Received: from [66.218.66.157] by n40.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 17 Jul 2004 19:07:58 -0000 X-Sender: asc-l@ix.netcom.com X-Apparently-To: ascem-s@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 72927 invoked from network); 17 Jul 2004 19:07:57 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.167) by m17.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 17 Jul 2004 19:07:57 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO granger.mail.mindspring.net) (207.69.200.148) by mta6.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 17 Jul 2004 19:07:57 -0000 Received: from h-66-167-56-30.phlapafg.dynamic.covad.net ([66.167.56.30] helo=katiedell.ix.netcom.com) by granger.mail.mindspring.net with esmtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BluXK-0006Za-00 for ascem-s@yahoogroups.com; Sat, 17 Jul 2004 15:07:54 -0400 Message-Id: <6.0.3.0.2.20040717150601.03d30730@popd.ix.netcom.com> X-Sender: asc-l@popd.ix.netcom.com X-Mailer: QUALCOMM Windows Eudora Version 6.0.3.0 To: ascem-s@yahoogroups.com X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.69.200.148 From: ASC Archive Team MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEM-S-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sat, 17 Jul 2004 15:06:11 -0400 Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS Revenant [R] 5/6 K/Ch, ChFF Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ELNK-AV: 0 TITLE: Revenant AUTHOR: Djinn CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com SERIES: TOS RATING: R CODES: K/Ch, Chapel Fic Fest PART: 5/6 DISCLAIMERS: Paramount and Viacom own these characters--I'm just warping canon--and trying to explain some things. SUMMARY: Sequel to "Commander" and the final installment in the look Christine stares numbly at the screen. She cannot believe Scotty is gone. "Christine?" Nyota is crying, tears streaming down her face. "I'm here." The video on their connection is iffy, but the audio is clear. Clear enough to hear that their friend is dead. To hear that the Jenolen went down with all hands. Scotty is lost. Just like Jim. She feels a rush of the old pain. No body. Why is there never any body? She'll have to get a message to Spock. They should send condolences. Scotty had a sister. Christine realizes she isn't even sure if she's alive anymore. Or if there were other children besides Peter. Jim's voice had broken when he'd told her about his death. Years later, but it still touched him how brave Scotty's nephew had been. She bites back a sob, isn't sure if she doesn't want to cry because it is not Vulcan, not Klingon, or just more than she can take. But she doesn't want to cry. She wants to hit something. To yell and scream "Why?" to the universe. Why does this happen? Maybe it is Klingon? "I'm sorry, Ny." She's never fully understood her friend's feelings for Scotty. They appeared to be together around the time Jim and she reconciled, but it didn't last. Ny never seemed to want to discuss it. "Were you in love with him?" Ny shakes her head. Then she nods. "It was...complicated." Isn't every relationship? Christine smiles sadly. "I understand." "I wasn't planning on going with him to Norpin V. So I guess it was over. For real, this time." She sobs again. "He was a good man." "He was, Ny. He was a wonderful man. The best." Ny tries to smile. "He was our miracle worker." Christine nods. "You'll tell Spock?" Nyota asks. "I will." "I have to go. I have to call Sulu." Nyota has the tone of one who has important tasks to do before she can fall apart. She seems about to cut the connection, then she looks back up. "I love you, Christine. We never say that, do we? Until it's too late." "I love you too, Ny." Her friend touches the screen. "I'm glad you and Spock are happy." She smiles, then the screen goes black. Christine finds the contact numbers Spock left with her, leaves a message that he call her as soon as he can. But that it's not an emergency. There is nothing he can do about this. She is just falling asleep when the comm unit goes off. She crawls out of bed, hits the switch. "You were asleep?" Regret colors his voice. "No. I just went to bed." "Is something wrong?" His look is very tender, as if he can read her mood even over the screen. She nods. "Did you hear about the Jenolen?" "Yes." "Scotty was on it." He closes his eyes, keeps them closed a long time. It is an eloquent statement. She feels the tears she held back before begin to fall. "I thought you should know." "Yes. You were right to call." He reaches for the screen, as