Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!in.100proofnews.com!in.100proofnews.com!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!news-xfer.newsread.com!yellow.newsread.com!bad-news.newsread.com!news-toy.newsread.com!netaxs.com!newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: <182159338.20041229013204@gmx.de> From: "A.Q" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TOS "Family" 1/2 [NR] K/Saa Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-15 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Lines: 492 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 01:55:03 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1104285303 209.198.142.218 (Tue, 28 Dec 2004 20:55:03 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 20:55:03 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86440 X-Received-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 17:55:07 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: Family Author: Acidqueen a.q at gmx.de Series: TOS Rating: NR, dark Codes: Kirk/Saavik, Sarek (Saavik/David, Spock/Saavik implied) Part: 1/2 Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Archive: My own website at http://www.syredronning.de , ASCEM, all others ask, please. Acknowledgement: Thanks to Saavant for beta'ing! All remaining errors are mine. Summary: The relationship between Kirk and Saavik is not without * I wake up and I'm surprised that my bed isn't empty...isn't even my bed, but yours. I rarely sleep over at your place, but I was bone tired, and obviously you didn't want to wake me in the middle of the night. Not a good idea, Saavik, because nobody would like it if they found out about the two of us. Nogura wouldn't - I've told him a nice story about pretending the relationship to protect you, but he'd be the first one to kick my ass if he found out that the maneuver has become the truth. And Starfleet in general has rules concerning old Captains and young lieutenants. Spock...well, I only know that he doesn't seem to need me at the moment, and he can't recall you, and that saves us from his critics. But there'd be no one to cheer at us, when Tomcat JTK seduces a young, vulnerable mother. Even though you've seduced me. I look at you, your hair on the cushion like a fan, soft brown strands aligned as if for a picture. Vulnerable? I never saw you like that. You've been a brash lieutenant in your command training, never backing from inconvenient questions. But you've changed more than my picture of you. My fingers dance along your chin, travel over your lips, stroke the ear next to me. You're hot, but you never sweat. Even Spock did, but you're fully Vulcanoid, although you're not fully Vulcan. The difference is tangible, and never more so than in bed. You seem to be always ready and always needy, never more alive and burning than when I'm with you, in you. Your eyes open, and you give me that gaze, intense, less shaded and guarded than usual. I'm so ready, I don't know what you do to me, but I roll over and I'm in you and it's as if I'm twenty years younger and you're mine and the boy is ours and we're one happy family on a normal, everyday morning. Outside the sun is shining and the rays climb up the walls behind you when I rhythmically push you into the mattress. Then it's over, and you make coffee while I recover, and there I'm back in my old shell, back to being the old man who's the grandpa and destroying the family with his sleeping around. Carol's voice still clings in my ears from time to time - it's hard to overcome accusations when they're hitting home. You bring in the coffee, and I wonder once more if you only drink it for me, but I never ask. Pulling you into a very human kiss, I cherish the moment, knowing that a wonderful, rare illusion is going to end in a few minutes, and we'll go out into a world where we never dare to show our true selves. * I'm running late, and I don't care. The lift is running slow, and I don't care either. Daniels is calling after me when I step into my office, but I'm too slow to turn around. Instead, I face an unexpected visitor. The deja-vu is powerful, and I freeze in the door, throatily asking, "Anything wrong with Spock?" Sarek raises a brow and says, "Not as far as I know." I feel the air returning to my lungs. "Good." "I must speak with you, Kirk," he says coolly, before I can greet him. "About?" I say, and sit down on the couch. I regret it the second I hit the upholstery, because he remains standing and so I have the weaker position. And then I'm pondering why I think this discussion will be a nasty one. It's something in his tone that just doesn't ring as friendly as our last meetings have been. "About Saavik." "About Saavik," I repeat slowly. "And why are we talking about her?" "What are your intentions with her?" Sarek says. I've never managed the neat trick of lifting one eyebrow, as Bones and Spock did. Therefore, I just look