Broken
Author: mzsnaz
Series: Star Trek: TOS
Category: drama/angst
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Viacom and Paramount.

Summary: A temporal disturbance has devastating effects on the passengers of a long-range shuttle. The Enterprise is sent to investigate, the circumstances of which are particularly difficult because of the identities of two of the passengers: Sarek and Amanda.

------

"Captains Log, Stardate 2369.2…"

Captain James T. Kirk hit the pause and turned to speak with his communications officer. "Uhura, anything from sickbay?"

"No, sir," she immediately replied.

Kirk nodded, resuming his log entry. "Our long awaited return to Earth after the V’Ger incident has been marred by an unexpected tragedy. A diplomatic shuttle has been severely damaged by an unknown assailant. Highly ranked members of the Vulcan diplomatic corps have been injured or killed. Fortunately, Ambassador Sarek, one of the passengers, was not one of those fatally injured. An initial investigation has not revealed the cause or explained the strange events just prior to and after the attack. Our hope is that more information will become available soon."

Absently pressing the ‘end log’ recording button, the captain swiveled around and stood. "I'll be in sickbay," he announced. "Mr. Sulu, you have the bridge." The doors whooshed open and shut with quiet efficiency and did nothing to break the solemn feel of those in the nerve center of the ship.

"Anything yet?"

Doctor Leonard McCoy irritably glanced up at the office intruder, switching off his medical recorder and harrumphing. "Jim, if I knew something, you'd be the second one I'd call."

James Kirk nodded his understanding as he leaned heavily against the door jamb. "I can't imagine what could have happened to cause such…"

"Injuries? Suffering?" McCoy's blue eyes glinted in despair. "If we could only get some answers."

"She's still unresponsive?"

The doctor didn't need a name. "She's in terrible shock. Why, I don't know." Slamming his hand down on his desk, he fiercely glared at the captain. "What could have happened to cause such a state?"

"It's your job to find that out," Kirk replied, not unkindly. "Has she said anything?"

"Nothing," the doctor spat out, verbally letting his dislike of mysteries known. "Not one damned thing. This may sound cruel, but I wish she was unconscious like Sarek."

Kirk pursed his lips as he pushed away from the door's frame. "What are you planning to do?"

"I have Lieutenant Commander Jarris trying to get something out of her now," McCoy replied. "Have you met Jarris? He's a psychologist who specialized in post-traumatic stress. One of the best around."

"Is that what we're dealing with?" Kirk asked, turning to solemnly gaze at the patients in sickbay. Nurses calmly took down vital sign information as the biobeds monitored the injured. Members of the Vulcan diplomatic corps who had been aboard the long-range shuttle ‘Eilidor' were the only occupants. The shuttle had been within monitor range of Earth when it suddenly disappeared, seemingly without a trace. Seconds later it reappeared, but the state of the vessel and the passengers had been drastically altered. The sleek sides had been seared with the black marks of phaser fire, and three of the passengers were dead. Those who survived were unconscious, save for the sole human member of the group. Her condition was listed as 'stable with indications of severe psychological trauma'.

"I wish I knew what had happened," McCoy groused as he stood. "Let me get Jarris' report first."

"Bones, you know that Starfleet Headquarters has given this top priority. We have to find out what happened due to the proximity of this event to Earth." Kirk knew what to expect, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Dammit, Jim, why does the proximity to Earth matter!" the doctor bellowed. "They could have been in the Neutral Zone and it would still be a tragedy. I know that Ambassador Sarek is one of the top dogs in the Federation, but this could have happened to anyone! That's why I'm trying to figure out the injury pattern."

"A pattern?" Kirk repeated, the word chilling him with its implication. "Are you saying that they were tortured?"

"I don't know," McCoy sighed. "I noticed something when they were first beamed over. Let me show you."

The two officers entered sickbay to the steady hum and beep of medical monitors. The doctor walked over to the closest patient, a young Vulcan aide by the name of T'Tep. The unconscious woman had been severely burned on her face and torso by an explosion of unknown origin. McCoy waved Kirk over to the edge of her bed, automatically glancing up to check the readouts.

"I first thought something was odd when I started to compare the injuries of the survivors. This young woman got the worst of it." The doctor sympathetically shook his head. "She's listed as the navigator on the shuttle roster. After carefully cross checking, I discovered that each of the passengers had one injury in common."

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

"Look here," McCoy instructed, pointing toward the woman's burned features. "Here along her temple and along her cheek bone is a series of bruises."

"Why do you believe it's a pattern?" the captain asked, forcing his eyes away from the ghastly sight of the woman's charred face.

"Take a look." McCoy waved his hand in the direction of the other patients. "They all have the same type of bruising. Even Amanda."

Kirk caught the doctor's blue eyes with his equally concerned hazel ones. "If she was also injured, why is she the only one who isn't unconscious?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," McCoy insistently replied. "I hate to say this, but if anyone should have died in that accident, or whatever it was, it was her. Humans don't have the strength or stamina of Vulcans, and I believe that she's the key to what happened if we can get past the mental block."

"It's not going to be easy," said a young medical officer as he entered sickbay.

"What did you discover?" the doctor asked, and then looked askance in the direction of the captain. "Jim, this is Doctor Verill Jarris. He’s one of the newer crew members."

"A pleasure, Captain," Jarris said, his distracted greeting indistinct as he continued. "Doctor, I believe that the patient is suffering from a near catatonic state brought about by observing, or being near, a traumatic event. It may even be a sense of guilt that has thrown her into such a deeply withdrawn state. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she blankly stared ahead without any acknowledgement that she heard, or even saw, me." The man handed McCoy several computer chits. "My session was recorded in full."

"Thank you, Doctor," McCoy said, tucking the chits into a file. "Tell us, did she say anything to you?"

"No," Jarris replied. "She didn't seem capable of understanding a word I said. Standard is her native language, isn't it? Even though she's married to…him?" He pointed toward Sarek's bed. McCoy's glower matched the way Kirk felt as he answered.

"Yes," Kirk stiffly said, positive he didn't care for Jarris' attitude. "Standard is her native language. Her name, by the way, is Amanda. She and Sarek have been married for over forty years and their son is the first officer of this ship." Jarris blanched as the irritation became more evident in the captain's hazel eyes. "We're here to conduct an investigation and nothing more. Any prejudice exhibited from my crew toward any passenger can and will result in a transfer. Don't forget that."

"No, sir," the chastised doctor said. "I meant nothing by my comment."

"That's exactly what I thought of your comment – nothing." Kirk whirled back to stare at his chief medical officer. "Bones, I want some answers. Starfleet is breathing down my neck demanding something."

"Let me review Amanda's session with Jarris and I'll let you know what we come up with," McCoy said. "Maybe another set of eyes can pick something up."

Kirk nodded and began to leave, but then turned back. "Is it possible that Spock might be able to get her to talk? I don't understand why you haven't asked him to speak with her."

McCoy and Jarris exchanged a look. "Well, actually…" the doctor said in a manner of someone stalling, "I did have Spock come down here. It…didn't go well."

"What happened?" Kirk asked.

"Spock had just entered the observation room when Amanda looked up and – screamed."

"Screamed?" Kirk repeated, shocked.

"She was terrified," Jarris confirmed. "Mr. Spock immediately left the room, but it took almost an hour before Amanda calmed enough to stop crying."

"And she didn't say anything?" Kirk asked.

"Unfortunately, no," Jarris said. "I think that's what surprised me."

"That she didn't speak?" McCoy asked.

"No, that she was so upset by her son's arrival," the younger doctor replied. "I would never have expected her to be so traumatized by the sight of her son."

"Unless she didn't see him as her son," McCoy softly said, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Maybe she thought Spock was someone else."

"Who?" the captain asked.

"That I'm not sure of," the doctor admitted with a grimace. "I'm just speculating. Amanda's reaction was instantaneous. She just looked up, saw him, and reacted."

"Because he was in the room?" Kirk posed. "I don't understand." He glanced over at Jarris. "How was it possible for you to be with her without causing her such stress?"

"To be honest, she just ignored me," Jarris replied with a self-conscious shrug. "She didn't even flinch when I accidentally dropped my stylus."

"So, what was she reacting to?" Kirk wondered. The three men silently considered the problem until McCoy suddenly raised his left eyebrow.

"Maybe she wasn't reacting to Spock, but rather to his appearance," the doctor said. "She didn't mind Jarris being in the room. Spock comes in and all hell breaks loose."

"What are you saying, Bones?"

McCoy pursed his lips before answering. "What I'm saying is it's possible that she was terrified of Spock because he's Vulcan. She looked up, saw his features, and lost it."

"But, she's married to a Vulcan! She's lived on Vulcan most of her adult life!" Kirk exclaimed. "I can't believe that she'd suddenly develop xenophobia."

"I can't either," McCoy said. "That is, unless what happened was caused by a Vulcan."

"Are you saying that you believe a Vulcan would inflict such injuries and death?" Jarris' tone indicated his disbelief. His superior grimly nodded.

"It's a stretch, but we need answers," McCoy replied, "and the only one who might be able to give us anything right now is a human who appears to be scared to death of Vulcans."

-------

"Cap'n, could ye come down to the main shuttle bay fer a moment?"

Kirk, who had just returned to the bridge, turned from the center console and strode toward the turbolift doors. "On my way, Scotty. Mr. Sulu, you have the bridge."

The captain entered the bay and cautiously picked his way past the seared metal pieces and small teams of Engineers who were meticulously examining each item. Scotty was busy near the shuttle, its hull badly damaged by weapons fire. "What do you have for me, Mr. Scott?" Kirk asked.

"Well, sair," Scott began, handing his tricorder to a nearby technician, “we’ve been workin’ non-stop to determine the sear mark pattern. Ye'll notice that the bottom of the shuttle has the most damage, and it was caused by an old style plasma weapon, not conventional phasers."

"How can that be?" the captain asked, stooping to observe more clearly the blackened portion of the shuttle.

"I'm not sure, sair, but the scorch marks indicate that the 'Eilidor' was being fired at as it took off."

"But, that's impossible," Kirk replied, reaching out to touch the rough surface. "They were in flight when they disappeared and weren't close enough to Earth to have landed."

"That's the mystery of it," Scott admitted, rubbing his hand thoughtfully on his chin. "We've finished the investigation of the interior, but what we've found there makes even less sense."

They entered the main compartment of the shuttlecraft. Kirk could see the obvious signs of an emergency – unsecured computer chits littered the floor, damaged computer monitors hung limply from their mountings. One seat had been torn from its moorings and had been flung into the rear of the ship. The captain took in a sharp breath as he realized that the odd speckled pattern on most of the seats was blood – dark blood that covered certain parts of the floor with a greenish-black glaze.

