, almost feather like he pressed his lips to hers. "And now, Mrs. Spock, You must rest and get well. For me ... and for our child."

"You know?"

"I wasn't completely positive until we had that pillow fight. A woman has a certain look about her when she is with child, and you ... " He kissed her again, this time more passionately. " ... have that look. Now, rest and when you are well, you and I and the baby will live happily ever after. Just as in the fairy tales. Because that is the life I intend to make for you and the baby. A fairy tale life. We will teach her to be both human and Vulcan and to be proud of both heritages. We will teach her to laugh and ... "

"Her?"

"Of course! It has to be a girl. And she will be sweet and beautiful like her mother. We'll dance with her and buy her a g'arn."

"But what if it's a boy?"

"It doesn't matter, my love. We'll just make that a g'ell. We'll feed him banana splits and we'll have pillow fights and we'll ... T'Anya?"

Her eyes were closed. Her hand went limp on his. He put his face close to hers. She took one last shuddering breath and then there was no more. The life support monitor began to beep erratically and then let out a single long monotone sound.

"McCOY !!!!! "

**********

Five minutes into eternity later, McCoy came out of the room. His face was ashen. He looked at Spock and even though no one spoke, they all knew.

NO !!! NO !!! NO !!! T 'A N Y A A A A A A A A ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! "

Spock's cry seemed to echo through the sickbay, the Enterprise, and even the universe itself. He buried his face in his hands. His face was twisted with an agony that comes, not from pain, but from the very soul itself. His body shook violently with soundless racking sobs. Slowly, he straightened himself. His face was an emotionless mask. He took as deep a breath as the bandages would allow, held it for a few seconds and then slowly exhaled. He lay back on the medibed and closed his eyes. Commander Spock. First Officer of the USS Enterprise. Vulcan. Was in control. Except for the tears streaming down his face.

**********

McCoy took his precious cargo from the surgical table and quickly slid it into the waiting plasiwomb. He adjusted the flow of blood to the proper mix of Vulcan T positive and Human O negative. When he was satisfied, he turned on the monitors.

Nothing.

He shook his head slowly. It was a long shot, after all.

Then, after what seemed like forever, the monitor gave one feeble, barely perceptible beep. Seconds later, there was another one. And another. Then the monitor began to beep slowly, regularly. Although they were barely above hearing levels, they were the loudest sounds McCoy had ever heard.

**********

The End?