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Date: Wed, 7 Jan 2004 02:35:38 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS: "The Farther They Fall", Sa/m, K, S, Mc, U, [NC-17+] 1/6
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The Farther They Fall


Title:  The Farther They Fall (or The Big Mama That Wouldn't Seem to 
End!)
Author:  T'Riva (rstrimble@sbcglobal.net)
Series:  TOS
Pairing:  Sa/m, K, S, Mc, U
Warnings:  NC-17+; The first 18 pp of this 57-page story are 
extremely violent, but this is mainly a story of dealing with that 
trauma.  It includes non-con sex (molestation, forced sodomy and 
rape); violence (beating and flogging); general nastiness; this 
story is not for the faint-of-heart.
Acknowledgements:  I would like to thank Selek for the fabulous beta 
read.
Archive:  Sarek and Amanda group; ASCEM; Sarek Fun Fest; Sarek Slash 
Page; others please ask.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns these guys; I just enjoy them for 
nonremunerative frolics.
Summary:  Kirk and Sarek get captured and try to survive a ruthless 

PART ONE - Held Captive

Zeta-Kesar: Class M planet on the edge of the Neutral Zone near the 
new border of the Romulan and Klingon Empires, now strategically-
located since the most recent incursion of Romulan forces into what 
had been Klingon territory.


Kirk felt his breath quicken at the implication.  Surely they 
wouldn't.couldn't.  But Sarek couldn't fight them; he had passed out 
sometime before Kirk was allowed in, and even if he could, he was 
far outnumbered, exhausted, chilled far beyond what a Vulcan could 
likely handle, and now, seriously injured.  Also, there were the 
plentiful weapons jangling on every belt of the rebels - every 
weapon of torture imaginable and likely happily used, given the 
opportunity.

But he had likely heard correctly, ".too pretty to waste this way, 
leave him for better things."  The guards had laughed and asked if 
they might have a turn.  The officer had replied that the ambassador 
should be served to the officers first, but with enough oil, who 
knows how long he could last."

He and Ambassador Sarek had dressed in simple clothes when they had 
realized there was the danger of discovery by rebel forces, hoping 
that they might not be recognized.  But Sarek's face, regal bearing, 
and voice could not be concealed by the plebian attire of a Vulcan 
trader.  They had recognized him immediately, Kirk believed, as all 
eyes shifted toward Sarek as he turned toward them.  They smiled and 
asked his name rather pointedly.  Upon giving a pseudonym, a guard 
backhanded Sarek with such force that he fell back and Kirk barely 
caught him.

Kirk's anger had boiled over at the obvious misinformation they had 
been fed.  They had been set up from the beginning.  Everything had 
appeared as it should when they had arrived, so the Enterprise had 
been sent out after a high priority distress call that had also 
probably been faked.  They had been receiving reports for close to a 
year that the violent rebels were being contained and that the 
capital city was a safe place to start negotiations between the 
dictatorship and those same rebels.

But the dictatorship had never had the control that their faked 
reports and holo scenes depicted.  They only had the technology to 
create the images to lure the diplomatic party in.  The elite's 
dictatorship had been dismantled and their leaders were held 
captive.  The Federation diplomat had been brought in as a scapegoat 
to mollify the furious rebels that had actually taken most of the 
planet.

From the adjoining cell, Kirk had been forced to listen to Sarek's 
jacket being ripped off, the crash as he was thrown across the cell 
into the wall, the rustle of chains and clank of cuffs being secured 
about his wrists, then the ripping of the back of his shirt, and 
finally the crack of the heavy whip again and again.  Kirk found 
himself cringing inwardly in empathy for the compassionate, 
dignified man who sought only to bring people together, and seemed 
to suffer endlessly for it, from what Kirk had seen.

The Patron stood just outside, between the cells, watching as Kirk 
tried not to react, and too often did, being laughed at heartily 
each time.  He kept Kirk up to date on Sarek's ability to stand, his 
swaying, minute signs of discomfort, and on the amount of skin left 
on his back. When Sarek had finally sagged and hung from the metal 
wrist cuffs, they stopped.  It had been much longer than Kirk 
would've thought possible, and he cursed the Vulcan control and 
pride that kept Sarek standing so long, thereby increasing his 
injuries and lengthening his suffering.

Two guards dragged Sarek's unconscious body unceremoniously across 
the hay-strewn floor and tossed him in a heap.  The remains of his 
tunic were shredded and mixed with blood and raw flesh, and now 
littered with dirt and scattered bits of hay.  Kirk was finally 
allowed to go to him.  He approached and rolled Sarek onto his side 
to keep the pressure and dirt from the open wounds and his face off 
the damp floor.

He felt Sarek shiver; heard an almost imperceptible moan escape his 
lips as Kirk tried to reposition him.  "Let me clean and bandage his 
wounds, at least," Kirk said roughly.  "And if you want him to last 
much longer, he'll need some warmth."  Guilt tugged at him - he, the 
military man, had not a scratch on him, while the ambassador, a 
civilian trying to help these people, lay bloodied, in immense pain, 
and cold to the bone.

The Patron grinned.  "Watching you cleanse him might entertain the 
guards, but I'd rather see you lie together under a single blanket," 
he leered and Kirk had to wonder if he was implying something 
sexual, but not for long.  "He will be nice to lay with, don't you 
think?"  He snickered and winked.

Kirk glared at the Patron, but softened his expression as he 
realized that any more punishment would be dealt to the ambassador, 
not himself. The rebels had decided that Sarek, being Vulcan, 
certainly would not tell them what was sought, and so decided to use 
him to get to the captain to provide them their bounty of 
information for use in their insurrection.

Water, rags and bandages were brought, and a single small blanket.  
More guards than necessary sat about the outside the cell, vying for 
the best seat.  Kirk positioned himself as best he could to block 
their view of Sarek and began to gently wipe away the blood and 
debris from amongst the wounds.  Sarek jerked slightly with each 
wipe.  He worked quickly, taking advantage of Sarek's 
unconsciousness to spare him even more pain upon his wakening.  Too 
little was left of the tunic, so Kirk ripped the remains from him.  
The guards chuckled and offered, "I think the pants should go to.  
They will soon enough, anyway."  The guards laughed heartily.

Kirk swallowed at the thought of what might come next for this man 
he had so admired and respected and was coming to think of as a 
friend.  Their shared experiences in sickbay while both recovered 
during the journey to Babel had only been the beginning, but it had 
sparked Kirk's interest in getting to know the man behind the often 
intimidating demeanor.

The ambassador had the adoration of a beautiful, generous, loving, 
and indubitable woman that Kirk felt drawn to immediately, and a 
complex relationship with his son, Kirk's closest friend, that 
involved incredible respect, a hair-trigger volatility and a deep 
devotion each seemed not to see in the other because of constant 
misunderstandings.  He had wondered if he would ever have the chance 
to get to know the man himself with family drama, battles, and 
treachery always taking the forefront in his presence.  But little 
by little, he had.

He had made so many assumptions about Vulcans based on Spock, and 
his father seemed to dispel almost every one of them after his heart 
operation, during their trip to and from the Babel conference.  
There was his obvious devotion to his wife to the point of 
distraction, and his odd almost quixotic tendencies toward both 
women and men that Kirk had attributed to the demands of his 
position.  Sarek could persuade and enamor with charm, magnetism and 
a devilish sense of humor that was both infectious and erotic.

And just like his wife, he showed a generous nature, whether it be 
to help a cadet confused by astrophysics she was studying as he did 
on the way to the Babel conference, the need for a musician to 
accompany Uhura in her singing.  Even an emotional pain to be eased 
by a brief mind touch.

Kirk had not thought Sarek would have had the sensitivity to glean 
his pain from the loss of Miramanee that welled up as he watched 
Amanda tend to Sarek and his attentiveness back.  But he had called 
Kirk over and subtly talked of the Vulcans use of a mind touch to 
lessen the pain of grief after there is little left of value to gain 
from it, and offered his touch.  Kirk was a surprised by the 
admission of grief by a Vulcan as he was by the offer of what felt a 
very intimate act as he accepted and experienced it.  He felt the 
pain ease as it seemed to sift from his mind, saw Sarek's body 
stiffen subtly, heard his sharp intake of breath, then his eyes 
closed then opened, glistening, and a flash of sadness crossed his 
features, then he looked again as he always did - confident and 
regal, in full control.

Sarek and Amanda ingratiated themselves together and separately all 
over the Enterprise.  Not knowing Sarek before except through the 
media, Kirk had considered that it might have been his gratitude and 
relief at having a second chance at life, but Amanda never seemed 
surprised by what she saw him do, or heard he had done, in this vein.

Then there was his completely illogical and provocative contrariness 
when cooperation would win him what he wanted, his need to poke the 
hive to watch the bees swarm angrily.  He seemed a man of depth and 
contradiction whichever way Kirk saw him.  Kirk had seen him at his 
worst - emotionally ravaged and defeated when the timeline sabotage 
had taken his wife, and with it the incredible courage it took to 
try to gain her back, and emotionally vulnerable in pon farr  when 
Lieutenant Teanae had taken advantage of his weakness and assaulted 
him.