"Have you been able to determine where everyone was in the cabin at the time of the attack?" Kirk asked, leaning toward a control panel that showed indications of melting from heat exposure.

"Based strictly on the passenger manifest, we believe that the pilot and navigator were in their seats," Scott said, pointing toward the mangled front of the vessel. "The pilot was killed instantly, but I understand that the navigator is alive."

"Just barely," Kirk said, wincing at the memory of the burned young woman.

"There were three aides and two assistants assigned to the ambassador who, we believe, were sittin' around here," Scott added, indicating the next two rows of seats. "The ones to the left were killed. That's one of their chairs back there," he said, indicating the chair at the rear of the shuttle. "What's odd is the blood splatter would indicate that only the pilot and navigator were actually sitting at the time of the blast. That dinna make sense."

"Where were Sarek and Amanda?"

Scott nodded his understanding. "Well, our best estimate, based upon where the ambassador and his wife were found, was that they were near the back of the shuttle – about here."

Kirk went to the area. "There's still the same blood splatter pattern," he softly said, almost to himself. "There's something not right here."

"Aye, sair," Scott agreed. "All of the blood found is copper-based – Vulcan. We've been able to trace it to each of those aboard."

"No human blood at all?" Kirk asked, surprised.

"Nary a drop," the engineer confirmed. The captain narrowed his eyes, searching the shuttle for some indication of what might have transpired in those lost minutes.

"What about log entries? Have those been analyzed yet?"

Scott harrumphed in disgust. "There were no log entries. All recordings and log entries have been wiped clean – as if on purpose."

The men exchanged a knowing look. "As if someone were hiding something. You're sure that the damage to the shuttle was caused by plasma fire?" Kirk asked, still not able to believe that a Vulcan ship would come under attack in the Solar system.

"No doubt about it, sair," Scott replied. They exited the shuttle just as Dr. McCoy entered the bay, his scowling face indicating his mood.

"What do you have for me, Bones?"

"Not as much as I'd like," the doctor groused. The two left the bay and entered the nearest turbolift.

"Sickbay," Kirk routinely said, the word sending the lift into motion. "Are you telling me that you don't have anything new?"

"It's still a puzzle, but I might have a few more of the pieces," McCoy stated, his eyes cutting around at the newer lift design. “Do you think they can make these things any faster?”

The captain chuckled, but then turned serious. “Have any of the patients regained consciousness yet – besides Amanda?"

"No," the doctor said, sighing. "In fact, the little navigator died just an hour ago. Her injuries were just too severe."

Kirk shook his head in dismay. "I'm sorry to hear that, Bones. You did what you could."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't enough," the doctor said, fuming at the situation. "This entire incident shouldn't have happened, and I haven't heard one theory that makes sense."

"We'll keep looking," the captain said, forcing an optimistic look to his features. "We'll figure this one out like we always do."

"Huh," McCoy noncommittally grunted. "I suppose."

The officers entered sickbay where Jarris was intently waiting for them, a metallic padd tucked under one arm.

"Sirs, may I speak with you both in private?" the man asked.

Kirk and McCoy exchanged a quick look, and the doctor waved the medical professional toward his office. "Certainly," McCoy said.

Once they were in the office, Jarris placed the padd on the desktop. "Doctor McCoy, I may have found the cause of the pattern of bruises on each of the ‘Eilidor' passengers."

"Were they tortured?" Kirk said, wondering at the need for privacy when all the patients were unconscious, save for Amanda, who was in one of the isolation rooms under the careful watch of a nurse.

"I can't be sure about that, but I think I know what happened," Jarris maintained. He startled the captain by reaching out and touching his face.

"Hey, what are you doing?" McCoy asked as Kirk pulled away from the man. Jarris flushed slightly.

"Sorry, sir. I thought a demonstration might be in order."

"A demonstration of what?" the captain asked, aggravation lacing his tone. He still wasn’t sure what to think of the man.

"What was your immediate reaction when I did that?" Jarris asked.

"I – pulled away from you," Kirk replied, wondering what the point was.

"Exactly," Jarris said, enthusiastically nodding. "That's a fairly universal response. But, what if I were to press my hand to your face and reach behind you with my other hand to hold the back of your head?"

"I – wouldn't be able to escape," the captain said, understanding dawning on him. "Are you saying that you believe each of the passengers was involved in a forced Vulcan mind meld?"

"Who would do such a thing?" McCoy asked, shocked by the accusation.

"It's just a theory, but I did find evidence of bruising on the backs of several of the passengers," Jarris said. "Also, the bruises are spaced in such a way as to suggest finger marks. It's the one consistent injury that appears in all of them."

"Including Amanda," Kirk murmured. He knew without a doubt that she was the key – but what could be done to break her silence? "Bones, I have a question – why wasn't Amanda's blood found in the shuttle?"

"She didn't have a scratch on her, except for some bruises, including the ones on her face," McCoy replied. He bit his bottom lip in thought. "It was as if…"

"As is she weren't there until the very end – after the shuttle was fired upon and the most serious injuries occurred," Kirk said, finishing the sentence.

"But, she had to be there!" Jarris exclaimed.

"I realize that," the captain replied testily, "but I haven't heard any other explanations given as to what happened on that ship. What do we know?"

McCoy took the cue and began ticking off points using his fingers as counters. "One, we know that the shuttle, without a trace, disappeared for 5.439 seconds while on approach to Earth. That's an exact quote from Spock." Kirk grinned as the doctor continued. "Two, the ship reappeared with significant damage to the hull and serious injures to those on board, including psychological injury to at least one of the passengers. Three, of the passengers on board, four have died from their injuries. Five are still confined to sickbay."

"Four, someone forced a mind meld on each one of them," Jarris added.

"Anything else?" Kirk asked.

"Well, there is this," McCoy said, looking at a report on the padd Jarris handed him. "There were four female and five males on board the shuttle. As of this moment, only one of the females is alive."

"Interesting," the captain said. "And the one female who is alive is human. What could have prevented her from suffering the same fate as the others?"

"Do you think that Sarek was somehow able to shield her?" McCoy posed, shrugging. "I'm just throwing out ideas here."

Kirk nodded. "I thought the same thing, but how could he have done that with the injuries he suffered?"

"People are capable of performing extraordinary feats during times of crisis," Jarris offered, reaching for some plausible explanation. "Maybe the ambassador realized that his wife was going to die unless he did something to protect her."

"If she were in the shuttle, she would have been burned or cut, even just superficially, by the fire that breached the hull and the flying debris," McCoy countered. He let out a ragged breath. "We're back to square one. What happened?"

The door slid open, and Spock stood in the doorframe, an eyebrow raised at the sight of the mini-conference in the doctor's office. "May I speak with you a moment, Doctor?" he asked.

"If it's not confidential, Spock, share," Kirk said, motioning for the Vulcan to enter. "We're just trying to come up with some explanation of what happened to the shuttle and its crew."

"Indeed?" Spock said, his tone reserved. "The lab results have come back, and they are most – unusual."

"Why am I not surprised?" McCoy grumbled, holding out his hand for the readout the first officer had in his possession.

"You will note that the results of the sensor sweep of the interior and exterior of the ‘Eilidor' indicate traces of soil and atmosphere consistent with Vulcan," Spock said, waiting for the doctor to scan the report.

"That's not helpful, considering the flight originated from Vulcan," McCoy said, scowling. "What's so unusual about that?"

"Examine the soil and air components, Doctor," Spock said, his tone pressing. "There are trace elements present that have not been on Vulcan since before the time of Surak."

"What?" the doctor said, shock evident in his voice. Kirk and Jarris were also staring wide-eyed at the first officer.

"Are you saying that the shuttle somehow – went back in time?" Kirk asked. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I am saying that there are indications of elements that are not consistent with the modern blend of top soil and atmosphere on Vulcan."

"You mean top sand," McCoy joked, but his tone was somber. "Is it possible that the shuttle entered some sort of time distortion that put them in the past?"

"That is an unlikely scenario," the Vulcan said, gazing down at the report. "However, time travel may have occurred."

"That's what I said," the doctor gruffly said. "Why can't you just say that I might be right?"

Spock ignored McCoy's outburst. "If time travel did occur, it is imperative that we determine the timeframe."

"Why?" Kirk asked.

"Due to the violent periods in Vulcan's past," Spock explained. "Pre-Reform Vulcan was a time of great struggle and war. Bloodshed and fighting were commonplace before the Time of Awakening."

"That was before Surak was able to work out a peace treaty between the clans," McCoy said, raising a challenging eyebrow at the Vulcan. "See, I know my history."

"Surak did not have a specific plan for peace, Doctor," Spock said, pursing his lips together in a tight line. "His teachings did spread among the clans, and many were converted to a peaceful existence due to his logical arguments and written works."

"So, if the shuttle landed on a Vulcan before the time of Surak, then they may have encountered Vulcans who would have been quite different from the peaceful Vulcans of today," Kirk said, frowning. "Is that what you're suggesting?"

"Were I to extrapolate from the known evidence, I would say that is correct."

"Yes, Jim, that's what he's saying," McCoy said, glaring at the Vulcan. "Why you can't just say ‘yes' or ‘no' like a normal person is something I'll never understand."

"Then that query shall join the vast mountain of information you do not understand, Doctor," Spock said, his tone dry.

Kirk exhaled and held up his hand. "Gentlemen, please," the captain firmly said, cutting off the bickering before it escalated. "Let's focus our energy on finding out what happened to the shuttle and to those on board."

"Doctor, has the condition of any of the passengers changed?" Spock inquired, his eyes averted back to the report in his possession. Kirk felt an eyebrow rise at the question, but he said nothing.

McCoy also seemed to understand the rather broad question. "Those physically wounded should recover over time," the doctor replied. "So far, none of them has shown signs of attempting to regain consciousness. We know what to do when that happens in any event. As for psychological wounds…"

"Should there be any changes, I would appreciate being informed," Spock said, cutting off the doctor. The captain wasn't surprised that the Vulcan interrupted McCoy. He knew that Amanda's reaction to him had upset Spock far more than he would ever say.

The doctor nodded. "You'll be the first one I talk to," he softly replied. "I did go over the interview Jarris had with Amanda. I’m afraid that there isn’t anything that I can add. He's right – she didn’t react to his presence at all."

"Each person's coping mechanism is different," Jarris added, shifting uneasily while speaking with the Senior Officers. He knew he’d gotten off on the wrong foot with the captain, and he wasn’t sure he could recover from the prejudicial gaffe he’d made. "It's fairly well accepted that the more threatened a person feels, the more traumatized they will be by the experience."