humanly dumb-founded. "I beg your pardon?" "You have entered a relationship with her. I am asking of what kind it is." Of all the things he could've said, this was the least unexpected. And yes, this is going to be an uncomfortable talk. I feel my shoulder muscles involuntarily tensing. "I'm supporting her since she's come back to Earth, if that's what you mean." "This is not what I am talking about, Kirk. I am speaking of a sexual liaison." He looks rather serious and determined, and I decide that lying would be rather ineffective. "I don't think that should be your concern in any way, Ambassador," I say, trying attack as best defense. But he has a better card than I have, obviously. "Saavik is a member of my family. It is far more my business than you believe." "A member of your family?" "Spock finally signed the adoption papers that were prepared long ago." "Spock signed..." Anger rises. That son of a... "Did he ask Saavik before he decided to interfere with her life like that? He didn't care one little bit for her after the fal-tor-pan, so why does he do it now?" "It was long settled, Kirk. The papers should have been signed months ago. Since one week ago, she is a full member of my family. With all rights and duties." "So you claim to have authority over her now? Damn, where were you when she was stranded on Earth with little money?" "She refused any help at that time. One of the reasons why I have advised Spock to sign the papers." "And when did you plan to tell her about the adoption?" I glare at him. "I already did two days ago." That hits me. Two days? What kind of game is she playing with me? Sarek sits down, finally facing me. "Don't you realize, Kirk, that her behavior is unusual for a Vulcan, and even more for her? Did the thought never cross your mind that she might have a serious problem? I can see it in your eyes, Kirk, you know that I am right." What do I know of Vulcans, I think in frustration, of any Vulcan in my life? "I don't know," I say and shrug. "She didn't change more than I'd expect any young lieutenant to change after the events concerning Genesis." "Most of the changes, I have heard, came over the birth of her son. I presume her hormonal system has not fully recovered, but she did not see any of the physicians that I have recommended to her. Amanda tried to reason with her, but also to no avail." Sarek looks suddenly tired. "Kirk...you must talk to her. Maybe you can make her see the truth in my words." "I don't know if I want to, Sarek. She's her own woman and adult. I'm only..." A guest in her life, I think, but don't voice it. And I'm that guest because it's me who's holding back from more commitment. The story of my life. "You are her lover, Kirk. Much as I resent the notion. But maybe it was to be expected, with Spock out of both your lives." "I don't know what you're referring too, but I don't like it." I briskly stand up and walk behind my big bureau table. He rises too, lifting a brow. "You cannot ignore the truth, Kirk. I expect you to act accordingly." "Or...?" "I will force Saavik to comply with the family's order." "We're not on Vulcan." "I have my means." "You better leave this office now, Ambassador." Damn, this is Spock's father, the man who would have rather let Vulcan secede from the Federation than to give over the Enterprise renegades. The man who saved us all from the mines and instead helped us to get back into space. And it's the man who's threatening the two persons who are dearest to me, in my own office. "I will." He bows and leaves, and I sag into my chair, clenching my fists. I have to talk to Saavik - tonight. * "Why didn't you tell me?" I stand in the same door as two months ago and look down on you. It's like watching the holy, peaceful, eternal image of mother and child. Anyone ever noticed the odd man out? "Why didn't you tell me?" I repeat the question, and at least you don't pretend not to know what I'm talking about. "Does it matter to you?" You barely shed me a glance. "Not as long as Sarek doesn't walk into my office and give me a rubdown for being involved with a family member of his." I see a brow rising and lowering, but without comment. A part of me would like to shake you, but you'd just give me a Vulcanly glare. So I sit down next to you. "Saavik - do you accept the adoption?" "They didn't ask me. There was a time when it was my greatest dream to have a family...today, I feel as if I have one." "You do? I don't, really." Only in those precious little moments we had, but I graciously ignore them for now. "You have an irritating habit of avoiding anything personal." I'm also ignoring my own habit on that part. "And you're not the woman you used to be, Saavik. Where is the energetic, promising lieutenant from the Academy? Where did she go, tell me." I'm wondering if it's me or Sarek speaking. But then I look into your eyes and there's no shimmer in them, none of the sparkles there