Kirk had realized that Sarek's austere and indifferent mask was 
merely him trying to be the Vulcan most expected or needed to see in 
his position of authority.  Sarek was, however, more secure and 
comfortable with himself; he was not so rigid as his son in his need 
to appear in control.  Kirk was afraid how this experience might 
affect Sarek, because though he had been vulnerable and even 
defeated before, he had likely never been so brutalized or 
humiliated, if what he'd heard was going to happen.  He could not 
imagine a man of Sarek's stature, background, and dignity sodomized 
and raped.  The unfortunate irony was that these were exactly those 
things that made him these men's target.

He lifted him gently into a sitting position, laying Sarek's head on 
his shoulder to wrap the bandages around his chest.  Sarek let out a 
soft moan that just reached the guards.  "Hmmm, he is already 
getting hot from your embrace, Captain.  Just wait `til we have him 
in ours.  He'll really like what we're gonna give him."  A chorus of 
laughs followed.  

Captain Kirk gritted his teeth and tried to imagine how Sarek would 
have wanted him to respond.  He gave them no reaction - imagined 
they weren't there.  Sarek rolled his head and croaked a word that 
might have been "James".  Kirk shushed him gently.  "Rest.  I've 
just bandaged your wounds."

As he turned Sarek and started to lay him back on his side, he saw a 
gash on his forehead he hadn't noticed before, and swallowed.  The 
now-dried blood had oozed down the side of his face in rivulets.  
Head wounds were very serious for Vulcans.  He cupped and lifted 
Sarek's face so he was eye-to-eye with him.  Sarek's eyes were 
partially open, but looked cloudy with confusion - a bad 
sign.  "Sir," Kirk whispered as he tried to catch some recognition 
in those eyes.  "Sir!" he said loud enough now for the guards to 
hear.  Titters followed, and they echoed him, "Sir!" in the same 
anxious tone.

The eyes seemed to focus a bit, but the cloudiness remained.

"James?"  Sarek asked in a slightly stronger tone.

Kirk smiled.

"Where is my wife?"

Kirk frowned.  Could it already be too late?  He couldn't give up.  
Sarek was traumatized and confused, but with some rest, perhaps he 
would be himself again.  He had to believe that.  The Enterprise 
would come for them.  Soon they would discover the deception, and 
realize the likely explanation.

He could not help but think of Amanda on board.  He remembered her 
discomfort at leaving her husband behind.  Sarek explained how it 
was simply the preliminary meeting and it would be short and 
organizational, essentially of little substance, and that the 
capital was secured long ago.  But since it qualified as an area of 
unrest, Sarek wasn't comfortable about bringing her as he usually 
did.  Kirk had heard that Amanda had a bad feeling, perhaps that had 
also influenced Sarek to leave her somewhere where he knew she would 
be safe.

Kirk wondered if she had now heard that the distress call was 
probably faked and felt compassion for what she must be fearing for 
her husband, but he realized it was infinitely better than having 
her here to see this, or worse, to be assaulted herself.  The 
Enterprise would come back soon.  Hopefully, soon enough.

Sarek's eyes slipped closed and Kirk felt panic as he felt for a 
pulse on his neck.  It thrummed softly, perhaps too softly, but he 
was still alive at least.  He had to hope that the head injury would 
not kill him, and that his body would mend enough to survive until 
the Enterprise arrived.  It had been only a couple years since 
they'd almost lost him on the way to Babel.  He could not face 
Amanda and Spock with the news of Sarek's death, just as he could 
not imagine witnessing it himself.  Just as the rest of the crew had 
grown fond of him since the journey to Babel, so had he.  He had 
been as relaxed, warm and teasing on this mission as after his heart 
operation.

His reconciliation with his son had allowed him to be more himself 
and he had seemed sincerely motivated to get to know his son's 
friends, and continually drew out and comforted others by his mere 
personality and sense of humor alone.  Kirk quickly saw the 
charisma, magnetism and charm he had always heard of in the man and 
understood now why he was the ambassador extraordinaire.  His 
serious heart condition and rift with his son had seemed to suck the 
life out of him when Kirk had first met him. 

When Sarek had first arrived on the Enterprise, he had seemed so 
severe and cold, but with the back story filled in, it all seemed so 
understandable why he was not the same man they saw later.  They had 
all rushed to judgment, Kirk thought sadly, and taken Spock's side 
with poor Amanda caught in the middle trying to explain how such 
divergent views could coexist.  Yet what son sees his father 
clearly?  How many fathers act the tyrant out of desperation 
thinking that that might help protect the son?  Wasn't it usually 
the middle ground that held the grains of truth?

Sarek had been filled with hurt and disappointment in losing his son 
so early, young even by human terms when he left Vulcan for 
Starfleet.  Spock had been so resentful, independent, and angry at 
his father he felt did not care for or respect him (and wrong on 
both counts, Kirk had found out rather quickly).  That hurt only 
grew over the eighteen years, brick by brick, the lack of 
communication fortifying the anger and betrayal Sarek must have felt.

Then to come aboard the Enterprise full of his son's comrades and 
friends fiercely loyal to him, already ill with a dangerous heart 
condition; his wife realizing something was wrong and feeling Sarek 
was pulling away from her; fearing for her marriage as she had 
admitted to Kirk when Sarek had moved to a guest room in their 
house.  Likely it was easier than sleeping with a wife he couldn't 
be physical with, especially when he couldn't even explain why.  He 
had wanted to protect her, Kirk had figured, but had done more 
damage in the end.

All that stress plus the over one hundred representatives, half of 
whom attempted to corner him to argue about the vote, the volatile 
conference they headed to, the Tellarite ambassador regularly in his 
face, the murder, and the accusation of murder.  They had not given 
Sarek any leeway for the considerable stresses, and no chance to 
explain his side.  He and the crew had been so unfair to Sarek that 
he had to make the first move by involving his son in the teasing of 
his wife when some of the stresses had been relieved and he realized 
he would live.  Sarek never begrudged any of them that judgment and 
treatment.

He gently lay Sarek down on his side and saw him shiver again more 
forcefully.  He had to keep him warm.  Kirk pulled off his jacket 
and wrapped Sarek in it, then tucked the blanket about him.  He 
paused, not wanting to give the audience even more of a reason to 
mock them, but realized that Sarek needed all of the warmth Kirk 
could offer.  He slipped under the last of the blanket and lay down 
along Sarek's back spooning him as closely as he could without 
aggravating his injuries.

"What ya doin' under there, Captain?" one guard asked.

Another chimed in, "Stuff somethin' between his knees, Captain, and 
you can get at his package!"

"That'll make him feel better!" another added.

They all laughed at that.

"Captain don't know how to take advantage of a pretty ass and face 
ready for the taking!"

"He ain't got fight to stop you, Captain.  At least have a taste, if 
not a meal."

Kirk tried to focus elsewhere.  Nothing he could say or do would 
improve their situation, and too many things could worsen it.  He 
only hoped the guards kept to their orders to let Sarek recuperate 
until their intended sport the next day, at least.  But he could 
feel those eyes on their backs; feel the lust and rage directed 
toward them, and especially toward Sarek who he believed they 
resented for his comportment and station.

Kirk had the sense to question Sarek about the choice for this 
assignment.  Sarek had also felt trepidation about his ability to be 
heard by the rebel side that seemed to want to hate him before he 
said a word.  He was aristocracy incarnate to a world of the 
downtrodden and resentful, presumably held captive by the regal, 
spoiled, and callous minority.  He had all of the opportunity, 
wealth, and circumstance they could never have.  Except for his 
integrity, fairness, generosity, and compassion that they could not 
envision in him, he was the epitome of their mortal enemy.

The Federation Council argued that it was merely the beginning of 
long talks between the dictatorship and the rebel factions.  Sarek 
would certainly make a great impression on the elitist leaders and 
he could get the "ball rolling" as those leaders seemed to be 
seeking this resolution of hostilities out of the goodness of their 
hearts.  Sarek protested such an optimistic assumption, but they had 
at least thought that they would enter the safe capital city and 
organize and educate the leaders to mend their fences and possibly 
start their planet on the road to a possible Federation alliance, if 
not full admission.

Little contact had been made with the planet, as it had been hands-
off for many decades due to unresolved hostilities that were too 
threatening to visitors.  The majority of the world had an almost 
paranoid vision of visitors taking over their world due to 
skirmishes with both the Klingons and Romulans in the past.  Only 
the more street-wise and sophisticated traders had penetrated the 
established zones, and in the last decade, few traders slipped in 
and then escaped.  For almost a decade, only holovids had made it 
out and reports from the constantly changing leaders.

Kirk and Sarek had argued that there were too many discrepancies, 
and that the view of the planet suddenly sounded too serene and 
close to cooperation to be believed.  Strategically, it was a 
brilliant holding should the Federation acquire it, allowing a 
window into both the Klingon and Romulan Empires.  For all their 
resource-draining wars, it still was a fairly rich planet, not 
needing support but able to pay their fair share of Federation taxes 
if they received membership.  It was also mineral rich, which 
translated into dilithium.  So, the positive reports offered up a 
rationale, at least, to send in diplomat.