"That's true," McCoy said, his thoughts still troubled by what he'd seen in the interview. "I would say that whatever she saw was pretty horrific. Spock, do you know how your mother generally handles stress?"

"My experience has been two-fold," the Vulcan said, folding his hands behind his back. "She has been known to withdraw from a given situation if it has the potential for an unwanted confrontation. She has also been known to react rather strongly when threatened, or when a family member's life is in danger."

Kirk said nothing, although Spock had mentioned once that his mother had angrily lashed out at him during the Babel conference. The captain didn't feel that it was his duty to defend his first officer from his own mother and had considered the incident a one time event.

"So, it wouldn't be unexpected for her to withdraw," Jarris said, seemingly pleased with the answer to the doctor's question. "That may be what has happened. Time may be the best healer in this case. Just keep her calm and –"

The office door opened, and a frantic nurse stood in the doorway. "Doctor, come quickly! One of the patients is in cardiac arrest."

The men swiftly exited the office, McCoy in the lead. He sprinted to the side of one of the biobeds, quickly analyzing the flowing data. Alerts were piercing the air, and several nurses swarmed around the bed, placing monitors on the still Vulcan figure. Kirk and Spock paused only briefly near the sickbay entrance.

"Do what you can, Bones," the captain said. An affirmative grunt was all the doctor had time for as he worked.

Several hours later, a call from sickbay confirmed the worst – the patient, a young man with no history of heart problems, had died, presumably from injuries sustained during the attack on the shuttle. Kirk closed the channel and wearily sat back. Five passengers were dead – three were unconscious, and one… He sighed, drawing the attention of his first officer.

"The death of the aide is most unfortunate," Spock said, breaking the morose silence that filled the bridge.

"Agreed," Kirk said. "Do we know who he was?"

"His name was Selde, and he had been a member of the Vulcan diplomatic corps for three years."

"A young man," the captain said, frowning. "Not that it matters, but it's just such a loss."

"Indeed," Spock said. The Vulcan appeared to want to say more, and Jim swiveled his chair toward him.

"Did you know him?" Kirk asked.

"No," Spock replied. "However, I do feel an obligation to those who have died. If I may, I would like to contact their Families."

"That would be a kind gesture," the captain said, nodding. "You have my permission to do so at this time."

"Thank you, Jim."

"I just hope that there won't be any other families for you to contact."

"That is also my wish," Spock said, agreeing with the sentiment as he left the bridge.

In sickbay, McCoy was glaring into a snifter half filled with brandy. He had just poured the beverage, but suddenly didn't have the stomach for it. "Damned Vulcans," he muttered under his breath. "It just doesn't make sense."

He had left his office door open and wasn't surprised when he saw the tall, slender figure of the first officer enter.

"May I help you?" the doctor obligingly asked.

"If I may impose at this time, Doctor, I would appreciate a listing of those who have perished."

"Sending condolences?" McCoy softly asked. "Sure, just a moment."

Spock waited a moment in the office while the doctor rummaged around through the stacks of chits on his unorganized desktop. He eventually reentered the main section of sickbay, glancing briefly at an aide and assistant who were quietly resting. He passed them and walked over to the side of his father's biobed. Sarek didn't appear to be in any pain, and other than some cuts and scrape marks on his lower arms and face, he could have been merely resting instead of recovering from an attack.

Spock had just turned away from his father's bed when he felt it – something heavy and ominous that settled on his chest. For a few tense moments, he could not breathe – he could not escape the feeling of drowning although he stood in the middle of sickbay. Then, just as quickly, the sensation was gone. Spock took in a deep, shaken breath, grateful that he could do so. Taking in the whole of the room, he saw nothing abnormal. Still, the remnants of breathlessness stayed with him.

"Here you go," McCoy said, handing the Vulcan a computer chit. "That should include the contact information."

"Yes," Spock said, his imprecise manner alerting McCoy to a possible problem.

"Is something wrong?" the doctor asked, but Spock turned and strode toward the door.

"No, Doctor. Thank you for your assistance." Once outside in the hall, Spock slowed to a halt. Something had caused him to feel – besieged – while in sickbay. The Vulcan considered returning to the room to see if he could determine the cause of his discomfort, but the thought of explaining what he was doing to the good doctor was enough for him to discard the plan and return to the bridge.

McCoy had just taken a couple sips of the smooth concoction in his glass when Nurse Fields hesitantly entered the office. She was one of the newer members of the medical staff and was still unsure of what to think of her new CMO.

"May I help you?" he asked chivalrously, knowing that the shy woman didn’t understand his generally gruff manner.

"Doctor, I've already contacted Dr. Jarris, but I thought you would like to know that something is going on with Amanda."

McCoy was up and out the door before the nurse finished her sentence. Jarris had already entered the isolation room, and McCoy stopped just inside the door. Nurse Fields was right – something was going on. Amanda was on her bed, curled up into the fetal position, her eyes tightly closed. She appeared to be in pain, although she didn't make a sound. Jarris was running a tricorder over her, shaking his head.

"Doctor McCoy, I just don't get it. There's nothing physically wrong, but she's reacting as if she were in great pain."

"Quiet," the doctor ordered. He was certain he heard something - some form of articulation - in the room. Jarris and Nurse Fields gave the CMO a quizzical look, but the man slowly moved over until he was only inches from Amanda's face. He leaned down and waited.

Nearly a minute passed before he took in a sharp breath, raising both eyebrows in surprise.

"Did you hear what she said? I couldn't make it out," Fields said, her voice barely audible.

Jarris sighed. "It sounded like she said 'molten'."

"No," McCoy said, "Listen again."

Another minute passed. Then…

"What does she mean?" Fields asked, confused. McCoy shook his head.

"I have absolutely no idea," he said. His sympathetic gaze fell on restless woman. It was as if she were being tormented by unseen demons. "Keep an eye on her, Fields," the doctor ordered. "If she says anything else, let us know. If she doesn't appear to be able to sleep, also let us know. I may order a sedative."

"Yes, sir," the nurse immediately replied.

Jarris and McCoy reentered sickbay solemnly. The psychologist turned to his senior officer. "What do you make of this development?" he asked.

McCoy shook his head. "I really don't know," the doctor replied. "Maybe she's trying to snap out of the state she's in."

"The tricorder indicates that she's not in any physical pain," Jarris maintained. "I don't understand why she looks so stricken."

"And I don't understand what she means," McCoy added.

Fields sat in the room with the ambassador's wife. She felt sorry for the petite older woman who was noticeably agitated, although she didn't move from the bed. The nurse pondered the word Amanda had spoken – 'broken'. Even now, Fields could hear the word occasionally murmured by her patient. Was is important, or just a random word?

"Broken," Amanda said, this time louder than the whispered voice she had been using.

"What do you mean?" Fields asked aloud, curious to see if the woman would speak with her. There was no other word spoken for several minutes.

"Broken," Amanda repeated, this time barely above a whisper. The nurse sighed. Obviously, Jarris was right – the sooner they were able to transfer their patient to a psychiatric ward on Earth, the better. A sound outside the door alerted the nurse to her replacement arriving to relief her of duty. The door slid open, and Fields stepped back – in horror.

"Good evening, Miss Fields," the imposing male said, an uncharacteristic smile on his Vulcan features.

"Who – what are –"

She gasped for air, feeling her air passages close. She fell to the floor, convulsing – struggling to breathe. Minutes later, her sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling. The Vulcan stepped over the body toward the trembling woman on the bed.

"Ah, Amanda – we meet again," the menacing figure hissed. He chuckled at the terror on her face. "You didn't actually believe that I wouldn't find him, did you?"

She moaned, unable to speak.

"Best of all, you will lead me to him," the Vulcan said coolly. "It is good to know that some things, such as maternal instinct, will never change. You'll try to protect him, and I'll be forced to kill you in front of his eyes. Then – he will join me."

She tried to make herself smaller – to disappear in some way.

"It is too late," the Vulcan replied. He grasped her upper arm and dragged her from the bed. He chuckled low in his throat as the woman reacted to the dead body of the nurse on the floor. "Don't worry about her," he cruelly spat out. "You'll soon be joining her."

Amanda whimpered and tried to pull away, but her strength was sapped by the iron grip of the Vulcan.

"Now, let's go meet your son," he said, flipping open a small device on his wrist. "What is his present location?"

Amanda shook her head frantically, but the Vulcan laughed. "I see," he said, pressing several buttons on the mechanism. "You're right – he's probably on the bridge. Thank you for your assistance."

He pressed a corner button and, in a flash, the isolation room was empty - except for the motionless body of Nurse Fields.

-----

“Intruder Alert – Intruder Alert – Intruder Alert –“

Doctor McCoy’s feet, which had been resting comfortable atop his desk, hit the floor in an instant.

“How the hell can there be an intruder alert when we’re in the Solar system?” he grumbled under his breath, entering the main section of sickbay seconds later. He froze at the sight of the empty biobed nearest the door. Two other beds were occupied as they had been before, including the bed of the ambassador.

“Maclean? Fields?” McCoy called out into the darkened sickbay, wondering where his medical staff had disappeared to. Maclean sprinted through the door and nearly into the startled doctor.

“What’s going on?” McCoy demanded. The nurse held up a hand, trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry, Doctor,” the red-headed man said. “I was told that there was a medical situation down in the Auxiliary Transporter Room, but when I got there, the room was empty.”

“Who told you that?”

“It came over the comm., sir,” the nurse insisted. “I was told to go immediately.”

McCoy went to the bedside of his two remaining patients to check their status. “We have got to figure out where – er – “

“His name was Skolk, sir,” Maclean said, staring at the empty bed. “When I left, he was here.”

McCoy shook his head and walked toward the isolation room. “I’m sure he was, but right now…oh, God, get a tricorder…”

“Sir?” the nurse said, grabbing a nearby tricorder and running to the opened door. McCoy was at the side of Nurse Fields checking for a pulse. Maclean stared in horror from the doorframe for a second, but then his professional training came to the forefront and he rapidly made his way over to the stricken woman.

The doctor ran the device over the nurse, but he already knew the end result. He stood, grief clearly evident on his face. “Indications are that she was asphyxiated, but there’s not a mark on her. Where’s Amanda?” Before he even had a chance to alert the bridge, the captain’s voice filled sickbay.

“Doctor McCoy to the bridge immediately…McCoy to the bridge.”

“On my way,” the doctor yelled. “Maclean, get security down here now. Keep an eye on our remaining patients, and don’t let anyone near them.”

McCoy entered the bridge and immediately went to the side of the communications officer, who appeared to be in respiratory distress.