if he can touch her from whatever world he's on now. She's lost track. She reaches back, wishes she could touch him--he's been gone a long time. "I miss you." "I miss you too." His expression is so tender it only makes her cry harder. "I will be home soon." She nods. "I better let you go." "I am sorry, Christine. He was a good man." She nods. "I love you, Spock." "I love you too. I will see you soon." "Okay. Good night." "Good night." He lets her cut the connection. She goes back to their bed, but sleep is a long time coming. ------------------------ "So, when is your parMach'kai coming back?" Khorta asks with a smile. Christine ignores her. "You may think you are discreet, but I can see it in the way you look at him. And in the way he looks at you." Khorta is easing matareth seeds out of their hulls, setting the delicate morsels into a dish Christine has put out for her. The old texts say the seeds are good for a sweating sickness that preys on many of the Klingon children. Christine plans to study their properties, see if she can't synthesize something similar and more potent. In the meantime, they'll use the seeds she doesn't need for research to make tinctures. It's better than nothing. "You did not answer my question. When is Spock coming back?" "Oh, that's who you were talking about." She grins at Khorta. "I thought you meant someone else." "Of course you did." Khorta hands her the full dish, starts to fill another bowl with seeds. "I have to confess. The thought of love with someone so passionless leaves me cold." Christine smiles, looks down to try to hide the expression. Khorta laughs. "Not so passionless is he? When you get him alone?" "I have no complaints." Christine glares at her. "And he would not want me talking about this." "Of course not. He's a Vulcan. They aren't exactly known for composing epic love songs for their beloveds." "Gramton's done that for you?" "Oh yes." She starts to laugh. "They are terrible songs, and when he sings them he scares even the most hardened warrior. But he has composed them for me." Christine laughs. "Did Kirk compose love songs for you?" "Jim? No." She smiles. "But..." "But...life was kind of like a love song with him." She frowns. "Except when it was really terrible." "Ah, yes. The passion." "The passion." She shakes her head. "Sometimes I thought I would die from loving him so much. Other times I just thought we'd kill each other." "And then you lost him." Christine looks down. "Yes." She still wonders if she should have tried harder to keep him home, away from the Enterprise B. That damn ship. "He gave his life for others. He was a true warrior." "Yes. He was." She sighs. "I did not mean to make you sad." Christine stands up. "I still miss him. I know Spock does too. It's hard. There was never a body, nothing to bury." She shakes her head. First Jim, then Scotty. So hard to mourn without a body, even if it is often the fate of a Fleeter. Space is a harsh mistress, and she doesn't like to let her favorites go. "Enough of that kind of thought. I have a life to live." "When you came here, you didn't care whether you lived or died, did you?" "I didn't. I wasn't in the healthiest frame of mind." "But now I think you thrive here. You and your emotionless lover." Khorta laughs again. "We thrive. I just wish Spock were here. He's been gone a long time." It's been weeks since she commed him to tell him of Scotty's death. "He will return to you." Khorta looks past her. "Perhaps sooner than you think?" Christine turns around, sees Spock walking up, his bag over his shoulder. She gets up and hurries toward him, remembering almost too late to not throw herself into his arms. He raises an eyebrow at her as she stumbles to a halt. "I see you are eager to welcome me home, Doctor Chapel." She hears Khorta snicker. It is a rather fearsome sound. Spock looks over at her. "Khorta, I trust you and your house prosper?" "We do indeed, Spock." She gets up, picks up the bowls of seeds. "I think I'll take this into the clinic to finish. I'm sure you two have much to catch up on. Things that are best handled in the privacy of your own home." She grins knowingly and walks away. "You told her," he asks. "She figured it out all on her own." He nods. "It is inconsequential." "It is?" "It was only a matter of time before she discovered the true nature of things." He gestures toward their house. "And I believe we have more important matters to discuss?" An eyebrow goes up, its languid rise somehow sending a message of urgency. "Discuss? Yes. I've missed our