Ambassador Sarek was the best, and so the Federation ignored both 
Kirk's and Sarek's objections, and with trepidation, Sarek agreed 
and resigned himself to a steep battle of persuasion.  Who could 
have known that he would be so silenced before he could even marshal 
his first argument? 

Sarek might have had a chance to begin to state his case if he was 
allowed a few more hours to recover from his injuries, for he 
appeared to be in a healing trance.   But the rage beyond the bars 
had been burgeoning throughout the evening, and late in the night, 
as many of the guards fell asleep, one stood, and with a fierce 
determination, wanted to take the one who seemed so like those he 
hated.  He grabbed the key opposite the door, slid it into the lock 
and stepped in so quietly that no one noticed.

He stood and stared at the two soft faces in sleep, then stooped 
near the ambassador and traced the streak of dried blood on the side 
of his face and touched it to his own lips.  He imagined what the 
ambassador's mouth might taste like, perhaps a light reflection of 
this coppery blood his tongue savored.  He imagined tasting his 
lips, his tongue, biting down and cutting deeply as the ambassador 
fought him but could not pull free.  But there were even greater 
pleasures he might find with this soft-voiced prince.

He lifted the blanket and surveyed the wrapped chest, tight and full 
with well-developed muscles, and the expanse of soft skin above and 
below the gauze.  He traced the furls of hair just above the bandage 
and imagined the drifts that would lead to his nipples that were 
now, unfortunately, hidden under the dressing.  His finger traced 
the trail of dark hair that led into his pants.  His finger caught 
in the fastener, pushing it down to survey the upper groin.

He would have this prince before the officers.  He pulled out his 
dagger, newly sharpened and slipped it into the waistband.  With a 
quick slice, the crotch opened to the sight of a soft, stretchy 
undergarment, almost transparent over a mound of hidden flesh 
revealing a good-sized organ.  He felt his heart quicken as he 
reached underneath the soft material to feel the warm flesh and 
fondled the flaccid yet hefty penis.

Sarek groaned as his breathing accelerated.

The guard grabbed Sarek's hair and thrust his mouth over his to 
silence him as he masturbated his prize.

"Leave him be," Kirk growled with a ferocity that surprised even 
him.  The shock of what he saw, and worse, what might come of it, in 
front of him, filled him with rage.

"Wake the others and he'll die," the guard said, and the dagger 
whipped to Sarek's throat with breathtaking speed.  Kirk could see 
it poised over Sarek's carotid artery.  One flick and there would be 
no way Kirk could save him.  He also saw that the guard intended to 
continue his violation as he saw the hand underneath the sheer 
fabric still stroking Sarek's penis.  Kirk tried not to notice 
whether Sarek was responding, other than his breaths quickening.

Just how far would the guard go, and what chance would there be that 
this man might risk all - a loose canon that would give his life for 
this last act of defilement, out of lust, rage, and resentment?

"What do you want?"  Kirk asked, thinking that there might be some 
way to barter for later "gifts" from Sarek or himself.  More 
importantly, Kirk wanted to delay what might be inevitable.  He only 
had to get the man talking, and keep him talking to begin to develop 
a bond.  If he saw them as worthy beings in their own right, that 
might ameliorate the damage to come - something he had learned from 
Ambassador Sarek, himself.

The masturbation ceased.  Kirk swallowed and felt his fear-induced 
nausea decrease.

"You will strip him, and I will have all of him."  The guard looked 
around and frowned.  "There is no surface to lay him over."

Kirk felt shock roil through him.  Surface to lay him over!  Kirk 
had to force the sickening image of the guard's preparation of 
Sarek - the naked form draped forward, legs spread - from his head.  
The man seemed to be organizing his entire night's horrific 
entertainment in front of Kirk, as if he would gladly stand by and 
help with the tools and props.

The man was not set to bargain; he had simply thought Kirk was 
willing to allow him anything of Sarek in his fear for Sarek's 
life.  Then the nausea came back with a vengeance as he imagined 
what this man could do to Sarek and that at some point, Sarek might 
awaken to see Kirk as his audience.  His heart pounded at his 
impotence.  Sarek was so vulnerable now, and this man was a strong 
specimen of a strong species, loaded down with weaponry, bent on 
taking Sarek in every way he could think of.

They stared at each other for several moments, when the guard 
smiled.  "Is it really so much to ask, for the life of your 
succulent prince?"

The man looked down at his quarry and traced the bandages.  "It is 
too bad they damaged him so soon.  I would have liked to feel the 
length of his body against mine."  His eyes became hooded with lust 
as he caressed Sarek's face and licked his lips as if ready for an 
enticing meal.  "Pull off his pants," the guard ordered.  He looked 
distracted by his heady lust and glanced around the cell.  "We can 
bind him to the bars above the door."  He pulled off a leather strip 
from his belt that must have been a sort of garrote.  With a sick 
irony, he remembered losing consciousness, almost dying, by a very 
similar weapon at the hands of Sarek's own son.

The guard caught Kirk's anxious stare at it.

"I don't need to asphyxiate him while I take him."  The guard 
actually laughed good-naturedly.  "That's a fondness and privilege 
of the officers, which he will soon experience, no doubt.  I will 
bind his wrists with this, and leave some length to turn him so that 
I can taste his seed before I leave mine within him." 

Everything seemed to be accelerating out of Kirk's control.  He had 
thought by now the other guards might have awakened.  He was 
beginning to believe this man's revolting fantasy might actually 
take place, with Kirk powerless to stop him and being forced to 
watch as Sarek awakened.  It was a nightmare.  Why hadn't the guards 
awakened?  He stared at them as they lay still, mouths hung open, 
snoring.

The guard caught his appraisal of the guards. "Don't worry about 
them.  I added a little herb to their drink.  We'll have the whole 
night to enjoy him."

Kirk felt himself pale; the man thought he might join in?  There was 
little he could do but play along.  If he thought he was in on it, 
perhaps he might be afforded a chance to save Sarek from this.

The guard smiled at him.  "You realize your friend will never 
survive the officers, each man will be allowed to asphyxiate him a 
little longer as they take him, until the last officer gets to watch 
him die.  They like to see the light flicker out as the victim 
stares at he who takes him.  You feel them rock with your thrusts, 
see that last bit of terror, as their life force ebbs."  He seemed 
to shake himself out of his reverie, a bright smile on his face.  "I 
can't wait to be an officer; someday maybe I will watch that life 
force ebb as I ram him harder and harder."  He stared at Sarek's 
still form hungrily.  "I am almost tempted."

Kirk shivered at the thought.

"Let me get some drink for the occasion!"  He stepped out, leaving 
the door open slightly, then thought again about that, smiled, and 
locked it.

Kirk felt his mind racing.  Sarek was to die the next day, after 
this guard spent the night.  He stepped quickly toward Sarek.  If 
perhaps he could wake him.  Together they might be able to surprise 
or distract the guard.  He pulled Sarek up to a sitting position, 
careful of his wounds, but his head lolled; he was still unconscious 
in his healing trance.  Perhaps, if he knew of the danger, he could 
awaken for a short time.  He shook him lightly.  "Sarek.Sarek!  Wake 
up!"

Continued in next section...


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Date: Wed, 7 Jan 2004 02:36:03 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS: "The Farther They Fall", Sa/m, K, S, Mc, U, [NC-17+] 2/6
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Continued form previous section...

But the footsteps approached again.

Kirk laid Sarek back down, as the guard walked back in.

"I thought you would have stripped him by now," he said, already 
chugging a bottle of liquor.  "No matter, I'll enjoy ripping the 
last of his clothes off before I have him."

Kirk suppressed a shudder at that and then noticed that some of the 
spiked bottles of liquor were not yet empty, and looked the same as 
the guard's.

The guard stepped over to Sarek and lifted him onto his shoulder 
with ease.  He carried him to the bars where a crossbar hung about 
seven feet up.  The guard looked Sarek up and down.  "He's about six 
feet tall, I'd say."

Kirk nodded numbly, glancing at the bottle in the guard's hand, then 
at the bottle just outside the cell door.  He'd have to wait until 
the guard was distracted, unfortunately, and Kirk didn't want to 
have to think about what that distraction might be, exactly.  He 
couldn't think about that now, because what awaited the ambassador 
tomorrow would be far worse.  He had to focus on limiting the 
damage, and keeping Sarek alive, but if Sarek died, Kirk would 
ensure the reports would be vague.

The guard lifted Sarek up against the bars.  "Hold him will you."

Kirk held Sarek against the bars feeling oddly guilty in his 
acquiescence as he felt Sarek's dead weight lean against him, but he 
had to play along.  Then, as the guard retrieved his leather strap 
and tied Sarek's wrists together, Kirk had an idea - to lessen the 
damage should it come to that and which might provide a chance of 
escape.