are in the morning. Your everyday face is closed, tight, bleak, a façade worse than Spock's ever was. You work, go shopping, go home and, as far as I know, I'm the only person you're ever really talking to. And yet, there are many moments where even I can't read you. I suddenly want to get rid of that damping field around us before you can suffocate me, lulling me with sex and promises of a family that wasn't ever going to be. Or maybe it's just my bad conscience talking, wondering if I'm actually getting sex for money. "I want you to go to one of the physicians that Sarek has recommended to you." There's a frown in your features, and an accusation in you voice when you asks, "Was that an order, Captain?" for the first time in a long while addressing me by my rank. "Not yet, Saavik," I say. "And you won't succeed in angering me. I've had enough young, brash cadets in my life to handle you without problems." So there you are, showing me more energy than in a long time, challenging me, and all I can think about is controlling you again? Maybe I've been in Starfleet for too long. But Sarek's right - looking at it with a clear mind this isn't the Saavik we've known before. "What would you do if I didn't follow your advice?" you ask. Visions of simply pulling you to the next physician play in my mind. But I don't want to sink down to Sarek's level. "The question is: what will Sarek do?" I never get an answer. Instead, you stand up and put Daavid to bed, all caring mother. Then you leave, and I watch you go and realize that this wasn't my best discussion ever. I kiss Daavid good night, whispering sweet words in his still not understanding ears, and I don't know when I'm going to see him again. Something doesn't feel right anymore, the fragile construction shaking and threatening to collapse. And somehow it's my fault, I think. It's been always my fault. I go out into the living room, where you are setting the table for one. You couldn't possibly say more in a better way, and so I swallow everything I want to say, grab my coat and leave. * The call comes in so early the next morning that Daniels isn't yet there to take it. I guess the caller before I even see his face. He wears a red-brown robe, and on his folded hands, the big jewels are shimmering. On a human, it would've been called pretentious. I wonder if it should tell me something about the Vulcan society I didn't know so far. "Captain. Have you spoken with Saavik?" Sarek says. "I did." "With what result?" "She didn't listen to me," I say coolly. "In effect, it seems we split over it, if that's any consolation for you." I begin wishing I had a coffee this morning. He raises a brow, giving me The Gaze. Only Vulcans can look like this. "It is not," he says to my astonishment. "You were the only friend whom she met on a regular basis." "You are sending a private investigator after her?" "For the last three weeks, yes." "Don't you esteem privacy very highly?" "The family is of even higher importance." It's a weird discussion for sure, and I could've enjoyed it on some other day. But not this morning. "I need to start working, Ambassador. I'll contact you in case of new developments." I close the line, and I feel guilty again. It's Spock's father, my conscience claims. It's the man who thinks he has any say in my affairs, my brain says. I'll deal with my problems in my own, special way. Like always. * A week later, I admit to myself that dealing meant ignoring. I didn't call you, and you didn't call me. The only people who called me were Sarek in the office and Amanda at home. But after having had a first, complicated talk with her, I've decided to ignore her number as I ignore his. Knowing that you're often short of money, I've transferred the usual credits to your account. I don't know if you use it, but I hope you do. I do it for Daavid, I keep telling myself. I want only the best for him. And I begin thinking that it might be for the best if his grandpa doesn't fuck his mother. It is destroying a family, not Carol's non-existent one, but Sarek's. I'm too close to Spock's parents, I can't do that to them. But then there's that reception at the office for beta quadrant affairs, and you're there because someone assigned you to the new Romulan task force. I guess that you didn't want to do it, because you've always despised everything Romulan. But you're too valuable, and there's a limit to the freedom of choice in Starfleet, as I know well. And so you're there and I watch your face from a distance. And I watch your body and I suddenly need you, want you, want to throw your and my mask aside to fuck the hell out of you in the middle of the hall. Because by now I know I could. By Vulcan law I might marry you, even should marry you. Nobody would bat an eye on us there, and Vulcan law overrules Federation law when it comes to family business. I want to walk over and push away the little spotty lieutenant