“Jim, what the hell’s going on around here?” the doctor demanded, taking a vial from his medkit and pressing the contents against the arm of the distressed woman. “I’m missing two patients in sickbay and one of my nurses is dead.”

“A Vulcan, or someone who looked Vulcan, appeared out of nowhere with Amanda.” Kirk leaned hard against the bridge rail as he considered the news from the doctor. “He said something to Spock in Vulcan, and Spock sort of – blanched. I’m not sure what he said, but the next thing I know, Uhura is gasping for breath.”

“She’s going to be all right,” McCoy said, relieved to see the woman’s vitals stabilize.

“Spock then moved next to the man, and they disappeared.” Kirk was slowly shaking his head. “I’ve never seen a transporter work like that. The Vulcan touched a device on his wrist.”

“Skolk was wearing some sort of decorative bracelet when he was admitted,” McCoy said, his eyes narrowing. “We just thought it was some customary Vulcan item and put it in a secured drawer next to his bed.”

“Sair?” Scotty said from across the bridge. “I’ve checked for any residual transporter signature, but there’s nothin’ – absolutely nothin’ that would allow us to track where they went.”

“There has to be something, Scotty,” Kirk said, frustration evident in his tone. “How could three people just vanish into thin air?”

“We need to find out more about Skolk,” McCoy maintained, helping Uhura into her chair. “He’s one of Sarek’s Aides, but that’s all I know about him.”

“They’re not on the ship,” Scotty said, turning away from his station. “They must have beamed down to Earth.”

“Where would they have gone?” Kirk asked rhetorically. “Ideas?”

“Maybe the Vulcan Embassy?” Chekov said.

The captain glanced back to the communications officer. “Uhura, do you feel well enough to…”

“I’m fine, sir,” the woman insisted, uncomfortable with all the attention she was earning. “I’ve notified the Vulcan Embassy, and they’re scanning their buildings and those of their consulate offices now.”

“Good,” Kirk said, glad for Vulcan efficiency. “We should know something in a few minutes. In the meantime, where else might they have gone?”

“What about the ambassador’s personal residence?” Sulu offered.

“We’ll ask for a check of the entire grounds,” Kirk agreed.

“Sir, Embassy Security insists that there are no sign of intruders,” Uhura said, lightly touching her earpiece. “They’ve also scanned the residence and the surrounding area, but no one is there.” Kirk slowly turned to face the doctor.

“Is there any safe way for you to wake Sarek?”

“I thought you might ask that,” McCoy somberly replied. “While I’d prefer to let him and the other Vulcan wake naturally, let me see what I can do. Could I see the log playback?”

“That’s a good idea,” Kirk said, giving his communications officer an encouraging look. “Uhura, replay the visual log from the point Skolk and Amanda appeared on the bridge. Activate the universal translator so that we’ll understand what Skolk said to Spock.”

The recording began, and each officer intently scrutinized the events that unfolded on the screen. The segment was less than 20 seconds long, unfolding so rapidly that the sequence was replayed several times before Scotty broke the silence.

“That transportation device may be a clever wee thing, but its beam array must be limited.”

“Yes, I noticed that,” Kirk said, narrowing his eyes in thought. “He had to get Spock closer so that he’d be in range. And what Skolk said to Spock doesn’t surprise me, either.” The warning that he would kill the communications officer if the first officer didn’t leave with him was followed immediately by Uhura’s struggle to breathe. “Spock had no choice but to go.”

McCoy took in a deep breath. “I want Jarris to take a look at the log entry. Amanda’s reaction seemed – wrong.”

Uhura gazed up at the doctor, concern in her dark eyes. “I noticed that, too. She didn’t react to anything that was going on, even when I was under attack.”

“That’s not the same woman I remember who was extremely upset when Sarek had his heart attack in their suite during the Babel conference,” McCoy said. “I don’t believe she would change to the point of not caring.”

“Skolk had a tight grip on her arm,” Sulu remarked, while Chekov nodded in agreement. “Maybe he was preventing her from reacting?”

“Speculation on what Amanda did or didn’t do isn’t helping us to find them,” Kirk curtly said, ending the topic. “Scotty, I want you to continue scanning for any transporter signature. Uhura, check with the Vulcan Embassy to see if there are any other remote locations that they use that Amanda or Spock would know. Bones, see what you can do about the ambassador. We need his help.”

The doctor left the bridge, and Kirk glared at the view screen at the blue planet below. “They’re down there somewhere,” he said almost to himself. “But where?”

-----

Spock sat cross-legged on the floor, intently studying the Vulcan who was pacing back and forth in the barely lit enclosed space. He was male, perhaps thirty five years old, with dark brown hair and eyes that seemed lit with a crazed intensity of purpose. His height was equal to his father’s even as his weight was perhaps twenty kilos more, Spock thought, noticing again the way the man sneered when looking out the window. He was wearing the customary dress of an aide, but instead of the impeccable look associated with a member of the diplomatic corps, this Vulcan appeared acutely uncomfortable in the attire. The distant sound of waves crashing against rocks seemed to put the disgruntled male into an edgy state, which was extremely disconcerting to observe. Spock had never seen such a blatant emotional display by a member of his species, and he found it difficult not to automatically condemn the Vulcan’s control. He glanced over at the occupied cot in the corner of the room. Every instinct within him yearned to go over to his mother, but he could not. What he sensed in the Vulcan was something that he had never read in a member of his species before – a cruelty and ferocity that bordered on insanity. The Vulcan had ordered Spock to remain where he was, and complying seemed the wisest course of action since Spock wasn’t sure that madness was an erroneous term for the stranger.

“Rise, Spock,” the Vulcan imperially ordered, and the first officer stood. He could more clearly scrutinize the bed and the motionless person upon it.

“What you have done is not logical,” Spock began, but the other simply laughed.

“Logic? I am not interested in logic,” the Vulcan said. “I am interested in conquest.”

Spock blinked in surprise. “Conquest?”

“Yes,” the Vulcan said, walking over to the cot. He suddenly spun around. “You don’t like it when I approach her. Why?”

The first officer raised an eyebrow even as he immediately erected stronger mental shields. He had to be careful not to project anything that could be used against himself or his mother. “You are aware of our relationship to each other,” he said, allowing the other to gloat.

“Of course,” the Vulcan proudly said. “That is why you are here.” Spock slightly cleared his throat.

“I believe introductions are in order.”

The Vulcan chuckled low. “Ah, yes. You don’t know who I am. I know a great deal about you, though. Spock, cha’Sarek, cha’Skon, first surviving hybrid between a Vulcan and an inferior species.”

Spock said nothing. He had been correct – he didn’t dare show any objection to the treatment of his mother. The stranger did not consider humans worthy of any consideration or respect, and his best course of action was to remain dispassionate until such a time as he could act – or was forced to act.

“You know me,” Spock said. “Who are you?”

“I am Narven, First Son of Vellr,” the Vulcan replied, his expression changing to delight at the recognition in the others eyes. “You know of me? Then my name must have survived into this future time.”

Spock gathered himself quickly, hiding behind a mask of neutrality. “Yes, you are known to me.” He didn’t expound upon the reason for his knowledge.

Narven was known as one of the most diabolical members of the J’Varem, a Pre-Reform militaristic group banded together with the sole purpose of using Vulcan mind techniques to subjugate the population. While not Mind Lords themselves, they had been taught methods of psychic and physical exploitation that had been banned on Vulcan for centuries. Spock was familiar with Narven due to the utter revulsion expressed by his instructors at his methodology. During his time at Gol, Spock had learned of several members of the J’Varem who had sought to further their own tyranny by attempting to overthrow their masters. Narven had come close in his short life to reaching the level of Mind Lord, but had been betrayed and murdered by a member of his own clan.

“It is cold on this world,” Narven complained, angrily glaring at Spock. “Go build a fire.”

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “I will need to gather wood,” he said, curious to see if the crazed male would let him leave.

“No,” Narven growled. He strode toward the cot and Spock felt his breath catch in his throat as the Vulcan roughly pulled Amanda up. She barely had time to get her balance before being pushed toward her son. “Fuel gathering is the job of the weak.”

“She cannot carry enough to heat the entire cabin,” Spock levelly said, hoping that he could convince Narven to let him go with his mother. She was so ashen that he feared she might faint. “Allow me to accompany her and…”

“No,” the Vulcan said, his eyes glowing with a strange light. “Do you think me a fool? She will have to make several trips, but you are not to leave.”

Spock could merely watch as Narven ordered Amanda to gather wood and return as quickly as possible. He could not tell his mother’s state of mind, but it troubled him when she returned after several minutes with an armload of wood. She had a splendid opportunity to escape – unless she believed that she could not for fear that his life would be in danger. It was most exasperating to only be able to guess at motivations without more information.

“Tell me of your childhood,” Narven demanded. Spock stared at him, confused by the odd request.

“Why would my childhood be of interest to you?” he reasonable asked. Amanda reentered the cabin, and Narven dismissively pointed toward the wood pile stacked near the fireplace.

“I find the thought of a Vulcan becoming involved with an inferior creature disgusting,” Narven explained. He smiled at the immobile façade presented by the Vulcan before him. “You suffered the brunt of your father’s ill considered choice. Your childhood must have been most painful for you.”

“It was no more painful than most,” Spock said. It occurred to him that Narven could have selected any location from his or his mother’s memory to beam down, and yet he himself didn’t recognize the cabin or the surrounding landscape. Spock believed it was along the Atlantic Coast, but it must have been from a time in his mother’s life before his birth since he knew she would never consider such a cold, unwelcoming place a decent holiday spot for Vulcans. The thought gave him a much needed boost in optimism – she had very likely thrust the cabin’s location to the forefront of her mind when Narven searched for a beam down point, and he had selected it. Perhaps his mother hoped to show the crazed Vulcan that Earth was not a hospitable place for a desert born person.

“I also had a pain-free childhood,” Narven said, his tone deriding Spock’s pronouncement. “I was the first born son, and early in my life I determined that I would remain foremost in my parents’ thoughts. When I was eight, my sister was born. She died only days after arriving home.” The Vulcan grinned maliciously. “Sad, isn’t it? Another son died when I was ten. It was then that I knew I had a gift – a gift to manipulate the physical states of others. I could cause death simply by wishing it. When I was twelve, I killed my parents – purely as an exercise. It was a glorious feeling to be free of them.”

Spock was grateful that he had his back to the Vulcan as he built the fire. It was impossible for him to hide his repulsion at such a confession. Narven was truly a Pre-Reform monster, but how were he and his mother to escape?