"Lubricant," he said, blushing at the thought that this could also 
be seen as another  acquiescence, worse a very intimate one.

The guard looked up.  "Oil, yes, I can't leave any damage they might 
notice."

Kirk felt disgust for the man's total obliviousness to Sarek's 
needs, as if he was a nice steak the guard wanted for dinner - add a 
little seasoning, toss it on the grill.

 The man locked the door again, and ran off down the hall.

Kirk lowered Sarek and propped him gently but quickly.  He slipped 
his arm through the bars and reached, but came up several inches 
short of the first spiked bottle, no matter how hard he strained.  
He started to run for another he might reach when the guard came 
back down the hall.  He ran back to Sarek and lifted him back in 
place.  He thought about trying to wake him again in these last 
seconds, but realized his unconsciousness was probably for the best, 
psychologically and physically.

The guard stepped in with the oil and frowned at Sarek.  "I had 
thought he'd be awake by now."  He looked disappointed and 
pensive.  "I wanted to see his face when I ripped his clothes off.  
I was hoping he'd fight a little before I took him.  That makes it 
so much more enjoyable."

The nausea crept back up Kirk's throat as he couldn't help but 
imagine it.  What would a rape be without a violent subduing?  Kirk 
shuddered before he could help himself.  Luckily, the guard hadn't 
noticed.

The guard stepped up and pulled Sarek's tied wrists up to the 
crossbar and tied the leather to it.  Sarek's feet barely touched 
the ground.  His arm muscles strained holding his weight, showing 
how clearly defined they were.  The guard stroked down one. "Nice," 
he said almost breathless.  His hand traveled over Sarek's chest, 
scrabbling at the bandages, twirled through the hair at the slice of 
belly exposed, to his lower groin.  He stuffed his hand into Sarek's 
pants, grabbed his penis and rubbed it roughly with a sigh.  "He has 
a beautiful body."  The guard put his hand up to raise Sarek's 
face, "and such a pretty face.  Too bad he will be dead by tomorrow."

Kirk had to look away at the man's treatment of Sarek to hide his 
fury, lest he give away his true agenda.

"Perhaps some rilea would wake him."

This didn't sound good to Kirk at this point.

"An herb with a very potent scent."  He considered this.  "But then 
we will need a gag so he won't cry out."

Kirk was not sure if he meant out of the attempt to summon help or 
pain.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"What about a blindfold?"  Kirk couldn't help himself.  The thought 
of what might happen to Sarek, and having him see Kirk there.  His 
request was purely selfish on his part, and he felt guilty for that, 
but if what was likely to happen actually did, he wouldn't think he 
could look in Sarek's eyes if he saw Kirk watching.  And what would 
he think?  It might be easier for Sarek to not see Kirk.

The guard stared at Kirk.  "Why?  You are taking part and you don't 
want to watch his eyes?"  The guard looked shocked.  "That's the 
best part!  The fear, the humiliation, the resignation, the pain."  

Kirk noticed the bulge visibly grow in the guard's pants, and had to 
look elsewhere and focus back on the bottles.

He must have looked stricken, because the guard patted him on the 
shoulder.  "I will apply the blindfold while you are with me.  Then, 
I can put you in the next cell when I pull it off.  Would you like 
to be here at the beginning or the end?"

"The beginning," Kirk answered too quickly and hoped that the guard 
didn't notice.  He couldn't imagine leaving Sarek in here for hours 
alone with that monster.  At least he could provide some minimal 
protection.

"Okay, the rilea to wake him up, a gag, and." he laughed and shook 
his head, "a blindfold."   He started for the door but paused, "I 
will get you to look in his eyes as you take him."

Kirk's knees felt weak at the thought that he might have to do just 
that in order to save Sarek's life.  But could he actually do it?

The guard looked as if he were about to throw a party.  "I always 
like to use a mirror in their face.  You grab their hair and pull 
their face up as you thrust into them.  If I was an officer I would 
so enjoy the leather around this ambassador's neck while I thrust 
hard enough to split him in two.  I would pull harder and harder and 
watch the fear in his eyes."

Kirk saw the bulge in the guard's pants swell even more.

With a big smile, the guard locked the door and trotted off for the 
last of his tools.

Kirk launched for the bottle at the furthest end.  His fingers just 
missed the top.  He tried and tried, but it was also inches too 
far.  He stared at Sarek sadly.  He couldn't be this close to a 
chance to save him, and not.  Then he froze and looked at Sarek's 
chest.  The remains of his tunic!  He heard the footsteps coming 
back.  He launched himself for the tattered shirt.  Ran back toward 
the far bottle, held two ends of the tunic and threw it over.

The footsteps grew louder.  He pulled the bottom of the bottle 
toward him until it was close enough and lunged for it.  He ran to 
the other bottle and switched them.  He only hoped that the guard 
couldn't taste the drug in it, but the others hadn't, so maybe this 
would work out.  How long would it take?  He took a swig of the 
undrugged bottle and grimaced, then slipped it out near where the 
other had been.

The guard came back in.  "I assume you want the blindfold before the 
rilea?" he asked, then laughed.

"That liquor tastes like hell," Kirk said offhandedly, hoping to 
remind the guard to drink more, and at the same time sparing himself 
from having to risk drinking the drugged bottle, if offered.

The guard smiled.  "So now you are starting to enjoy yourself?"

He had stepped up and was about to blindfold Sarek, but held it up 
for Kirk.  "You're sure?"

Kirk nodded yes, fearful for the moment the guard would refuse.  
Then he covered Sarek's eyes.

"Oh, I've been daydreaming of this all day."

Kirk stared at the bottle, but couldn't risk giving himself away by 
bringing it up twice in so short a time.

The guard grabbed the gag.  "I would've liked to kiss him while he 
was awake.  He has a beautiful mouth - very sensual."  The guard 
brushed his fingers along Sarek's lips almost tenderly.  "Maybe 
later, when the blindfold is off I can sneak off the gag.  Just one 
long kiss and a solid bite to his tongue while he struggles against 
me the last time I take him."  The guard moved his hand to Sarek's 
throat as he said this and squeezed, leaning his weight into it.

Kirk shifted uncomfortably.

The guard added his other hand to Sarek's throat and his eyes 
gleamed with his smile.

Kirk began to wonder if all of this was a ruse, and he would simply 
strangle Sarek as he hung from the bar, but just as he was about to 
protest, the guard smiled at him.  "Oh, don't worry.  I won't spoil 
our fun.  I wouldn't want to waste him with so much planned."

The guard applied the gag, and uncorked the rilea.  He waved it 
under Sarek's nose and quickly he started to come around with a 
cough or two, but he still looked groggy and was likely very 
confused as to what was going on.

"The prince awakens," the guard announced.  Sarek's head came up at 
the voice.  "My lord, you are likely very lost."  The guard laughed 
in a friendly manner.  "I would like to know if you are aware of 
your surroundings enough to.interact with me.  Give me a nod for yes 
or a shake for no."  The guard said this very officially, but a cold 
smile alighted on his lips.

Sarek gave no response.

The guard's hand flew out and slapped Sarek hard across the face.

Kirk clasped his hands behind his back tightly to keep from 
interceding.  He glanced again at the bottle of liquor.

"I have your friend here," the guard said.

Kirk jerked his head up toward the guard.  He had said he didn't 
want to be seen, but would the guard let Sarek know he stood here by 
interacting with him in a friendly way?  He noticed Sarek didn't 
react at all - here diplomatic and Starfleet training were the same -
 no reaction is the safest for all parties if there is doubt as to 
your awareness.  Kirk noticed a bit more tension in Sarek's face, 
which translated into a show of great concern from a Vulcan trying 
not to react.  Kirk felt warmth toward Sarek flood through him for 
that.

"You have no servants here, my lord."  The guard smiled 
brightly.  "In fact, I think you will have to service me."  He 
grabbed Sarek's crotch.  

Sarek jerked, obviously startled.  His body tensed in what Kirk 
decided must be revulsion, but then his body relaxed and Kirk was 
willing to bet he would be reacting little to anything else done to 
him.  The clues for what was to come were not subtle.

"Now answer me with a nod meaning yes or a shake meaning no, or I 
will hurt your friend."

Kirk tightened his grip and looked down to not show his anger.

"Are you completely aware of your surroundings?" the guard asked.

Sarek shook his head no.

The guard flushed with anger, "You think you're so clever."  He 
swung again; a closed fist caught Sarek in the jaw.  The crunch 
shook Kirk - that sound would be teeth breaking and grinding flesh 
along the way.  A droplet of blood appeared at the edge of the gag.

"Other than the limitations of the blindfold and the gag, are you 
completely aware of your surroundings?" the guard asked.  "I will 
hit your friend next if you continue to play with me."

Sarek nodded yes.

"Good."

He reached up and tore Sarek's remaining clothes off with one sweep 
of his hand and stepped forward.  He pressed up against Sarek, his 
hands caressed then squeezed his buttocks.  "You have a beautiful 
body, Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan."