you're talking to and I want to claim you as mine. Not as my daughter-in-law, but as my wife. You raise your head and your long hair frames your face when your eyes meet mine. Of course you don't smile, and it's right and you don't have to. You aren't human, and I can't expect you to be. I don't have the right to judge you by my standards, because you're unique. It takes a while before I manage to get close to you, and I pull you into a corner. "Saavik," I say. "We need to talk. But not here." "Agreed," is all you say. "My apartment, tomorrow afternoon?" You lift a brow - you've barely been there, and never without Daavid. But this is about the two of us, and I want you to know that I'm changing the rules. I can only hope you'll understand. "I will come at 1600," you finally say, and leave me in the corner. But there's hope, after all. * It's not as if we really talk. Not when you arrive, and not when I make the coffee from which you barely sip. I feel it would be easier to say what I want to say when you're in a more emotional state. And you seem to think that you can escape whatever I want to say when my brain is focused on other things. Therefore, we end in bed much too soon. And it's the old pattern and you give me that look, inviting but without challenge, open and yet guarded, as if you're hiding behind a mirror. I begin stroking you, wanting to give you one of the long, tender foreplays that I enjoy. Your hand catches mine, holding it mid-air. "I need you," you say. "I need you too, Saavik. More than I ever thought." You minutely shake you head. "I need you now. Have sex with me." "I'm in the process," I say amused. I'm so needy I feel like bursting. But today we're at my place, and I think we've got to catch up with some of the things other people start with. Like long, tender foreplays. "Take me," you say, but your eyes don't shimmer. You're more like a puppet, thrown onto my covers by some giant's hand. "Why can I never hold you?" I say, remembering all those moments where I wanted to be just close, and she didn't let me. "Is it something Vulcan?" You stay in silence, still suspending my hand. And when I try kissing your shoulder, you twist away. Suddenly, it dawns on me. "This isn't about being Vulcan. This is about punishing yourself." I free my hand, using it to pull around your chin. "You're punishing yourself, aren't you? You don't grant yourself the joy you could feel. About all your achievements, about Daavid, your career...or about having me. But it doesn't have to be that way, Saavik. Let me make you feel again." I press my lips onto yours, ignoring the little flicker of defense I feel from you. Everyone yields to my kisses, I know, and so I'm giving you a first class treatment, the one I should've given you long ago. Long, burning, telling kisses nobody has received from me for a long time. But when I pull away, you stare at the ceiling, not meeting my eyes. "Saavik. I love you. I've learned that we could marry by Vulcan laws, and I'm willing to do it. We could be a family, Saavik." How could I come to think that with our lives' stories, we could ever be anything resembling a normal family? Must've gotten too old. I should've learned everything there is to learn about being disillusioned by now. But the gaze you finally give me and the words that follow teach me a new lesson. "I don't want to marry you," you say flatly. "Why not?" I ask, but you escape my grip. My hand comes to rest on the warm spot where you've been seconds ago, and I fear that the last thing I'll ever have from you is your scent on my bed. In a rush I stand up and corner you at the door. "Tell me, Saavik. Tell me why." I clutch your shoulders, but hold you at a distance so that I can see your face in the dying afternoon sun. It's more than just about you and me. This is about the universal woman in my life, the kind of woman who walks out on me without telling me why. Without giving me the chance to fix anything, because I never get to learn what is broken in the first place. As the silence deepens, all the past moments of silence multiply and grow with it. "Why can't you talk to me, Saavik?", I ask. "I understand that you don't love me...maybe you don't know how to love, or maybe you've never loved anyone more than David. Or Spock," my subconscious makes me add, and this is the moment where your face changes, your eyes dropping to some point on my chest. "That's it?" I ask blankly. "But then...why did you start something with me, Saavik? Why me?" I hear my pleading, and I hate myself for it. I'm an old fool and I didn't realize it for too long. My ego's one little pulp of hurt, and I'm tired. I let you free. "All right, I won't bother you anymore." The words hurt, but it has to be. I've said good-bye often enough to survive it. But it's not only you leaving, but with you my tiny little dream. And although you don't answer, I know that I've been your choice because I've been there when no one else was, not David, not Spock. I've been part of your chosen family, and so you've clung to the one connection to the life you've once had. Maybe I wouldn't mind if you said so. Maybe I would be satisfied with my role if you just said one little thing. Like "I'm sorry." But you leave, and I lose it all. Again. * TBC in Part 2/2 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.115.63.142!newsswing.news.prodigy.com!prodigy.net!newsfeed.cwix.