“You have nothing to say?” Narven asked. “You aren’t curious to know how the death skill is developed?”

“No,” Spock softly replied, unsure of the steadiness of his voice.

“I sense the ability in you,” the Vulcan said, not surprised when the kneeling officer sharply looked up at him.

“I do not, nor have I ever, employed such a despicable technique.”

“I didn’t say you ever had,” Narven said. Amanda had sat down on the cot, and without warning, Narven strode to the cot and pulled her to her feet. Spock immediately stood.

“A standoff?” the Vulcan said with a laugh. “You would risk your valuable life for one like this?”

“Why torment her?” Spock queried, quite aware that his mother had yet to even look up. “If she means so little to you, why waste your time with her?”

“Because she is important to you,” Narven coolly replied, smiling. “You see, I need proof that you are willing to join me in the takeover of this planet.”

“You do not understand the scope of what you are proposing,” Spock said, staring at Amanda. He practically willed her to look up. He knew from conversations with his father that she had self-defense lessons based on several scenarios – including kidnapping and forcible abduction. Why she seemed unable to recall her training…

“She can’t,” Narven said, answering the interrupted thought.

“What do you mean?” Spock asked, his voice betraying his dismay at being read so easily.

“I’ve kept her very close to me,” he replied, leaning toward her. She didn’t react. “It was a very entertaining time for me when I watched the shuttle take off. Your father was quite distressed that he had to leave his wife behind.”

Spock blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I forced the shuttle to take off and kept Amanda by my side. She was quite upset – crying – such an emotional scene.” Narven chuckled. “Then, enemy forces began to fire upon the ship at just the moment I completed my planned escape.”

“What did you do?” Spock asked, intrigued despite his growing belief that he and his mother were in even greater danger than he had previously thought.

“Amanda and I beamed aboard the shuttle thanks to my transport device – a useful thing I stole from a scientist just before I killed him. The ship was damaged quite severely, not to mention the widespread injuries of those already aboard.”

“You beamed aboard after the attack?” Spock said, clarifying the Vulcan’s statement.

“Did I not just say that?” Narven angrily replied. “Once on board, I began to search for information. I started with the pilot, who was close to death. I ‘helped’ her find the peace she sought. I moved slowly throughout the cabin – one by one – searching…”

“You raped the minds of others for information,” Spock said, each word dripping with contempt.

“If you want to call it rape, so be it,” Narven said, shrugging. “The word means nothing to me. I knew who would be the last – and she knew it, too. That was the beauty of it – I was curious…”

“Curious of what?” Spock asked, wishing the other didn’t still have his mother in his grasp.

“I wondered if it would be possible to scare someone to death.”

Spock felt the color drain from his face.

“It was an amusing experiment for me,” Narven explained. “I got what information I could from each meld, and moved to the next person. When I found that one of the Aides was of the same blood type as me and of a similar build, I ordered him to exchange clothes. I opened the shuttle door and threw him out in mid-flight. It was quite a thrill… Closer – and closer I moved – until I could see the terror in her eyes. That’s when your father made a mistake.”

“A – mistake?” Spock repeated.

“Oh, yes,” the other said, hatred now threading his spiteful tone. “I had let Amanda go when I changed clothes. She was next to your father when he stole some of the fun I was having by performing a meld on Amanda himself. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but suddenly, they were both in agony and had fallen to the deck. I can only assume that he was clearing from her mind anything that would be useful to me – or so he thought. My meld with him was interrupted by the loss of consciousness caused by the jump to this future time.”

“My father melded with my mother,” Spock said, a dreadful feeling settling low in his stomach. He could not blame Sarek for his action – it was logical to examine the circumstances presented and to act accordingly. Narven was from a time before the enactment of bonding children at the age of seven. He would not understand, or would misinterpret, such a bond. And yet…

It was becoming more evident to Spock what his mother suffered from, and he had no way to help. She and his father would desperately need the services of a healer – one specializing in Vulcan marital bonds.

Especially, a healer experienced in tending to those bonds that had been broken.

-----

The captain entered sickbay, immediately striding up to the biobed the doctor stood beside. A weary nod from their VIP patient greeted him.

“Ambassador Sarek, if there were another way…”

“Do not apologize, Kirk,” the Vulcan said, his tired, but sharp, eyes carefully taking in the human. “The cause is more than sufficient. Doctor McCoy has informed me of the abduction of my wife and son.”

“Yes,” the captain said, thankful for the no-nonsense approach of Vulcans. “We have been trying to trace Spock’s implanted transponder, but there are a number of Starfleet members with the same code currently planetside and we have to eliminate their signals first.”

“It may be more beneficial to track Amanda,” the Vulcan said, raising an eyebrow at the surprised look the captain gave him. “She also has a transponder due to the security requirements of the Vulcan diplomatic corp.”

“If you have that code,” Kirk began, but Sarek had already acquired a stylus and padd from the doctor and wrote down the needed information. “I’ll get it to Uhura and Scotty since they’re working together to track them.”

“It would be logical to assume that if two transponder signals are found in close proximity to each other, then they would belong to those we seek,” Sarek said. The Vulcan appeared to sag somewhat, and Kirk could see the strain of the events beginning to weigh on the ambassador.

“S'haile, if I may be of assistance,” a male voice said.

The captain hadn’t even realized that the man lying in the biobed next to Sarek was awake.

“There is nothing that can be done at this time, Surnn,” Sarek quietly said.

Kirk sat down in a chair between the two Vulcans. “Sarek, why would your aide suddenly turn violent?”

“My – aide?” Sarek repeated, confusion evident in his baritone voice.

“Skolk,” the captain said, equally confused. “Isn’t that his name?”

“Kirk, you have made a mistake, though through no fault of your own. Skolk was killed by a demented Vulcan,” Sarek said, his eyes narrowing in memory. “The person you seek is completely mad.”

The captain matched the grave look of the ambassador. “How did such a person get on the shuttle?”

“Perhaps it would be advantageous to start from the beginning,” Sarek offered, glancing up as Jarris entered. Kirk waved the psychologist over as the ambassador began to speak.

“Our shuttle was within visual range of Earth when our entire grid system began to fluctuate. A mere .093 seconds later, the shuttle’s gravitational system failed. Fortunately we were on planetary approach at the time and everyone was securely seated. A distortion filled the screen, and from its appearance, I would conclude that we were pulled into a temporal wormhole. Due to its proximity to Earth, may I assume that the phenomenon is under intense scrutiny?”

“Yes,” Kirk agreed. “I think every astrophysicist in the universe has been contacted about it.”

“What makes you believe it was a wormhole?” McCoy asked, listening while checking the overhead monitors.

“The visual clues and the distortion pattern,” Sarek replied, his eyebrow raised slightly. “I have attended numerous advanced courses in astrophysics, Doctor.”

“Oh,” McCoy said sheepishly. “Never mind…”

“Earth disappeared from the screen, and was replaced by the orange-red horizon of Vulcan. We were in freefall, but T’Ea’al was able to correct our course and glided the shuttle to a relatively smooth landing without incident.” Sarek searched the sickbay for a moment, and McCoy answered his silent query.

“Her injuries were lethal,” the doctor sympathetically said. The Vulcan’s brow creased, and a moment passed before he continued.

“Our sensor readings appeared to be incorrect; however, we swiftly discovered that we were, indeed, in Vulcan’s past - approximately 2,103 Earth years in the past – near the city of Shi’Kahr. The atmosphere and soil samples gathered and log entries made will confirm our rather fantastic claim and should prove to be of great scientific interest.”

“Sarek, Spock was able to pick up only trace elements in and on the shuttle itself. I’m afraid that the samples collected and the log entries were destroyed – deliberately,” Kirk informed him. The Vulcan took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

“I had hoped that his abilities did not extend to such a degree.”

“He who?” McCoy asked sharply. “I mean – just who the hell is this guy?”

“His name is Narven, and he was – is – one of the most nefarious Vulcans who ever lived,” Sarek answered, his dark eyes hooded in memory.

“Oh, lovely,” McCoy grumbled. “You couldn’t have run into a bunch of Pre-Reform pacifists?”

Sarek’s right eyebrow threatened to disappear into his hairline.

“Bones, that’s enough,” Kirk said, grimacing at the doctor’s dark humor. “It’s pretty obvious that this – Narven – character is not like any Vulcan we’ve ever encountered before.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure about that,” McCoy archly replied. He could distinctly remember Spock behaving in a not-very-modern-Vulcan-like manner when they had been trapped by the Atavachron in Sarpeidon’s past (TOS All Our Yesterdays).

“When Narven first arrived, he seemed harmless and merely curious about our presence,” Sarek said, ignoring the doctor’s cynicism. “However, after a systems analysis determined that the shuttle was not seriously damaged, he suddenly changed his peaceful demeanor and ordered us to stay. His plasma weapon was one I recognized from historical records as a most vicious, accurate killer, and he was not hesitant about threatening to use it.”

“When did he board the shuttle?” Jarris asked.

“He ordered us to allow him onboard. When we refused, he pointed the weapon at Amanda and demanded that she remain. Naturally, I could not permit that.”

“Naturally,” the captain agreed. Sarek paused, directing his thoughts to what happened next.

“A sensation of suffocation suddenly struck the Vulcans in the diplomatic party, including myself. It was most distressing to us, but it was far worse for Amanda. She begged Narven to stop, believing that he was somehow controlling the attack. It ended as suddenly as it began. He ordered Amanda over to his side, and she went before I could recover enough from the assault to stop her. At that point, he ordered us to leave.” The Vulcan paused again.

“Did Narven say why he wanted Amanda to stay?” Jarris asked.

“He did not. Were I to speculate, I would say that he wished to frighten her with the belief that she would be left behind. He knew that he could transport to the shuttle at any time and he had no intention of remaining on the planet’s surface.”

The sound of an incoming message sounded though sickbay, and Kirk went to answer the call.

“Scotty, Uhura, what do you have?” he asked.

“Sir, we were able to track two transponders to a remote location along the Eastern Seaboard of North America,” a soft feminine voice replied.

“Sarek, are you aware of any places along the coast that might be known to either Spock or Amanda?” the captain asked. Sarek nodded.

“Amanda’s family has many connections in that region of Earth. Based on the limited description given, I believe that they are at a cabin that belonged to my wife’s Grandfather. Amanda and I stayed there - once.”

Something in his tone made McCoy’s mouth quirk up. “I take it the cabin wasn’t very pleasant?”

The Vulcan sat up a bit straighter. “It was not. We arrived in late January in the middle of a blizzard. Amanda claimed it was merely something she called a ‘flurry’ - typical weather for that time of year. The offered accoutrements were extremely primitive. Fortunately, one of my wife’s brothers had left some wood inside, or we would not have even had a fire to keep us warm.”