Kirk forced himself not to look away.  He had to steel himself for 
much worse he imagined.  He noticed a little shiver course through 
Sarek when the guard licked and bit his neck as he slipped his hand 
down to grab Sarek's penis and stroke it.  The guard had to pry 
Sarek's legs apart to reach between them.  

"Don't deny me access, Ambassador, or I will turn to your friend for 
my need."

Sarek relaxed his legs, allowing complete access as the guard parted 
them.  Kirk felt a burning hatred at the guard using him to coerce 
Sarek.

Sarek's breathing grew imperceptibly more rapid yet the tension in 
his face softened.  He was fighting to control his reactions, Kirk 
surmised.  Likely his injuries were still strongly affecting him.

The guard gripped Sarek's penis and rubbed it between his 
hands.  "You are absolutely beautiful."  He lowered himself to his 
knees and teased the organ with his tongue, flicking and tasting 
it.  Sarek's breathing grew more rapid then, suddenly, decreased to 
normal.  He tested the leather tie about his wrists.

"You will be under my.administration.for several hours.  You might 
as well relax and enjoy the attention."  He laughed, then took the 
rather large penis into his mouth as he fondled Sarek's testicles.  
The guard's other hand snuck around behind and Kirk had to look away 
as Sarek jerked in obvious response to being entered.  His breathing 
quickened then slowed again almost as quickly.

"Ah, Mr. Ambassador, you are nice and tight.  It will be an honor to 
be the first male who takes you.  You can think of it as your 
preparation for the many who will have you tomorrow.  That will be 
far more painful."

The guard suddenly stopped and stood.  "This will not do!  You are 
playing with me again, Mr. Ambassador.  You responded easily when 
you were unconscious.  This leads me to believe that you are somehow 
keeping yourself from becoming aroused.  Do I have to try this on 
your friend now?"

Sarek shook his head and lay his head back against the bars.  

The guard gave Kirk a knowing smile and wink.  "Now I will taste you 
before the meal."

He grabbed at Sarek's penis roughly and pulled Sarek from the bars 
with it.  He stuffed as much as he could into his mouth and grabbed 
at Sarek's testicles and squeezing and manipulating them roughly.

Sarek tensed from the pain as the guard thrust his fingers roughly 
into him again.  His breathing quickened.  "You're going to have to 
relax, Mr. Ambassador, or I am going to injure you when I shove 
something much larger in.

Kirk had to look away as he saw the guard greedily sucking the now 
large, aroused penis.  He focused instead on Sarek's chest as it 
heaved and the unbandaged parts of his skin flushed as he allowed 
himself to get excited, thereby supposedly protecting Kirk from the 
same treatment.  Kirk felt white hot anger at what the man was doing 
to Sarek; felt himself disconnected, as if he were anywhere but 
watching this eminent man being forcibly sodomized.

Sarek's breathing became ragged and then he shuddered, and a little 
breath of a moan escaped him as he climaxed into the guard's mouth.  
Kirk could not watch, yet what he heard and felt, being this close, 
made little difference.

"Well done, Ambassador, now." he flipped Sarek roughly and pressed 
him against the bars, then yanked out his hips and kicked his legs 
apart.  He looked around for a moment, "this will be a tight fit.  
Where's the oil?"

Kirk stared at the oil sitting next to the bottle of liquor, and 
could only hope.

The guard grabbed the oil, then glanced at the bottle of liquor and 
picked it up.  He set down the liquor and poured oil in his hand and 
started to massage Sarek's buttocks.  "Hmmm, beautiful."  He thrust 
his finger into Sarek a few times.  "Well, after tomorrow you 
certainly won't be tight!"  He laughed and looked over at Kirk, just 
missing his adam's apple bob.  

Kirk started to worry whether Sarek would receive any mercy at all, 
and whether it might be kinder for him to die here before being 
delivered to the officers.  His throat burned and his eyes misted at 
the thought.   He stared at the liquor that the guard had set down.

The guard pulled a long knife from his belt and Kirk cringed as he 
brought it down near Sarek's testicles and tapped them with the 
blade.  Sarek visibly tensed.  Then the guard brought the knife to 
the bandages and sliced them off in one savage stroke.  The back was 
layered with deep verdant stripes and severely damaged skin.  The 
guard dropped his pants.  A very large, erect penis leapt out.  He 
oiled it up and bounced it about between Sarek's thighs and kicked 
his legs even further apart.  He grabbed Sarek's hair with one hand 
and his huge oiled cock with the other as he started to place it 
behind Sarek and tease his buttocks with it.

"If there was ever a time to relax, Mr. Ambassador, this would be 
it."  He laughed merrily, then paused and looked back around and 
stepped back.  Kirk's heart leapt as he picked up the liquor and 
took a long swig and then a second, but then he rummaged around for 
something else he brought.  He picked up another of the leather ties 
that bound Sarek's wrists and twirled it as he smiled at Kirk.

Kirk swallowed hard.  Was it coming down to this?  Was he always 
intending to strangle Sarek as the officers would have?  Kirk 
stepped toward the guard.

The guard slipped the leather around Sarek's neck.  Sarek's head 
snapped up and tension filled every part of his body.  Did he 
believe at this moment he was about to die?  Kirk wished he could 
reassure and comfort Sarek, but he was worried himself.  What if the 
guard decided to throw caution to the wind for one last big thrill 
by taking what was meant for the officers.

Kirk saw that Sarek was still tense.  He watched as the Vulcan 
pulled again at the leather binding his wrists, testing it for any 
weakness, but the leather was too thick and supple, the knot too 
tight and multi-layered.  It had been a last futile attempt, but 
Sarek had little choice left but to try.  All of his muscles 
tightened.

"Now, Mr. Ambassador, this really is going to hurt a lot if you 
don't relax."  The guard sounded odd, almost giddy.  Kirk realized 
he was hoping to hurt him as much as possible.  The warnings were 
simply his way of reminding Sarek of what was about to happen.  He 
didn't look back at Kirk to reassure him though he had to have 
noticed Kirk getting closer.

The guard tightened the leather around Sarek's neck.  "Now you can 
still breathe, right?"  

Sarek nodded but he didn't look confidant to Kirk that it wouldn't 
get much tighter.  His breathing had accelerated; it was as if he 
could not calm his fear of dying while being violated.  Was he 
likely even now thinking of Amanda and what she might learn through 
the bond?  Knowing Sarek, he was blocking all of this from her.

But she would know through the bond if he died.  If Kirk couldn't 
stop what he feared most at this moment, there was no way that Kirk 
would let Amanda hear of the details of Sarek's death.

The guard set his huge, engorged penis behind Sarek and adjusted it 
slightly, poised for entrance.  Sarek stood tense, utterly at the 
mercy of the guard.  The guard twisted the leather.  Sarek sucked a 
breath in with difficulty.  Kirk tensed, trying to figure what to do 
if the guard continued tightening it.  He scanned the cell, but 
there was nothing left there. He stared at the ridiculous variety of 
weapons that were too securely attached to the guard's belt to do 
him any good.

In one forceful lunge, the guard rammed his huge penis into Sarek as 
he yanked and twisted the leather.  Sarek jerked from the onslaught 
and sucked in a last gasp of breath.  Kirk jumped, his heart 
pounding, the blood running in his ears as the guard held fast to 
the leather as he thrust himself again and again savagely into 
Sarek, pulling on the leather as if reins to a horse.  Sarek bucked 
against the assault, but with his hands tied, he was helpless.  The 
guard reached for the blindfold and ripped it off.  Grabbed Sarek's 
face and twisted it viciously toward him.  "Look at me as I take 
you," the guard screamed. "Keep looking at me.  Or I will kill your 
friend, too!"

"Nooo!" Kirk screamed and ran at the guard.

The guard swept his arm and Kirk flew across the cell.

He thrust harder into Sarek, his face twisted back to look into the 
guard's face.  Sarek groaned as he struggled pitifully, all of him 
taken by this man as he writhed his last.

 Kirk could only watch as Sarek's eyes, fastened on the guard, lost 
their luster, and sadness infused them as his eyelids started to 
droop, his body rocking with the violation that became more extreme 
with each pounding.

Sarek's eyes closed, and his head fell.

"Die, Ambassador, die!" the guard screamed, then laughed.  He held 
tight to the leather, twisting it yet again as he rammed himself 
into Sarek once, twice, three times and screamed with his climax, 
thrusting so hard Sarek's limp form flew into the bars again and 
again.  The guard gave the leather one last twist as he withdrew 
himself from Sarek.  The guard's knees collapsed.  He screamed like 
a madman until his body crumpled to the ground.  Sarek hung 
unmoving, the leather still tight around his neck.

Kirk ran to Sarek and ripped off the leather strap.  He wasn't 
breathing.  Kirk lunged at the guard and detached the knife, ran 
back and sawed the leather from Sarek's wrists.  Sarek collapsed 
into Kirk's arms and he laid him on his back and yanked down the gag 
and checked for a heartbeat, finding none.  Kirk tilted Sarek's head 
back, pulled open his mouth and blew as much air in as he could 
three times, then pressed hard over his heart five times.  He 
started again when strong hands pulled him away as he screamed 
again. "Nooooo!"