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.monger.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: <149774092.20041229013212@gmx.de> From: "A.Q" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TOS "Family" 2/2 [NR] K/Saa Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 371 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 05:55:07 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: monger.newsread.com 1104299707 209.198.142.218 (Wed, 29 Dec 2004 00:55:07 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 00:55:07 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86449 X-Received-Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 21:55:31 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Part 2/2 "Family" K/Saa, NR, dark * I bury myself into my work, and I'm happy when an emergency comes up. They're asking for the Enterprise, but she's still in refit, so I get the command of the "Oceanica". At first, it's a weird feeling to work without Spock at my back and Sulu at the helm (not to mention Bones whispering good advice in my ear), but considering the last events, I feel it's time to get away from it all. For four weeks, all I'm concerned about is the catastrophe on Arot'k, and there's nothing more sobering than experiencing such a thing. My love life might be catastrophic too, but I live, you live, we're all well and healthy and not starving or freezing or dying in the cold, tortured by sickness and plagues like the poor people here. First a long war, then a devastating volcanic eruption, which stopped at least the war - there is something good to come out of everything bad. I keep telling that myself in those rare, shady moments when my mind drifts back to you. Finally, I'm on my way back to Earth and ready for it. * It takes me two day to settle back in my office, then I finally find the time to take a glimpse at your roster. I'm astonished to learn that you've taken extended leave for family reasons, because I've received some messages from Sarek over the time that haven't sounded as if you'd gone to Vulcan. At your phone, there's only the answering machine replaying the standard phrases, so I hang up again. It's in the mess where I see the spotty lieutenant from the reception again. "Lt. Rolling. A word with you in private, please." I say, and gesture him into a nearby corner. He's all straight and serious, especially since he doesn't know what I want from him. "Yes, Sir?" "I know it's not a general procedure to ask, but I need some information. You're a colleague of Lieutenant Saavik. Did you see her in the last days?" "She's taken leave for the last weeks, but I've last seen her the Friday before her vacation," he says. "Did she behave as usual?" The man lowers his eyes and blushes, quite an unexpected sight. "Lieutenant?" I say. It's been a long time since I saw someone reacting like this. He gives me a glance. He is so young. Since when did the fleet promote such kids? "She was..." He hesitates, then says, "She seemed normal." Suddenly, I know. "You've slept with her. When?" "Sir...?" He doesn't lie well. He won't get far up the ranks. "I'm not going to report anything. But I need to know." The words come out in my no-fun-voice, and I feel like that. The idea of having this young man as my possible rival is disgusting and sobering all at once. He falters under my gaze. "On the day after the reception. She had already said good-bye, but came back to the office in the evening. I was the last one there. She...I know it sounds stupid, Sir, but she seduced me." "And you met again the following day?" "Yes. But it was like every day. It bore no resemblance to the evening before." He shrugs. "I began wondering if I had only invented it. She was so cool. Distanced." Why do I feel I know the story? Rolling faces me with a new-found clarity. "Now that I really think about it, I don't know why she hit on me. I don't think she really...well, liked it. It was as if she wanted to prove something." I put my hand on his shoulder in a gesture between friendly and patronizing. "Rolling, things like that can happen. But don't do it again. It's the easiest way to damage your career." "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." He nods briskly, and flees the second my hand leaves his uniform. So here we go again, I think and brace myself for a talk with you. * I sit in my car in front of your apartment house, and I don't want to go