discussions." She smiles. "Indeed. I have had no satisfactory discussion since I left Qo'noS." "Well, I should hope not," she says as she opens the door, feels him behind her, pushing her inside and closing the door. "You do not wish for me to hold discussions with others?" She tries to look stern--it is difficult when he is pulling her towards him. "Strangely enough, no." "I believe I knew that." He kisses her, pushing her back toward their bedroom. "I believe you did too, Spock," she says as he pushes her down, follows her. Their kisses are sweet and gentle at first. Easy reconnections. A way to say hello and that they missed each other. And that they love each other. But after a while the tempo switches, becomes more passionate, more frantic. He pushes her clothing up or down--whichever way gives him better access to her body. She pulls his pants down just enough to free him, so that he can move into her. His fingers find her face; his mind sinks slowly into hers, as if relishing the feel of joining after such a lengthy absence. "I have missed you," he says softly. A lingering sadness from her news of Scotty colors the meld, and underneath she feels the old sadness for Jim. She knows he will feel the same thing from her. She kisses him tenderly. "I've missed you too." He moves deliberately, and she knows he is using the meld to determine what touches give her the most pleasure. Just as she can tell what he is feeling, how each thrust is pleasure, each retreat torturous bliss. The combination of his pleasure and her own is too much, especially when he reaches down, begins to touch her. He knows she likes that, knows what effect it will have on her. Particularly after so long apart. She calls out. He holds her close, never stopping his motion. She gasps, trying to come down as he moves harder and faster and eventually comes. The wonderful sting of his pleasure rings through her mind; she rides the wave of sensation, the meld letting her truly share his pleasure. Lying on top of her, he kisses her, does not move away. "I love you." She smiles up at him. "I love you too, Spock." He studies her. "Do you think it would have been like this if I had given in to you on the Enterprise all those years ago?" She laughs. He has never asked her such a whimsical thing before. "No." He considers that for a moment, then begins to kiss her throat. "Why not?" "Because we weren't friends then. And now we are. It's why you wanted to help me, right? Because we were friends, not because you were in love with me." "That is true." His lips are tracing a deliriously hot track up to her ear. He is moving inside her again. "But I am in love with you now." She moans at the feeling. His hand finds her face again, and he is pushing harder on the meld points. She feels his mind questing, going deeper, deeper. Then deeper still. "Do not be afraid," he says, as he continues to work his way into her mind. The sense of connection is intense. Her body is tingling the deeper his mind goes. He is moving with more purpose, thrusting hard against her, bringing wave upon wave of pleasure. When she comes, she is very loud, and he muffles her cries with his lips, but then he has to let up, because he too is calling out. She almost laughs at the sound. He is normally so quiet in his pleasure- -even if the feel of it in the meld is anything but subdued. He eases the meld slightly, and she feels faint. "It is a temporary sensation," he says to her. "It will pass." She strokes his face, wonders if she will have the strength to get out of the bed. She senses him wondering why she would want to leave the downy softness. Why she would want to leave him now that they are finally together again. And he's right, she can't think of a single reason. --------------------------- Christine wanders through the fields, searching with Hehnak for the M'alehk herb that Khorta uses to stop fevers. None of Christine's Federation meds are helping those who are suffering from the L'iktil fever that followed Gramton home from the Kilira outpost, and Khorta's stock of M'alekh is almost out. Christine's also hoping to find some of the rare Ladula herb that Khorta says will stop bleeding. She hopes to synthesize it, make something better than the Federation meds, which seem about as useful as an old-fashioned styptic pencil for stopping the bleeding of the Klingon wounded. She's sure she could do more for those who aren't so eager to get to Sto-Vo-Kor than what her current stock of remedies is allowing. At times the Klingon Empire does seem to be cracking