A hypospray hissed on his arm and the cell around him faded.

Continued in next section...


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Date: Wed, 7 Jan 2004 02:36:19 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS: "The Farther They Fall", Sa/m, K, S, Mc, U, [NC-17+] 3/6
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Continued from previous section...


PART 2 - Coming to Terms


Kirk awakened in the Enterprise sickbay on a diagnostic bed.  In the 
next bed over lay Sarek, sleeping or unconscious, but obviously 
alive from the readings above his head.  Movement caught his eye.  
He heard footsteps, and turned to discover Doctor McCoy, whose 
slight smile betrayed his concern.  

Kirk looked back over at Sarek. "Is he asleep?"

"More like half-conscious," McCoy said, his eyes glistening.

"How is he?  Kirk asked.

"Lucky to be alive," McCoy said.  "He's on heavy pain meds and 
sedated.  His head injury will keep him, at the very least, dizzy, 
groggy, and uncoordinated for awhile."

Kirk stared at him, obviously wanting more.

"A few seconds more without oxygen and his brain would have shut 
down irretrievably," McCoy said.  "It's a moderate head injury, but 
then Vulcans don't survive anything more serious." McCoy did not 
meet Kirk's gaze. "He has some serious internal injuries as well."

"Have you talked with him yet?" Kirk asked, hedging, hoping for some 
clue as to what McCoy knew without volunteering anything before he 
had a chance to talk to Sarek.

McCoy stared at Kirk for several seconds, then stared at Sarek and 
cocked an eyebrow.  "I know about the rape," he said quietly.  
McCoy's eyes warmed as he watched him.  Kirk realized the physical 
evidence for that would have been clear, especially with that level 
of violence.

McCoy continued, "He hasn't been conscious enough to be coherent.  
Anyway, I didn't feel it would be beneficial to his overall health 
to try questioning him about what I could discover on my own, and."  
He looked as if he regretted that last word, and looked away.

Kirk felt his insides twisting.  "And?"  He knew whatever McCoy held 
back wouldn't be good.

"I witnessed the assault," he said.  Then corrected, "We witnessed 
it."

Kirk paled at what they must have seen.

"We had the two locked gates to get through.  We couldn't blast them 
without attracting guards from the other sections, so we had to use 
a code-key generator.  It took about a minute or two."

Kirk thought back.  That had to be the entire time Sarek was being 
strangled and he shuddered.

Both McCoy and Kirk looked back to check on Sarek - still 
unconscious.

McCoy continued.  "I didn't think we'd make it in time, and to watch 
that monster do what he did while we stood helpless."  He closed his 
eyes.  "If that guard had not passed out, Sarek would be cooling in 
the morgue instead."

"I drugged him," Kirk said, now fitting in what must have 
happened, "but it took longer to act than I'd hoped."  So he wasn't 
impotent after all.  He did all he could do.  He just hoped it was 
enough.

"Quick enough to save his life," McCoy added to emphasize its 
importance.  "We just have to keep an eye on him to make sure his 
larynx doesn't swell closed."

"Who else saw?"  Kirk asked.  Then he swallowed, feeling his heart 
begin to pound.  "Not Spock!"

"No!  Thank God!"  McCoy said and looked as is he felt ill at the 
thought.  "Uhura was there."

Kirk swallowed hard.  Uhura had become close to both Sarek and 
Amanda.

"And Sulu, and a security detail.  They're all pretty shook up."

Kirk swallowed.  "Does Amanda know yet?"

"I didn't have the heart."  McCoy looked up and his eyes looked 
pained.  "She'd seen the head injury, and the gouge and bruises from 
the attempted strangulation and her knees gave out.  I sedated her."

Kirk couldn't help but wonder how they would tell her.


---ooOoo---


Spock stepped in not long after to update the captain before he was 
released.  Kirk noticed Spock's brief glance at his father, and had 
had years to learn to recognize the concern in his eyes.  He knew 
McCoy had given him the general information, but had left the worst 
to Jim.

Kirk was released and brought Spock to his cabin to talk.  He first 
poured himself a stiff scotch.

Spock refused the offer.  "I would rather just hear what you wanted 
to tell me privately." 

Kirk paused, his mind frozen at how best to begin.  "There is no 
easy way to tell you this," he stalled, realizing he sounded like a 
bad movie, but at least he had begun.

"Please, Jim," Spock prompted almost impatiently, then looked 
away.  "If my father is dying."

"No, God no," Kirk said.  "At least I don't think so.  I doubt it.  
I hope not.  No."  

Spock seemed to stare deep into his eyes as if he might net the 
answer from their depths.  "Rest assured, my father will always be 
taken care of, no matter what his mental state is," Spock said 
quietly.

Kirk realized Spock thought his father's head injury might be too 
devastating to recover from.  To be brain damaged, for a Vulcan, 
would be worse than death.

He realized that Spock had likely suffered more imagining the worst, 
so he just said it.  "Your father was sexually assaulted.  
Violently."  Kirk watched Spock for a reaction, but only got a 
firmer posture and a cooler expression.

"That would be the serious internal injuries the doctor referred 
to," Spock said, his head bowed as if considering.  "I had wondered 
how they had come about and why he did not specify."

"I'm sorry, Spock."

Spock looked up.  "As a diplomat, traveling throughout the galaxy to 
settle disputes, he has always been in a vulnerable position, if not 
a target.  It was always a possibility that I am sure he came to 
terms with long ago.  My father has gone through much in his many 
years in the Diplomatic Corps.  He is strong and resilient; he will 
overcome this unfortunate occurrence without undue emotionalism or 
indulgence, as he has others in the past."

Kirk felt immediate rage, but contained it.  He had attacked his 
First Officer before for precisely this cold analysis only to find 
it a front when dealing with what bothered him most.  He could not 
believe Spock could be so unaffected by his father's sexual 
assault.  Could Spock truly think his father was so impenetrable?  
He wondered how clearly Spock saw his father, instead of the 
paradoxical hero and tyrant he had envisioned as a child.  Kirk 
decided to handle it in a calmer fashion that might instill seeds of 
doubt so that Spock might consider offering support to his father 
and continue to deepen their understanding and support of one 
another.  

"I wonder," Kirk said, "if you don't have higher expectations of 
your father than he would ever consider expecting of you, Spock?"

Spock looked at him quizzically.

"He has feelings, and monumental pride, even though they are 
supposedly suppressed.  He takes comfort in your mother and worries 
about her constantly.  He also fears for your acceptance and 
contentment and is hurt by your distance.  I can't see how you can 
miss all of these things.  Did you ever stop to think that he might 
need you, even more than you need him?"  He stared hard at Spock.

Spock looked vaguely hurt and almost dumbfounded, then shifted and 
turned as if to reply, but Kirk cut him off.

"I don't want to hear any argument until you think hard about what I 
said.  And think about who you would actually be defending, if you 
were to argue this - your father, or yourself for your imagined 
archetype of a father."


---ooOoo---


As Kirk returned to sickbay hours later, Amanda stepped in looking 
sluggish and tearful.  She had obviously not waited to sleep off all 
of the sedative.  Kirk stepped over to her side.

"I want to see my husband again," she said quietly.

Kirk took her to him and since he had not had a good look himself 
since his arrival aboard, he stared at the ambassador.  The gouge 
about his neck was ugly and deep, bruises mottled much of the skin 
around it.  Kirk swallowed at the thought of how close Sarek had 
come; how he had lost consciousness likely assuming he would die 
while violated.

Amanda held her hands to her husband's face and kissed his lips 
lightly, then his forehead, then each cheek.  She traced the scar of 
dermal regeneration down his left temple where it met with abrasions 
and bruises and then more bruising around his jaw to his lips, 
swollen on the left side where the lip was split from being hit.  
She slipped her fingers slightly under the cover that ended just 
under his shoulders and paused, her fingers shaking.

Kirk snared them, and secured them between his hands.  He was 
thankful she could not see her husband's back as yet, or the 
significant damage from the violent rape.  A sheet of permaskin was 
generating new skin cells on his back in a thin layer between him 
and the bed.  Though Amanda hadn't noticed, her husband was actually 
suspended one quarter inch above the bed while the process was 
active, to relieve the pressure on the wounds and, therefore, also 
alleviate any pain from that pressure.

Her eyes were wet as she looked up into his.  She looked so frail 
and afraid, seeming a completely different person than when she 
stood smiling with Sarek by her side, gently teasing him, and always 
ready to rein him in.  "I want to see what else they've done to 
him."  Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

"He's alive, and will be well again," Kirk promised, though not 
quite sure of that himself.  He reached to hug her, but she wouldn't 
allow it.

"You and the doctor need to get your stories straight."  She sounded 
angry.

Kirk was concerned now, but tried to hide it.  "What did he say?"  
He felt his stomach tighten, wondering if McCoy had been protecting 
him from the whole truth.

Amanda looked at him, confused.  "He said there are a lot of ifs 
with head wounds and asphyxia, especially with Vulcans, but that 
things don't look nearly as bad as they could be."