“Sounds pretty bleak,” Jarris said. McCoy chuckled, and Sarek’s eyes cut toward him.

“Is something amusing, Doctor?” the Vulcan asked. McCoy shrugged, forcing his mouth into a straight line.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m just wondering why Amanda would ever think to take you, a Vulcan, to such a cold place in the dead of winter.”

“I am not aware of any motives other than to show me a place where she vacationed as a child,” Sarek said, his tone indicating that it was time to drop the subject. Jarris and Kirk found it hard not to smile as they considered some of the very human motivations Amanda might have had for taking her husband to the isolated cabin.

“Right,” Kirk said, ending the conversation even as he felt adrenaline beginning to course through him at the impending rescue. “We’ll need a detailed map of the area, and – “

“Sair?”

Kirk looked up at the interruption. “What is it, Scotty?” he said in the direction of the disembodied voice coming from the comm. unit.

“Sair, we’ve been informed by the Vulcan Embassy that they are sending their Security forces to the East Coast location.”

“Tell them to cease the operation immediately,” Sarek commanded, loud enough for the Engineer to hear. “The situation is far too volatile at this time to attempt a rescue.”

The captain’s expression changed to surprise. “Ambassador, we have to go in there and get Amanda and Spock out. You’ve already said that Narven is a madman.”

“That is correct,” Sarek replied, his tone willing the other man to understand. “A madman with the ability to kill with a thought. That is why we struggled to breath. Were it not for Amanda’s plea, the entire Vulcan entourage on the shuttle would have died.”

“Then, what do you suggest we do?” Kirk asked, frustrated. The Vulcan calmly looked at him.

“We must determine by sensor sweep if Amanda and Spock are still alive. The discovery of their transponders does not necessarily mean that they live. If they do live, then we must give them the opportunity to escape without intervention.”

“Spoken like a true Vulcan,” McCoy mumbled, but the captain cut him off with an upheld hand.

“You’re right, Mr. Ambassador,” Kirk said, changing to a more formal mode. “We need to discover who is really down there. Spock’s training should give him the upper hand. While I’d prefer to attempt to extract them now, it might be best to allow Spock some time to see if he can immobilize Narven.”

“Sir, would there be any reason for Amanda to be xenophobic?” Jarris asked Sarek. The unexpected question seemed to puzzle the Vulcan.

“No, Amanda is not xenophobic,” he replied, his attention drawn to the frown on Doctor McCoy’s face. “Why would you ask such a question?”

“Well, sir,” Jarris said nervously, “she became very agitated at the sight of Spock when he entered the isolation room where she was being observed – screamed, in fact. You are aware that she was the only one in the shuttle who was not unconscious when we boarded?”

Sarek was momentarily taken off guard by the psychologist’s assessment. “How could I be?” he asked, irritation lacing his words. McCoy shook his head.

“Ambassador Sarek, I think Dr. Jarris wants to know if there would be a reason for Amanda to fear Spock, or Vulcans, in some way,” the doctor said, knowing how insane his question must sound to a Vulcan married to a human. “I mean, from what you’ve told us, she certainly should be afraid of Narven.”

“Wait a minute,” Jarris said, his eyes bright with sudden clarity. “I don’t think she was afraid of Spock at all.”

“What do you mean?” Kirk asked.

“She only became hysterical when she saw Spock,” Jarris explained, his right leg bouncing at the sudden insight. “No one else – just him. It’s possible that she wasn’t afraid of him – she was afraid for him.”

“Why?” McCoy posed, shaking his head. “Why would she be afraid for Spock? He can take care of himself.”

“Perhaps not, Doctor,” Sarek said, his jaw line tight with tension. “Narven was able to gain access to our minds through the use of force. I could sense his intolerance of a union between Vulcan and human; however, even more than that was his altered view of familial models. He killed his parents and siblings when he was but a child.”

“Killed them?” Kirk said, horrified by the thought. “Then, why do you think he kidnapped Spock and Amanda?”

“You don’t think…” McCoy began, the sickening idea forming before he could stop it.

“I am not certain, Doctor,” Sarek said, holding fast to his Vulcan composure. “However, I believe it is imperative that we monitor carefully those in the cabin before…” His sentence trailed off, and Kirk took in a deep breath before he finished it.

“Before Spock is ordered to kill his mother by someone who can kill them both with a thought.”

Silence reigned for several seconds before the ambassador turned to McCoy.

“Doctor, there is another important dynamic of the kidnapping that I must address with you.”

“Oh?” the doctor said, surprised that Sarek would single him out. “Some medical problem?”

“Yes,” the Vulcan replied. McCoy raised his chin toward the door.

“Jim, if you don’t mind giving us a moment…”

“It is not necessary for the captain to leave,” Sarek said.

“You said it had to do with the kidnapping?” Kirk asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“It has to do with events that occurred on the shuttle,” the Vulcan replied. He again paused to carefully consider what to say. “Our navigator had just discovered another temporal rift quite near our original entry point. She requested that we board quickly in order to take advantage of the opening and possibly return to our time. Narven overheard her and again demanded that we leave.”

“Amanda was still with him on the surface?” McCoy asked. He could see the tell-tale signs of control being exerted before the Vulcan answered.

“She was. Our belief was that we could depart and then attempt to isolate her signal to transport her aboard.”

“The shuttle has transporter capabilities?” Kirk asked, impressed. Sarek shrugged.

“It is only to be used for emergencies, but we believed that we could retrieve her before Narven could react. That is not what happened.”

“He was caught in the signal when you beamed her up?” Jarris guessed.

“No,” the ambassador said. “Instead, as the shuttle began its accent, Narven began to fire his plasma weapon into the hills near our landing site. We did not understand his action until we were hit with return plasma blasts that engulfing the shuttle. Our shields were down since we planned to use the transporter.”

Kirk winced. “Narven may not have even realized that the shuttle was at its most vulnerable point.”

“Two point six seconds after the blast, he beamed aboard with Amanda using a wrist transporter of a design I am unfamiliar with,” Sarek said. “The shuttle was badly damaged, and those onboard were incapacitated in some way. Narven kept Amanda next to him in an unyielding hold. He ordered T’Ea’al to plot a course into the temporal rift. It was at that moment that Narven swept past her to the pilot’s position. I could not clearly observe what he was doing; however, I heard him inform Amanda that she was about to witness his ‘powers’.”

“The pilot was alive?” McCoy asked, shocked. “We thought she died when the shuttle was struck by plasma fire?”

“She was seriously injured, but alive,” the Vulcan explained. “Narven aggressively forced a mind meld upon T’Vres. She could not protect herself.” Sarek’s eyes became distant. “Amanda was still in his grasp, and she again begged him to stop. Perhaps it was a faulty impression, but she seemed to be able to sense the effect the violent attack had on the pilot. She became hysterical as T’Vres slumped forward.”

“Narven forced her to watch him kill,” Jarris whispered. “Not just to watch, but to actually feel it happening.”

“Yes,” Sarek quietly replied. “He moved from person to person, forcing the meld – gathering more information as he went. And in each case, he kept Amanda next to him. He needed to keep T’Ea’al alive since she was the navigator. The other female assistants were treated in the same manner as T’Vres. Narven intentionally killed them.”

Jarris shivered. “To be forced to watch such a direct violation of a person must have been horrifying. Amanda couldn’t fight him, and he knew it.”

“Narven made the comment after the melds that some of those present had psychic bonds to others. He stated that he would like to examine such ‘odd ties’.” Sarek frowned slightly. “Shortly thereafter, he realized that he would have difficulties explaining his presence onboard once we returned to our time. It was then that he ordered Skolk to exchange clothes with him. I observed Narven pressing his fingertips against his own forehead to mimic the pattern of a meld. It was obvious that he planned to take Skolk’s place.”

“He killed the aide to steal his identity,” Kirk said, the insight causing him to shake his head. “The bastard wasn’t going to stop at anything, was he?”

“He was determined to come with us to our time,” Sarek replied. “It was when he was changing clothes that he released his grip on Amanda. She very carefully made her way over to me.”

“Was that when Skolk was killed?” Jarris asked.

“Yes,” Sarek said, his sonorous voice low. “Skolk attempted to fight, but he was incapacitated by Narven and physically thrown out of the shuttle in mid-flight.”

“God, what a monster,” McCoy fiercely said.

“I cannot contest your assessment, Doctor,” the Vulcan replied. “After Skolk was killed, Narven began to slowly make his way to the back of the shuttle, his manner that of a lematya stalking its prey. Amanda and I had retreated to the rear section of the shuttle. I could sense Amanda’s fear escalating, and then Narven stopped. He closed his eyes and seemed to be seeking answers to the psychic emanations that he sensed. He began to move forward again, and I made a decision – one that I now regret.”

“What decision was that?” Jarris quietly asked.

“I pulled Amanda to me and, without explanation, initiated a meld with her. I am not certain of your knowledge of Vulcans, Doctor,” Sarek said, directing his query to the psychologist.

“I’ve been versed in the basics, and I do understand some of the more – sensitive – matters that might affect a Vulcan,” Jarris replied, taking in a nervous gulp of air.

“Then you are aware of psychic bondings between married individuals,” the Vulcan inquired. Jarris and the others in the room nodded. “I sensed that Narven wanted to discover more about it, and his disposition was such that I believed he would use force to determine how such bonds are established. There was no time to explain to my wife what I was endeavoring to do…”

“What did you try to do?” McCoy asked, his tone hushed.

“I attempted to instigate a mental shield that would prevent Narven’s infringement upon the bond,” Sarek explained, his features pained with memory. “Instead, due to the speed at which I followed the neural pathways, the bonding faltered. Such melds cannot be done hurriedly without injury, and Amanda instinctively fought to preserve the bond. It was, unfortunately, the worst scenario that could have happened since my mind sought out the resistance and reacted to ‘end’ it. What ended instead was the bonding.”

“I’m – sorry to hear that,” the captain finally said after the initial shock wore off. “But it can be reestablished, can’t it?”

For a fleeting moment, Sarek seemed at a loss for what to say. “It may be possible, but only a healer would be able to make that assessment,” he said, barely audible. McCoy glanced over at Jim, who wore a similarly pained expression. The Comm unit sounded throughout sickbay.

“McCoy here,” the doctor said.

“Doctor, is the Cap’n still there?” Scotty asked, worry evident in his brogue.

“Scotty, what’s going on?” Kirk requested, moving closer to the wall panel.