apart through these damn blood feuds. But it's one person at a time, and she's sick of only being able to offer them her Daqtagh. She thinks of Matthew, probably rolling in his grave at how comfortable she's grown on Qo'noS. She wonders if Valeris is still struggling to survive on Rura Penthe. Maybe Christine is atoning for all of them? She realizes Hehnak is watching her and shoots him a glance. "What?" He grins. "I was thinking about you eating gagh at my father's birthday feast." Gramton finally cornered her at the gagh table before she could escape. He took extreme delight in loading her plate full. She fights down nausea at the thought of having eaten it. "You're a cruel boy." He laughs. "If you could have seen your face." Gagging on gagh. It doesn't translate well, but she tries to share the idea with him. He grins. Maybe some ideas don't need translation. "Do Klingons like it when they're kids? Or do you have to learn to like it?" She smiles. Like artichoke hearts and pickled herring and-- A sudden hiss stops her cold. She turns. "Hehnak, don't move." A snake is between them. He doesn't move, as he says, "It is a sh'iril." She remembers Gramton saying they would all be back underground. But this snake seems very active. And it has its eye on the boy, is moving in the rapid circling motion Gramton said is the preface to attack. Vibrations. She can divert it through the ground. "Don't move," she says again, then she stomps as hard as she can. The serpent twists and leaps out at this new threat. Christine jumps back, but the snake is faster. It catches her in the leg, its fangs sinking quickly through her uniform, then into her skin, before it jerks back, and slithers away quickly. She stares down at her leg, feels it begin to throb. It's okay. She mustn't panic. So Gramton said there was no antivenin--maybe that was just exaggeration? She looks at Hehnak. "Is there really no antivenin?" "Father spoke truth. There is none." "Well, we still need to get back to the clinic." She feels panic starting, her heart is racing. She knows she must fight the fear, or the poison will only spread faster. "It is not fast acting. We will walk carefully. We will get home." Hehnak sounds very adult as he tries to support her, his small frame pressed against her as he urges her back toward the clinic. "You must stay calm." "Easy for you to say, kid." She smiles at him, tries to show him she is all right. She is not all right. She is dying. She has a sudden flash. A shuttle, ages ago, lifetimes ago. She and Jim. Dying. Together. Soon they'll be dead together. She stumbles, forces herself to pay attention. Hehnak looks up at her. "I should have sensed the sh'iril." "It wasn't your fault." "I am a warrior." "You're a child too." Hehnak frowns. "You should have let the snake strike at me. I am faster than you; it would not have bitten me." "Says you." She laughs suddenly--she is dying, and all she and this boy can do is argue over which of them should have taken on the snake. It is so....Klingon. Hehnak slowly smiles. As if he knows what she is thinking. "I owe you my life." She shakes her head. "I will not forget." She looks down on the boy. He is so earnest. So innocent in his honor and his desire to be what she once hated--a Klingon warrior. "Just look after Spock. He's going to be alone now." The boy nods. A human would have tried to buck up her spirits. Would have lied and told her she isn't dying. But this is no human. She is glad for it. Fate has always had an odd sense of humor. Now it seems to be laughing uproariously at her. She will die...so that a Klingon child will grow up to be a warrior. Khorta is sitting outside the clinic, sharpening her Daqtagh. She sees them and cries out in alarm, hurrying over to help. "What happened?" "A sh'iril. She distracted it. I should have been the one it went after," Hehnak says as he pulls away from Christine. "I will go get Spock." Khorta nods. "Yes. Hurry." "He said the poison was slow acting," Christine says. "It is. But you will want as much time with your parMach'kai as you can have." Christine nods. Khorta is not wrong. Spock will have nothing left but his causes once she is gone. "He's going to be alone," she says as Khorta eases her down onto one of the beds in the clinic. "Will you look after him?" Khorta's eyes narrow, and Christine wonders if she has asked something difficult. Hehnak runs in. "Spock is in the far provinces with father. But they are on their way." Christine nods. She can imagine Spock will be terribly worried-- almost frantic. He