Not terribly reassuring, Kirk thought.

"I am going to ask him to quit the Diplomatic Corps.  No, I am going 
to make him quit.  He's a brilliant and gifted man; he could do 
almost anything else."  Her voice caught.  "I never thought I would 
do that to him.but."

Kirk swallowed.  There seemed to be no end to Sarek's miseries from 
this.  "You need to give yourselves some time before making any 
decisions."

"Oh, Jim, you don't know how many close calls he's had.  How many 
times I'd thought he was dead.  How many times he was held captive 
and, God knows what was done to him."  

Kirk swallowed at this, realizing he was complicit even now in 
withholding the truth from her.

She took a shuddering breath and continued.  "Every time I hear a 
loud noise, I think that it's an explosive device and I have to 
think of where he is and if he's still alive!"  She sucked in a deep 
breath to stop her shuddering, "Twice I heard on the news that my 
husband was assassinated.  Can you imagine how that feels?"

Kirk reached for her and she let him hold her now.  She felt even 
smaller in his arms as she continued, "They showed his limo 
exploding only a year after we were married.  I was visiting my 
parents; he was on his way there.  My father almost had a heart 
attack seeing that.  But the bomb had mis-signaled.  The driver was 
killed instantly.  Sarek had just stepped out less than five minutes 
before."

They heard a faint noise from Sarek and both turned and stepped 
toward him.  His eyes looked foggy still, but they seemed to focus 
on Amanda, and concern was clear in them.

Amanda picked up his hand and held it tight as she leaned close.  
Kirk stood just behind her, watching Sarek closely.

He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open.  He struggled to 
speak, whispering something so softly, neither could hear.  Amanda 
leaned close.  Kirk leaned in behind her.  "Are you well, beloved?" 
he whispered so very quietly, straining even to get that out.

"Yes, my love," Amanda said.  "How are you, sweetheart?"

To this Sarek allowed a slight smile, and whispered, "Tired." and 
his eyes slipped closed again.  Amanda kissed him softly on the lips 
again, then turned to Kirk and kissed him on the cheek.  "I think 
he's going to be all right, with time."

Kirk left them, closing the door to the private room and went to 
visit with McCoy.  He had only been there ten minutes when Amanda 
burst into the office, surprising them both so that McCoy slopped 
coffee over his most recent report.

"It appears you've left out some details regarding my husband," 
Amanda said, her voice darker than they'd ever heard it.  It was 
immediately clear why Sarek seemed to avoid her wrath.

McCoy and Kirk traded concerned glances.

"He'd been having trouble sleeping."  Amanda started, still glaring.

McCoy interrupted, "That's to be expected, with a head injury and 
the drugs."

"Being his wife, I took the prerogative of trying to help him 
relax."  Her eyebrows rose as her eyes darkened further.

McCoy got the gist immediately and stared at his coffee.  He'd had 
Sarek in sickbay for more than a week after his heart operation and 
he knew exactly what she meant.  She had asked then if it would be 
safe to help her husband relax through "gentle manipulation" - a 
hand job or fellatio he had gathered when she had winked and 
smiled.  

When he had assured her it would be safe, she frequently visited to 
relax her husband.  After her visits, Sarek had slept like a baby.  
It was certainly safer and healthier than the additional drugs it 
would have taken, and had provided a further workout, besides the 
regimen he had prescribed, to strengthen his repaired heart.  It had 
also seemed to keep them very close and their spirits up as he 
recovered.

Kirk stared at her, confused.

"We were going to tell you soon," McCoy said softly.

"Not soon enough!  When I reached between his legs, he nearly jumped 
off the bed, and he can barely move on his own."  Her pain reached 
her voice and mixed with her anger.  "In over forty years of 
marriage, my husband has never once refused me intimate relations.  
Until now."

Kirk understood finally and felt saddened that Amanda had to find 
out that way.

McCoy cleared his throat and set his coffee down.  "There was a 
sexual assault."

"Obviously!"  Her anger rocketed back with a vengeance.  "Perhaps if 
I'd known, I wouldn't have added to his trauma just now!"

"I'm sorry," McCoy said, "but we were concerned for you, too.  We 
thought it best not to burden you with too much at once."

Amanda's eyes lit up.  "I don't even allow THAT from my husband, as 
you well know!  How dare you!  He was attacked and I need every 
detail so that I can piece him back together."

"Yes, ma'am," McCoy said.

Amanda glared at Kirk, who couldn't meet her eyes.  "You knew, too, 
didn't you!"

Kirk swallowed as he caught her glare.  "Yes, ma'am."  He had heard 
that Sarek and Amanda had had some firestorms of fights.  Now he 
believed it.  She looked ready to tear him to shreds with her bare 
hands.

"I want every detail of what happened, in case my husband decides to 
block any memories from me and become 'creative' with the truth 
again."  Her sarcasm was scathing.

McCoy nodded.

"I also want to view all evidentiary and documentation holos taken, 
both public and confidential."

McCoy's eyebrows rose into his hairline.  "Now wait just a minute!"

Kirk felt shock at the thought that she would see crystal clear 3-
dimensional images of all of her husband's injuries.  By law, since 
Sarek had been representing the Federation, holos of any and all 
injuries received during a mission were taken immediately upon his 
arrival to sickbay and then again after being cleaned for a clearer 
view of the damage.  This included the anal/rectal damage, external 
and internal, that had to be taken.  Kirk couldn't even bring 
himself to look at them, though as captain, he was supposed to.

Amanda's eyes turned icy.  "Federation law cannot pre-empt Vulcan 
law in matters of privacy, Doctor.  Vulcan required that contingency 
before their acceptance of admission to the Federation.  Since my 
husband is Vulcan, this applies to us.  The Vulcan Privacy Code 
allows a husband no privacy from his wife with regard to medical 
records due to the dangers and lack of judgment brought on by pon 
farr, but I believe you know that."

It was a twisted irony, Kirk realized, that the Vulcan Privacy Code, 
used as a shield innumerable times by Sarek to protect his privacy, 
was now being used as a sword against him by his own wife.  It would 
kill Sarek to find out Amanda had seen those holos.

Just because she could, would she actually view them?  And if she 
did, would she actually tell Sarek?  She had become ferocious in 
guarding his health without regard for his privacy, but Kirk didn't 
believe she would actually take advantage of or hurt her husband 
unnecessarily, unless perhaps out of anger should he try to hide 
something else from her or casually risk his health or life in some 
way.

Kirk noticed McCoy took a breath to calm himself before responding 
to her shocking request.  His face had reddened, his eyes 
steely.  "Propriety would require a wife would request the viewing 
of confidential images of her husband in the rare circumstances 
where the viewing is necessary.  That privilege is extended even to 
young children."

"Doctor, did you think Sarek could withhold that he'd had heart 
attacks from me without effect or sanction.  He lost that privilege 
when he did so."  Her voice was calm, but the anger behind the words 
stunned Kirk.  This was a side of Amanda he had never imagined.

She had obviously not forgiven Sarek for not telling her of his 
previous heart attacks, and would use it as a weapon to afford her 
better leverage in protecting his health and safety.  Kirk had to 
wonder then what she had meant when she said she would "make him" 
quit the Diplomatic Corps.  What else might Sarek have given up to 
appease his wife for his earlier withholding of information?

Kirk had heard that T'Pring had lost her status as an equal to her 
new husband Stonn due to invoking the challenge upon one other than 
her chosen, thereby risking "innocents" to protect her desired 
intended.  She had in essence become Stonn's property because of 
that.  Though Kirk detested the woman, the thought of someone 
becoming the property of another made him nauseous.

For such a seemingly sophisticated and advanced society as modern 
Vulcan was, sometimes their completely unorthodox and unexpected 
wrinkles tied to ancient ways caught Kirk off guard.  He had to 
wonder if somehow Sarek had lessoned his status as compared to his 
wife, if somehow she gained a power over him to make choices he 
would normally never concede.

Vulcan was a matriarchal society, Kirk remembered, and in essence, 
those in power take that power for themselves more often than not.  
He knew that during pon farr, a male could refuse absolutely nothing 
to his wife.  Yet a wife, by law, could refuse even her body to her 
husband during his Time and thereby force him to endure a death 
that, Kirk had heard, was the most painful in, at least, known 
history.  Kingdoms had changed hands as wives watched husbands 
writhe in agony, slip into insanity, and die.  Sarek's most recent 
pon farr had been quite recent, less than a year after the journey 
to Babel, and they had ended up on the Enterprise.  Kirk remembered 
that crisis all too well.  Could Amanda have forced him to give up 
certain rights then?

There was much Kirk didn't know about Vulcan society so full of 
bizarre contrasts and seeming oxymoron's, like the peaceful people 
surrounded by deadly weapons ready for use at every ceremony and 
gathering.  There was really no way to know what Amanda might hold 
over him, perhaps nothing but his incredible devotion or a 
significant promise in a vulnerable moment unconnected to pon farr.  
Kirk decided that he must try to warn Sarek of what his wife knew, 
before he had the chance to worsen her trust in him even further and 
likely force her to view the holos and even to tell him she had 
viewed them.