“Sair, we contacted the Vulcan Embassy to warn them not to send anyone to the cabin,” the Engineer replied. “They told us that it was too late. Three members of their elite Security force had already beamed into the area.”

“Damn, of all the time for efficiency,” the captain fumed. “Were they able to rescue Spock and Amanda?”

“I’m sure they wished they had,” Scotty said, his voice filled with emotion. “The Embassy has lost all contact with them. Sensor readings around the cabin indicate no life. We have verified that there are three living beings in the cabin itself.”

“Narven has killed three members of an elite squad,” Sarek ominously said. “He will not think twice about killing should anyone else approach.”

“Then, we have to wait,” the captain said. He wasn’t surprised by the feeling of dark melancholy that filled the room.

-----

“End this now,” Spock said, completely aware of how insufficient his order was.

“I shall end it when we are in power,” Narven replied. He still held onto Amanda’s arm as before, but suddenly, he began to laugh.

“Fools,” he mockingly said toward the window. Spock barely saw the glimpse of dark green clothing disappear behind a spruce tree.

“Narven, allow us to leave, and…”

“Never!” the Vulcan yelled, closing his eyes in concentration. Spock watched the nightmare unfold as first one – then another – body fell to the ground in the woods. A third Vulcan, further from the others, slowly crumpled to the ground after nearly a minute of clawing the air.

“Narven, stop this madness,” Spock demanded, sickened by the way the other smiled. “You cannot hope to rule from a position of fear.”

“I can do whatever I wish,” the Vulcan replied. “In fact, it is time for me to do something that I’ve wanted to do since first setting eyes on this inferior creature.” Narven leaned down and whispered something too low even for Vulcan hearing into Amanda’s ear. She tightly closed her eyes for a moment, but then snapped them back open. Without a word, she left the cabin.

“Mother, stop,” Spock said, hoping his barked order would break whatever hold Narven had over her. “Mother, listen to me…”

“She only wants to save you,” Narven sneered. The cabin door remained open, and the madman did nothing when Spock fled from the cabin to catch up with Amanda, who was heading toward the high cliff area that dropped several hundred meters to the ocean below.

With his longer stride, Spock was able to get to his mother just as she reached the ledge.

“Mother, listen to me,” he said, grabbing her arm. She surprised him by crumbling to the ground at his feet. Narven’s approach was marked by the sounds of derisive laughter.

“Whatever he told you to do, it will not save us,” Spock said, crouching down next to the unmoving woman. “We can return to the cabin and wait for rescue.”

“There will not be a rescue,” Narven said, grinning at the pitiful scene of the defeated pair. “She will do as I ordered, or I will kill you now.”

With unnatural strength, Amanda suddenly pulled away from Spock. She didn’t hesitate as she stumbled to the edge of the cliff and disappeared over its side.

“NO!” Spock shouted, vainly trying to reach his mother, but it was too late. He swayed slightly under the numbing shock of what had just occurred before his eyes. She hadn’t even slowed to reconsider her desperate act. A sound – cruel and scornful - assaulted his ears, and Spock turned to the source.

“How dutifully maternal!” Narven exclaimed after a round of laughter, gleefully noting the abhorrence on the others face. “I thought she’d at least say goodbye.”

“You murdered her,” Spock said, letting the words burn bright in his mind. “You killed my mother.”

“Suicide,” the madman insisted, shrugging off the accusation. “I didn’t push her off the cliff. She went voluntarily.”

“Murderer,” Spock said, half-growling out the charge. He started to advance on the other Vulcan, but stopped when his action only seemed to increase the amusement exhibited.

“I have held that title for years,” Narven lightly replied, smiling at the pain so palpably visible on the others face. “Modern Vulcans only have a pretense of control – which I’m beginning to understand. Soon, I will – “

Narven stopped his tirade, closing his eyes and focusing on a fleeting thought. Slowly, his eyes opened.

“Who was Dan?” he asked.

Spock filled his mind with the image his mother had described to him years ago. “He was my uncle,” the Vulcan said, allowing his grief to escalate. “I believe you know what happened to him.”

“So, he killed himself by leaping to his death from this very location,” Narven said, marveling at the intense hatred he felt directed at him. “Very good – I now understand why your mother selected this spot. She wanted to join her brother.”

“She did not,” Spock rasped out, not controlling the raging emotions that swirled within.

“It does not matter,” the madman said, deliberately stepping closer to the edge of the cliff. “I have no doubt that she knew what she was doing.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, moving with catlike stealth to stand behind the other. “I believe that she did know what she was doing.”

Narven whirled around, grinning maliciously. “Do not stand behind me,” he ordered, glaring at the Vulcan. “I am not a fool. Do you believe that you can push me off this cliff? You wish revenge, do you not?”

“No,” Spock said, his voice shaking with emotion. “Such a desire to kill is not logical.”

“I can change your mind,” Narven said, a low rumbling chuckle increasing the despair he felt from the other. “I can do many things and…” He gasped in astonishment as tightness filled his chest and forced the air from his lungs.

“You will do nothing,” Spock snarled, not hiding his fury. “The only thing you will do is – die.”

“Yes, focus your anger on me,” Narven whispered, barely able to maintain an open airway. He watched the other blanch in recognition of what he had just done.

“No!” Spock cried out, turning away to gather his traumatized thoughts. Narven greedily took in a lungful of air as the first officer released him from the psychic assault. “No, I will not shame my mother’s memory by killing you.”

“Then it is true – modern Vulcans have been weakened by their association with humans.”

Spock sighed heavily - defeated. “If that is what you believe.”

“It is,” Narven sharply replied, moving ever closer to the cliff edge. He was less than a meter from the drop-off. “It is a shame that the bravery exhibited by your mother resulted in her death. I sensed that –“

Suddenly, Narven turned back toward Spock, his face a mask of rage. “Deception? What have—?”

But it was too late. Spock was close enough to feel the radiating heat emanated by the phaser fire that struck the broad-chested Vulcan, vaporizing him instantly. The first officer didn’t spare a glance in the direction of the Starfleet officers who burst from the woods as he ran and dropped to the ground at the cliff’s edge.

“Mother?” he yelled, loud enough to be heard over the crashing waves below. The cliff dropped three meters straight down, but a narrow ledge jutted out from the rocky wall – just the way she had described it to him years earlier. Spock could see his mother on the ledge, pressed hard against the cliff wall. He couldn’t tell if she was injured, but assumed that she wasn’t based on how she had been able to sit up with her legs pulled to her chest. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her drawn up limbs.

“Spock, where’s Amanda?” Kirk asked as he approached, fearing the answer. He dropped next to his first officer and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Amanda?” he called out, hoping to see her look up, but she remained still.

After carefully relaying what was about to happen to the unresponsive person below, Kirk and Spock watched as Amanda disappeared into the sparkle of the transporter beam.

“She’ll be back in sickbay under the doctor’s care in no time,” Kirk said. He gave his friend an encouraging look. “I’m sure she’ll be all right.”

“Yes,” Spock replied softly. “I am somewhat – troubled - by her lack of response to our rescue. She clearly knew what she was doing when she jumped.”

“How did you keep Narven from knowing we were in the woods?”

“It was not easy,” Spock admitted. “I allowed an entirely emotional response that was – most unpleasant – to overwhelm my usual controls. Narven wanted such a reaction, and that is what I gave to him.”

Kirk shook his head in admiration. “Overall, though, I never would have thought your mother would have done such a thing.”

“She was obviously desperate,” the Vulcan said, wondering at the captain’s statement.

“Or, she was truly convinced that Narven was going to kill you if she didn’t take matters into her hands.” The captain gave his officer an appraising look. “So, you didn’t know about the ledge?”

“I realized only after my mother jumped that this was the location she had once described to me,” Spock explained. “She told me of an occasion when she was a child and her brother, Daniel, decided to execute a practical joke on their parents. He tried to convince Mother to join in his scheme, but she refused due to something she referred to as ‘playing the well-behaved child’.”

“What did he do?” Kirk asked.

“He had discovered the cliff ledge, and when he was certain that both his parents were watching from the cabin, he ran and jumped from the cliff. My Grandmother fainted, and, once the reality of the joke became known, Uncle Daniel was quite severely punished.”

Kirk chuckled in spite of himself. “Sounds like something I would have done as a kid.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Indeed,” he drolly replied. “Of that I have no doubt.”

The captain gave his first officer a slight double-take as the beam took them from the planet’s surface back to the Enterprise.

-----

“Captain, if I may ask a question?” Spock asked from his position next to the science console. Several hours had passed since they had returned to the ship.

“Certainly, Spock – ask away.”

“Sir, are you aware of any historical ramifications that might have occurred due to the death of Narven in our time?”

Kirk had been expecting the question. “We had Lieutenant Jamara get detailed information about Narven from the Vulcan historical records prior to beaming down. The only information available from that time was that he was killed by a member of his clan. His remains were never found. We decided to take a chance and kill him here. Even Sarek agreed that Narven was far too dangerous to attempt to capture.”

“Interesting,” Spock said, his left eyebrow slowly ascending. “Then the historical record is correct.”

“In what way?” the captain asked, puzzled.

“Narven is a member of the Hgrtcha Talek-sen-deen clan – my clan.”

Kirk’s eyes widened. “So, when Sarek gave permission to use force…”

“It was as the record states,” Spock said, finishing the sentence. “A member of Narven’s clan killed him.”

“So, with any luck, we haven’t changed a thing,” the captain said. The sound of a message alert filled the bridge. “Kirk here.”

“Jim, this is McCoy. Is Spock there?”

“I am, Doctor,” the first officer replied immediately.

“Could you come down here for a minute? I have someone here who wants to talk with you.”

Spock turned to the captain, who was already motioning for him to leave. “Go on, Spock,” the captain urged, and the Vulcan left the bridge.

“Bones, is Amanda doing better?” the captain inquired.

“Quite a bit better, thanks to Jarris,” McCoy replied.

Kirk sat back in surprise. “Really? I’m pleased to hear that he was able to help.”

“Yeah, well, he’s kind of a nervous fellow, but he does seem to be able to build a trusting rapport between himself and his patients.” McCoy paused to clear his throat. “Amanda has been able to relay some of what she remembers, although a lot seems to be lost to her.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” the captain quietly said.

“I agree,” the doctor said, his voice just above a whisper. “Jarris believes that a Vulcan healer will need to be consulted for the psychic damage Narven inflicted. There are a few on Earth, but they’re recommending a specialist on Vulcan. Sarek said that they’ll be returning home just as soon as Amanda can travel.” The sound of a door opening ended their conversation. “McCoy out.”