up. But it has taken me three days before I've found the time and nerves to come, and I wouldn't back down now. I park the car and go up to the 20th floor. The corridor lies quiet, the whole building overly dark. Shut down. Superstition, I think amused, but the smile vanishes when nobody answers my ringing. I enter the number you've given me a while ago. To my surprise, it still works. The door slips aside, revealing a quiet, dark apartment. I switch on the lights, calling out for you. There's no logical reason why you should be here, but I can feel it in my guts that the apartment isn't empty. The remains on the table in the living room look like breakfast, and bits and pieces are lying around in unusual disorder. The bedroom is the last place I look for you, maybe because I know that I'd find you here. You sit on the bed, Daavid in your arms. "Saavik. I was worried about you," I say, torn between relief and anger. But you don't look up, your eyes resting on some vague spot on the wall. I draw closer and touch you. "Saavik?" You seem frozen, and in a sudden decision, I take the child out of your embrace. This wakes you finally. "No," you whisper. But it's too late, and I already hold the child...hold a cold little bundle in my arms. I've seen death so often, I know it when I see it. For a second, I'm speechless, then the words tumble out on their own. "You've killed him." You just sit there and don't say a fucking word. It drives me mad. "Saavik! You've killed him! Why?" I'm so angry, I feel like killing you too. Clutching the child, I turn on the spot and go back to the living room. My fingers automatically cradle the cool head, while my mind tries finding a solution. There's no place for self-incrimination right now, but I can't help feeling guilty anyway. I've failed you. Failed him. What should I do now? No more family... Family. I place him down on a nearby arm chair, then go to the console. Thankfully, I don't see him anymore from there. I've walked through fields of dead bodies a week ago, and can't stand the sight of that one little body. Isn't it strange? The HQ switchboard relays me to the Vulcan Embassy, where I ask for Sarek in a private family matter. There's no easier way to make a Vulcan listen. "Sarek - Daavid is dead," I say, when he appears on screen. "Saavik's child," I add when I see his momentary confusion. "My grandchild." Guilt rushes in powerfully again. Why didn't I listen to Sarek? Why not talk to Bones? Petty, egocentric thinking, and then an escape into space. No wonder women always leave me. "He is dead? Why?" Sarek's grave voice pierces through my tumbling thoughts. "I don't know," I say. "I was away in space for four weeks, and she'd taken leave. I thought I'd check on her. I found her clutching the child...clutching it so tightly, she may well have suffocated it. She's not reacting to me. Looks as if she's utterly gone blank. If I call the police now, she'll end in rehab or prison on Earth. I want to know if you could offer a better option." The man on the other side folds his hands. I see the jewels again, and they are the same as last time and everything would be utterly normal if it weren't for the one, little, dead body in the armchair. "I can offer a better option," Sarek says. The words I want to hear. "I will prepare all papers that are needed to place her under immediate custody of the Vulcan law according to Federation agreements. Being her Head of House, I have every right to do this. I will send my closest assistant and two others of my staff to Saavik's apartment. They should arrive within an hour. You have to await them." I nod. "I'll be here." I see that he's grieving now too. It's the face he made when we thought Spock's katra was lost. Daavid didn't have much to lose by now, only potential. And maybe that's the hardest thing of all. "I offer my condolences, Kirk," he says. "For all your losses." The line closes. All my losses. I lose focus, as my eyes fill with water. There're no tears dropping down on the Vulcan keyboard in front of me. I don't know when I lost the ability to mourn aloud. Somewhere along my command track, when they hammer in your head that you've got to be strong, stronger than everyone, because you've got to make them follow you into hell and out again. And I've been to many places where the name fits. And today, my hell is a body on an armchair. "Jim..." I look up, not sure how long I've sat on the console. You stand in the doorframe, arms clamped around your chest. I see your stained shirt, the uncombed hair and saggy pants. I have never noticed how fragile you are. You remain standing, and so it's me who gets up and to you. "Why, Saavik? Why did you kill him?" You look at me, bewildered. "He's not dead. He sleeps. He's cried for a long time, but now he's asleep." I close my eyes, cradling you in my arms. Something inside of me gives way, and there's the pain again, an iron band