will hide it though. Or at least he will try to- -but Klingon eyes miss so little. Gramton will know. Hehnak looks at her solemnly, a strange expression in his eyes. "I must go." She wonders if this is the Klingon way. Children do not witness death? But that seems off. She realizes he is waiting for her permission. "Of course. Go." He runs off. She feels hurt, tries to push the feeling away. It is not hard. Other pain is starting. Her leg was barely throbbing a moment ago, now it is on fire. "Hypo," she says, pointing to the cabinet. "The one with the orange ring." Khorta brings it, and Christine holds it to her neck. The fire recedes a bit. She doesn't put much in, wants to stay awake and lucid for Spock. He will need that from her. Khorta pulls a chair over, then she pulls out her Daqtagh . Christine laughs. "Please tell me you're not going to put me out of my misery." Khorta laughs too. "No." She takes a deep breath, lets it out. "I can look after Spock for you. But only to a certain extent as his friend. You do realize that?" Christine nods. They are outworlders. She cannot expect too much. Khorta smiles. "But as a member of my House..." She holds her left hand out, palm up, and draws the Daqtagh lightly over it. Rose- colored blood beads up. She reaches for Christine's hand, turns it over. "No. The poison is in me." Khorta ignores her, slicing the blade across Christine's hand. It is so sharp that Christine does not feel it cut until her own blood wells up. Then Khorta's hand is pressing against hers, their blood mingling. "And now, it is in me. And not enough to hurt me, so rest easy." Khorta smiles as she pulls her hand away. "I welcome you into the House of Gramton." Christine finds herself smiling also. It is too funny--she will die a Klingon. "Your parMach'kai is one of us now also. It is our way." "You realize that you just welcomed James T. Kirk to your family too then?" Khorta's smile grows. "That's right. It is fitting." Christine can't help it. She laughs. She is sorry immediately. The movement causes great pain. There is a rustle at the door. Hehnak holds up the lifeless sh'iril. "I have avenged you." Christine feels a chill. He could have been killed. "It was my blood enemy because it hurt you. I have destroyed it." Khorta laughs loudly. "My mighty son. You have done a good thing. You have avenged a member of our house." She holds up her palm, and he smiles in understanding. "I am pleased." He looks at Christine. "This is my first kill by myself. I am truly a warrior now." He killed for her. She feels unaccountably touched despite her worry. "I am honored by your actions." It seems a better thing to say than thank you or you shouldn't have. He studies the snake, then puts it gently into a container. Christine looks at Khorta. "He's going to keep it?" "Of course. It will be a trophy of his first kill as a warrior." "You realize it's still poisonous?" Khorta frowns. "Well, of course." Christine sighs. "Forget I said anything. Just hang it high so he doesn't run into it until he's older." "If you wish it." Khorta smiles tolerantly. Christine can tell this is a great concession. Hehnak moves to the doorway, looks up at the sky. "Father's shuttle is coming." He runs out. Touching Christine's shoulder, Khorta whispers, "I will miss you, my friend." Christine grasps her hand. "I have learned so much from you." It suddenly seems important to say this. She wonders if Khorta has any idea how much it means. Khorta nods slowly. "May your journey to Sto-Vo-Kor be full of adventure." Christine shakes her head. "This is hardly a warrior's death." Khorta smiles. "On the contrary. You saved my son. I am sure the warriors will let you in." She seems to consider it. "But if it will make you feel better, I will go kill someone in your name. I could start a blood feud with the House of Lukar. I believe they cheated us on our last bloodwine shipment." Christine laughs. "That's okay. I need to find Jim, remember? I doubt he's in your afterworld." "I doubt it too." Khorta smiles. "Although if he is, he's probably having a very interesting time." Spock comes in, Hehnak and Gramton behind him. The Klingons stop at the door, watching Spock, who is hurrying to her. Christine cannot remember the last time she saw him walk that fast. Khorta gets up and moves away as Spock sinks into the chair she has vacated. Leaning down, she says, "You have time, Spock." He seems to notice the blood on her hand, then on Christine's. He frowns slightly. "We've got new relatives, Spock." Christine looks