Jim Kirk sat back in his command chair, silently considering the events of the past day. Federation scientists were puzzled by the surprising appearance of the temporal rift but believed that it didn’t pose a serious threat to the solar system. Its relatively small size and signs of closure were being kept under constant surveillance. Estimates were that the rift would disappear in less than a week.

Kirk swept his eyes around the bridge, noting the efficient running of each station. With any luck, they would be reassigned to a new mission within a few weeks. Starfleet was keeping quiet about future missions, and dealing with the red tape they would throw his way wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

Subtlety wasn’t his strong suit. That he would leave to the diplomats – if they could keep themselves out of trouble.

-----

Spock entered sickbay expecting his mother’s usual reaction – a warm smile and the traditional greeting for family. Instead, Drs Jarris and McCoy stood waiting for him, blocking his view of the biobeds.

“Spock, glad you could come down here,” McCoy quietly said, noting the confusion in the Vulcan’s eyes. “I know this is somewhat unorthodox, but we wanted to prevent you from barging in.”

“I do not ‘barge in’, Doctor,” Spock replied, curious at the men’s accusation.

“Sir, it’s just that we wanted to give Amanda – er, your mother – some time to acclimate herself to seeing you again,” Jarris explained.

“I do not understand,” Spock quietly said. “I was with my mother when Narven took us.”

“That’s true, but she was in some sort of – confused state,” McCoy explained, hoping he could break the news gently. “She really believed that you were going to die if she saw you again. The problem is…”

“Sir, I’m afraid that the fear still exists,” Jarris offered, cutting his eyes over to his mentor. “Doctor McCoy and I are confident that Amanda will recover in time, but we wanted to cautiously let her know that you were well.”

“How will that be accomplished?” the Vulcan asked. He could just see past McCoy’s shoulder to an occupied bed in the far corner of sickbay. Sarek’s assistant, Surnn, had been released earlier in the day, leaving only one patient.

“I’ve already let Amanda know that you would be here,” Jarris began, glancing over his shoulder toward the bed. “You’ll need to remain standing here. Just talk… She may need a few minutes to settle her nerves, but she really does want to see you.”

“Yes, I do,” a soft voice from the corner said. Spock could hear the sharper undertone in his mother’s voice – she never did care to be talked ‘around’, as she said.

“We’ll leave you two alone then,” Jarris said, a corner of his mouth lifting as he also recognized the tone. “Amanda, if you need us, we’ll be in Doctor McCoy’s office.”

“Thank you, Doctors.”

The two doctors left, leaving Spock standing next to the door. Several awkward moments passed before Amanda cleared her throat.

“Spock, you can come over here. I believe Dr. Jarris is overreacting.”

“Perhaps, but I shall heed his request to remain where I am,” the Vulcan replied. An exasperated sigh followed. “Where is Father?”

“Oh, he was hovering,” Amanda replied, dismissively waving her hand. “I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I told him he should find something more constructive to do. Have you seen him?”

“He may be with Lieutenant Jamara, the ship’s historian, who wished to interview those from the shuttle. The historical value of such time travel is quite invaluable.” Spock paused, concerned by the tense look he could see exhibited from the other side of the room. “Mother, should I leave?”

“No – no, please don’t,” she said, forcing her hands to unclench from the tight fists that had formed. “This has nothing to do with you. I just – prefer – not to think about the past right now.”

“Is there any subject you wish to discuss?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure that you were…”

Spock understood. “Mother, I am well, and Narven is dead. He cannot cause us further pain.”

“He did enough while he was here.”

“What do you remember?” he gently asked. Amanda closed her eyes, and for a moment, Spock feared that he’d said too much. She finally began to speak – a distant quality to her tenor.

“I remember the temporal rift and suddenly landing on what appeared to be Vulcan. The decision was made to quickly assess the shuttle for damage and leave as soon as possible due to our wish to avoid tampering with the time line. Narven appeared out of nowhere – he seemed friendly at first.”

“Did he say anything to you about your differing appearance?”

Amanda frowned. “Strangely enough, no. He must have known that I wasn’t Vulcan from the moment he saw me, but he said nothing about it. I believe that he just didn’t care – his only interest was in getting aboard the shuttle.”

“Were you able to understand what was happening the entire time?”

“No,” she admitted, frowning at the admission. “There are quite a few gaps in my memory.”

“You are aware of the severed bond?”

For a moment, Spock wondered if his mother might break down and cry; however, she attempted to shrug off the question.

“Oh, I know it happened. Narven used that, too.”

“How?” Spock asked, concerned by the flippant quality he heard in his mother’s voice.

“There had been problems in the past with our bond, and I just couldn’t understand why Sarek decided to end it.”

“He was attempting to shield the bond from Narven’s detection,” Spock said, defending his father.

“I know that now, but at the time I was devastated. We were both in considerable shock, and Narven took advantage of that weakness by melding with me.”

“He didn’t try to bond, did he?” Spock inquired, horrified by the inference.

“Oh, no – he was disgusted enough simply to be melding with an ‘inferior’ creature.” Amanda was quiet for a moment, but then resumed her story. “He told me that Sarek was dead and claimed that it was my fault. He also said that he would come after you to force you to join him – again, my fault for not shielding you from him. He heaped on as much guilt and fear as he could in that meld…”

“Mother…”

“Oh, I’m all right,” Amanda insisted, even though she knew she had trembled quite noticeably. “It will take some time, but I’m not going to let him win.”

“Did you select the cabin location due to the ledge?”

“Actually, no,” Amanda said, faintly smiling at the furrowed brow of her son. “Oh, it worked out for the best, but I actually selected the cabin because it reminded me of happier times.”

“Times before you met Sarek?” Spock asked. Amanda’s smile broadened.

“Oh, no! We went there, and it wasn’t – um – that bad, despite the cold. We were able to stay warm.” Spock gave his Mother a withered look at the hint of pink that colored her face. “You don’t have to give me such a look,” she said, chastising him. “We are married, for goodness sakes – well, we were married.”

Spock blinked. “Mother, even with the bond’s severing, you are still married.”

“I know,” she replied, the frown returning. “It’s just that we’ve had such problems with the bond in the past. I’m not pleased at all with what your father did.”

“My father?” Spock said, hoping to lighten the mood. “Is that the same as when I misbehaved as a child and I would suddenly become ‘Sarek’s son’?”

“Yes, it’s the same thing,” Amanda said crossly, but then she smiled. “Stop trying to cheer me up.”

The sickbay doors opened and Sarek entered, immediately stopping next to his son. “Is there some reason for the distance?” he inquired.

“Dr. Jarris suggested that I not approach until Mother recovered from the trauma inflicted by Narven,” Spock explained.

“I’m fine,” Amanda said, loudly sighing in frustration.

“We shall allow the doctors to make that decision,” Sarek replied, not troubled by the stern look directed at him. “I have made arrangements for when we return to Vulcan. Dr. McCoy believes you shall be well enough to travel by week’s end.”

“Don’t I get a say in this at all?” Amanda asked, irritably glaring at her husband.

“No,” he replied, returning the resolute look.

“Perhaps I should leave,” Spock diplomatically said. Amanda started to chuckle.

“No, that’s not necessary,” she said, smiling at the two Vulcans who remained across the room.

“I do need to speak with Dr. McCoy about a small matter,” Spock replied. He moved toward the CMO’s office. “I shall take my leave of you, my parents,” he formally said, crossing his wrists and extending them toward his father. Amanda was glad to see the informal greeting of family reinstituted – especially by Sarek. Once Spock left, she glowered at her husband.

“You, mister, are in big trouble.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow at his wife’s assessment. “In what respect?”

“You – know,” she said, her voice failing. She had done a good job of hiding her shock at the dissolution of the bond, but now she felt vulnerable. Sarek came to her bedside and sat in a chair next to her.

“There was no time to explain what I was attempting to do,” he quietly said, wondering at the way she refused to look at him.

“You didn’t have to break it.”

He shook his head. “That was not my intention. I was –“

“I know,” she angrily snapped. “I know – you didn’t mean to. That doesn’t excuse the fact that you did.”

“You will not forgive me?” he asked, waiting until she turned to face him before reaching out with paired fingers. After a minute, he dropped his hand to his lap. “Apparently, you will not,” he calmly stated, purposefully keeping his tone neutral.

“I – just – need some time,” she finally said, forcing out the words between quavering lips. Sarek rose from his chair and settled next to her on the bed, giving no thought to what might be said if someone were to enter.

“You may have whatever time you need,” he softly offered, knowing what was likely to happen next. He was actually relieved when she began to cry in earnest. It was a typical response – a normal response. It spoke of healing and, eventually, to forgiveness.

Most of all, it spoke of bonds that could not be broken.

----

Epilogue

“Hey, Spock! Have you read the latest on the feeds?”

The first officer glanced up from his cup of tea as the doctor loudly entered the Mess Hall. With a raised eyebrow, he shook his head.

“Doctor, I have not had time to peruse the gossip that often filled the Terran newsfeeds.”

“No, I’m not talking about that,” McCoy insisted, handing the Vulcan a tiny scrap of paper. “I’m talking about this.”

Spock read the article – and then read it again. He had taken some comfort in the doctor’s evaluation of the ‘killing’ ability as a rare genetic abomination. Now…

He found himself reading the same lines over and over again from the Vulcan news article. It was just as unsettling as the first. He would have to contact the authorities, but what could he say? What would be done to those with the ability? What would happen when it became known that he shared that horrible affliction with Narven?

“Interesting,” Spock finally said, handing the slip of paper back to the doctor.

“Interesting? That’s all you have to say?” McCoy’s outrage was clear, and he stormed to the door. “What are you going to do about it?”

Spock sighed at the doctor’s outburst. “I am going to carefully monitor the situation,” he replied. “I shall offer the authorities our theory, but they may not believe it.”

McCoy opened his mouth to argue, but then realized what Spock was saying. If he told them everything, he would have to admit that he also had the ‘killing’ ability. “Spock…”

“Doctor, we shall have to be vigilant,” the Vulcan said, calmly rising to leave the Mess Hall. “Vulcan has been a peaceful, non-violent society for the past two millennia. This is merely a rare anomaly that will likely not occur again for centuries. It is too late for those already gone. Careful supervision may prevent further tragedy.”

McCoy glared at the back of the first officer as the door whooshed shut. “May? Hell, it better.” He reread the end of article in the palm of his hand – and shivered.

‘The only survivor of the assault was a ten year old boy. The child had no knowledge to provide in terms of who attacked his family. Killed in the attack were his six day old sister (unnamed), his mother, T’Lole, and his father, Surnn. Surnn was a diplomatic assistant to Sarek, acting ambassador to Earth. There have been no arrests made at this time.’

THE END