around my stomach. I clutch you harder, with all my might. You sob, and I close one hand around the back of your head, pressing your face onto my chest as if to stop these sounds, yours, mine...I don't know. I feel brittle, cold, like bursting into a thousand frozen pieces. Your breathing becomes labored, but you stay in my arms. You won't die in my hold, your bones won't crush in my embrace. But a part of me wishes it would be like that, and I could end it here and now. Someone knocks on the door, and I place you on the couch. It's the expected Vulcans, two women and a man. The man goes to check on the baby, one woman sits down next to you. The other one pulls me aside. "I am T'So. I have Ambassador Sarek's full confidence," she says, preparing the ground. "I'm sure he wouldn't have sent you otherwise," I say. "The Ambassador and I only had time for a very brief discussion, but we are both concerned about your presence here. You should leave before the police will arrive." I'm confused. "I'm a witness. I've found her. And I'm surely on the security tapes of this building." "There will be no trial, Captain. We will testify her whereabouts, and she will be taken to Vulcan." "And what about Starfleet?" "The Ambassador leaves it to you to solve this problem. He trusts in your abilities and presumes that you will be able to advise Captain Nogura of the best way to handle the case." "So essentially you're sweeping it all under the carpet." "An official trial on Earth would neither serve Starfleet nor the House of the Ambassador. Faults have been made on all sides. Saavik will be examined on Vulcan. If she acted on emotional imbalance, she will undergo the respective treatment in an institution." "I see." My eyes travel to the couch, to you. I'm not sure anymore if calling Sarek has been the right thing to do, and if Vulcan is a better spot for you than Earth would have been. But there are no alternatives left. I can imagine what happens if my name appears in the headlines in connection with yours. People would ask why Starfleet has overlooked such a perilous situation, and even more people would ask about the personal involvement of Starfleet's most famous Captain. I'm offered the only logical solution. "All right," I say. "You're going to phone the police when I'm gone?" "After a brief waiting period, yes." T'So lowers her eyes. "The House of Sarek regrets the loss of such a young life," she says, unexpectedly softly. "We will do everything to assure that Saavik's life will not be a loss, too." "I've got to believe you, don't I?" I straighten my uniform to center myself, pushing my private sorrow back behind the official persona. As I've done so many times. "Take care of her," I say, a phrase that is thankfully left unanswered. My last gaze wanders to your stony figure on the couch, but you don't react. "She's far away," the Vulcan woman says. "Maybe all for the better," I murmur, and leave. * "You did the right thing. Jim." Nogura sits in his chair, one palm flat on the table top. "Who would've thought that she's so unstable." "Sarek did," I say. "And he warned me. But I didn't listen to him." The view from Nogura's office is breathtaking, but I don't care for it today. I turn around and face my superior and friend. Nogura leans forward, folding his hands. "You were too close to her, Jim. It's easier to examine situations from a distance, and you know that." I look at him, wondering if I should tell him just how close I have been to her, but decide against it. No need to break any more china for nothing. "It doesn't make my guilt much easier to handle at the moment." "You could take a break, Jim. Vacation for a week or two." I walk to his desk and take the chair opposite to Nogura. "No, thanks. I'd actually prefer to work." "There's the scheduled mission with Spock. If you still want him as your first officer..." There's a long pause, where we both have time to think about it. "Yes," I finally say. "I don't think there'll be any repercussions due to Saavik. He's all but forgotten about her since the refusion." "Good. Then I think we should bring forward the start date." Nogura calls up the schedule. "Mr. Scott's report about the condition of the Enterprise is already on your desk. You can contact him immediately; as far as I see, he's more than eager to test his improvements." I'm smiling. It's a weak smile, but the first in weeks. "There are some constants in the universe, and Scotty is one of them." I get up. "Indeed." Nogura rises, too, and we're shaking hands. "Good luck, Jim." "Same to you, Heihachiro." I leave the building, facing the almost painfully bright midday sun. On the left, the outline of the Vulcan Embassy dominates the sky, accusingly reminding me that I've got to talk to Sarek, sooner or later. But not yet. Later. Much Later. *** ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. 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