over at Gramton. Sees him grin, but it is a grin touched with tragedy. Spock nods, understanding what has happened. He is wise that way. "We are honored." His voice is raw. Christine swallows. How can she leave him alone? Khorta withdraws, taking Hehnak and Gramton with her. "I'm sorry," Christine whispers. He shakes his head. "Hehnak told me what happened." "I wanted to save him. It was stupid. He probably wouldn't have been bit." "You do not know that." He is trying to make her feel better, but his eyes seem to hold all the sorrow of the universe. She begins to cry; he is so dear to her. "Shhh," he says, as if he can somehow ease her pain. He always seems to be offering her comfort. "I don't want to leave you alone," she says, her voice breaking on the last word. "I fear you will have no choice." He brushes the hair from her face gently, does not seem to mind how sweaty she is. The poison is making her sweat, and she can feel her leg swelling and her lungs filling with fluid. There is not much time left. "Promise me you won't get too isolated." Clutching at him, she is suddenly afraid of the future she sees for him. Alone is not good for anyone, but especially not for Spock. He looks down. He will not make false promises. Not even to appease his dying lover. She smiles sadly. "Promise me then that you'll follow your passions, even if they're for causes not people anymore." He looks back at her. She tries again. "You speak often of unification." He nods slowly. "Make it happen then." She groans, tries to stifle the sound but cannot. "If anyone can, Spock, it's you. You have so many years ahead of you." It is the only comforting thing. The idea that this moment would have come anyway. He is doomed to outlive her. To end up alone. "Find love, Spock." He leans down, lays his lips on her cheek. "I have found it. With you." She turns so their lips meet. It is a sweet kiss. "And with Jim." He nods. "My friend." He kisses her again. "I love you, Christine." "I love you." She is crying now. She cannot leave him. Very soon, she will not have a choice. "Jim will come for you," he says softly. "You think so?" He nods. She wonders if he believes that or is just trying to give her hope. But his face is solemn. He does not appear to be humoring her. He believes Jim will come. And why shouldn't he? When hasn't Jim come for him? "You will be together again." He kisses her again. She sees his pain. Sees envy too. She will be with Jim; he will not. "Come with me. Just a little ways." She lifts his fingers to the meld point. He does not hesitate, is in her mind quickly--they have shared so many melds. She is glad he is with her, is even gladder when he pushes her pain away, muffling it with his own strength. She sends him all her love. He sends her his own back. And buried inside them both is all the love they both have for Jim, and the burning, intense need to see him again. She feels disconnected, but Spock is there with her, keeping her grounded for these last few moments. A light appears; it is so bright. "Don't stay too long," she says to Spock, afraid he will try to follow her. "I will not." Someone steps out of the light, and she moans in anticipation. But as he gets closer, confusion fills her. It is David. David has come for her. "No. Where is he? Spock, where is Jim?" She can feel his dismay. For her. For himself. Before he can answer, he is gone, sent hurtling out of her mind by some force she can't see. And there is nothing but the light and David smiling down at her. He holds out his hand. "You were expecting dear old dad?" She takes his hand and stands up, feels no strain, no pain as she moves. "Yes. I was." He points behind her, and she lets go of him as she turns to look, hoping to see Jim. But it is just her body, still lying on the bed. And Spock bent over her, his fingers free of the meld points. He is stroking her face, murmuring something. "He loves you." "I love him." David nods. "Where is Jim?" she asks. Her tone is not nice; she is angry. She has just died, and her first emotions are disappointment and anger. She's pretty sure this isn't how it's supposed to work. He laughs. "I would not want to be my father right about now." He holds out his hand again, waits for her to take it before leading her into the light. "Come on. I have a lot to show you." End part 5 of 6 Messages from this list are mirrored on the ASCEM newsgroup. Read http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML/files/faq.txt for more information about your subscription to ASCEM/L. Yahoo! Groups Links