Amanda continued, "And I want a full psychological evaluation.  
Again, being the wife of a Vulcan, I am allowed full disclosure."

Kirk grimaced.  He didn't believe that Sarek would be happy about 
that, either.  McCoy looked sad and shook his head.  Vulcans viewed 
psychological exams as an indignity if done voluntarily, a disgrace 
if forced upon them, likened to being locked up in an insane asylum 
for a human - a questioning of their essence as a Vulcan.

Amanda sat down and looked expectant.  Though they tried to soften 
the details, they told her everything.  She looked vacant and numb, 
though she said she was fine.  McCoy called Uhura to come spend time 
with her, and watch her.  None of them wanted to burden Sarek with 
her reactions to all she had learned.

While they awaited Uhura, McCoy tried to head off another 
disaster.  "Amanda, now that you know everything, well, I couldn't 
help overhearing about what you'd said to Jim about the Diplomatic 
Corps."

Amanda looked up at him.  "Already marshalling your defense of 
him?"  She didn't sound angry, but she eyed the doctor and then Kirk 
with suspicion nonetheless.  "Had my husband the faculties for it 
since.his injuries. I would think he'd been lobbying all of you, or 
is it his soft-spoken nature and seeming vulnerability that garners 
all of this sympathy?" 

McCoy looked saddened.  "No, it's not my business, I admit that.  I 
just hoped that you would let Sarek recover before laying that on 
him."

Amanda almost smiled.  "I love my husband too much to hurt him when 
he's down.  I'll wait until he's formidable again before starting 
that round.  You see, Doctor, both my husband and I are wolves in 
sheep's clothing, and we each would protect the other to the bitter 
end.  Do you not think he would be this aggressive, if not more so, 
if he thought my life depended on it?"  She arched an eyebrow at 
them, so like her husband did that it took some of the sting away.

After the short, truncated blow-out at Sarek on the journey to Babel 
after his and their son's teasing of her, Kirk had realized she was 
no shrinking violet, but he didn't realize she was such a force to 
be reckoned with.  Kirk smiled but felt unnerved by the boxing 
metaphors and the realization that this woman was formidable herself 
and could be calculating and even ruthless.

It made him respect Sarek even more to fathom that they had made it 
through forty years together.  To think Kirk had first thought of 
her as only a trophy wife unveiled a shocking dichotomy.  He 
wondered how many underestimated her, and how many paid dearly for 
that mistake.  He was not surprised by the fact that Sarek generally 
referred to himself and his wife as a diplomatic team.

Continued in next section...


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Date: Wed, 7 Jan 2004 02:36:38 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS: "The Farther They Fall", Sa/m, K, S, Mc, U, [NC-17+] 4/6
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Continued from previous section...


---ooOoo---


Sarek slipped into a healing trance for several days after arriving 
in sickbay.  He was asked about constantly, and had frequent 
visitors though still unconscious.  Amanda would read to him and 
hold his hand as she watched him.  Uhura would play the lyrette and 
sing to him.  Most simply walked in and out in hopes that he might 
have just awakened to the point that McCoy put up a sign on the 
outer door saying `No, he is not awake yet.  Go away!'

When Kirk first heard that Sarek had awakened from the healing 
trance, he felt anxious.  He wasn't quite sure how Sarek would react 
to him or, in fact, how he would react to Sarek.

He realized that more than a few hours had passed since he had meant 
to visit him and felt even more guilty and uncomfortable about their 
now delayed first meeting.  He realized it would only get worse, so 
he forced himself to go, deciding that he would only stay a short 
time.

To prepare Kirk, McCoy had mentioned that it would still be a long 
road before Sarek was even close to his old self, but that he seemed 
anxious to interact and get about, though he was nowhere near alert 
or mobile yet.  The healing trance had been far less effective than 
it should have been due to the head injury; however, the signs were 
good that he might regain all that he had lost with time.  There 
were, of course, no guarantees.

When Kirk entered sickbay, he was shocked when he saw the doped up, 
stiff and wobbly Sarek trying to stand for the first time with the 
help of his wife and McCoy.  It would almost have been amusing, 
except for the events that precipitated it, though Sarek seemed 
actually to be enjoying the absurdity of the situation.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking half asleep still, and 
exhausted already.  He swayed a little and tried to lay back down 
but McCoy refused to let him and pulled his arm over his shoulder.

"This does not seem like a good idea," Sarek whispered.

Kirk froze at the bare whisper Sarek could still only manage.

Amanda spotted him hovering in the door and waved him in.  "Captain, 
could you help us?  Sarek is concerned that we can't support him."

Kirk flushed at being caught at the door, then tried to cover by 
immediately stepping in to take Sarek's arm from Amanda.  Sarek 
still looked reticent as he edged off the bed.

"Just try to balance your weight for as long as you can," McCoy said 
in an encouraging tone.

"If I don't land on my face, I will consider this a success," Sarek 
quipped in his whisper-croak.

Kirk couldn't help but smile as he tried to avoid pressing into 
Sarek's back injuries by gripping his other side.  Sarek tensed 
immediately and Kirk couldn't be sure if it was from his touch, or 
readying himself for a possible crash to the floor.  He felt Sarek 
attempting his balance even sitting up, leaning the wrong way often 
enough that McCoy and he had to compensate against him back and 
forth.

One slippered foot landed on the floor, then the second and he 
attempted to steady himself.  "Is this sufficient? " Sarek asked.

McCoy shook his head.  "The sooner you can stand, the sooner you can 
walk and then escape to the observation deck or the shower, your two 
favorite places to run to from sickbay it seems."  McCoy grinned at 
unfurling the tidbit he had learned.

"Actually, there are three favorite places," Sarek said quietly.  
Amanda immediately started laughing and shot a dark look at her 
husband.

McCoy exchanged raised eyebrows for an uncomfortable smile from 
Kirk.  "I don't even want to imagine," McCoy said.

Sarek seemed to lean back and forth between them and Kirk had to 
wonder if his lack of balance was due to his head injury, the 
asphyxiation, or simply his leg muscles needing to rememorize the 
process of balancing his body.  But after a matter of moments, 
Sarek's legs started to shake and he and McCoy lifted him back on 
the bed and leaned him back on the pillow, where he promptly fell 
asleep.

Amanda smiled at her husband as she retrieved the blanket and 
covered him.  She tucked the covers about his neck, gently caressed 
the edges of his hair, and softly kissed his lips and sat watching 
him with adoration as she stroked his cheek.  Her actions were such 
a contrast to her earlier unethical and immoral stripping of her 
husband's rights that Kirk and McCoy couldn't help but stare at the 
gentle intimacy toward him.  Kirk motioned McCoy to the office for 
privacy.

Once they had closed the door, Kirk asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

McCoy's eyebrows rose.  "In what respect?  You saw what I saw."

"His balance?" Kirk said.

"Give him time to adjust.  Head injuries can cause many different 
and divergent symptoms in a Vulcan.  And part of that is likely his 
leg muscles coming back."

"He's making jokes," Kirk said.

"He made jokes before," McCoy replied.

"But after.?"  Kirk didn't even want to finish.

"He's trying to come to terms with what has happened; we all have 
our different ways of coping.  He's likely very confused as to how 
to deal with it, especially a man as reserved and private as Sarek.  
Amanda seems to be tuned into exactly what he needs, thankfully."  
McCoy thought about what he had just said, "excepting of course for 
his privacy and his self-determination."

Kirk ignored this last bit, trying to focus on Sarek's physical 
welfare first.  "She acts like nothing's happened when she's around 
him."

"She looks him in the face and interacts with him.  She shows him 
warmth and entertains him.  I'd say that's exactly what he needs.  
He probably feels like a bug under glass the way people have already 
been tiptoeing around and watching him, and he's only been truly 
aware of it for a matter of hours."

Kirk blinked at the seeming indictment, unsure if it was general or 
aimed at him.

"Talk to him Jim, like you used to.  You're probably as close to him 
as anyone on this ship besides his wife.  Hell, play chess with him 
or bring him a donut and coffee like that time on the observation 
deck.  He appreciated that.  To be honest, Jim, with Sarek more than 
anyone, it seems it's the thought that counts."

Kirk pondered what McCoy said.  He felt badly that his own 
discomfort seemed so obvious to others already.  He wondered if 
Sarek picked up on it and Kirk felt even worse.

"He's still having trouble sleeping?" Kirk asked.

"Likely the middle of the night will be the worst of it, with no one 
around to tire him.  He can't seem to concentrate long enough to 
read yet, though that's improving.  I've brought him music discs and 
set up computer access, but the computer seems to tax his 
concentration and patience.  From past experience with him, he'll 
get restless and stressed without even that and with his 
claustrophobia eating at him."  McCoy stared at him; the implication 
was obvious.

"Thanks!"  Kirk said, then started off to gather some ideas, feeling 
hopeful and reenergized.


---ooOoo---


At about 2:30 am, Kirk stepped back into sickbay with his arms full 
and piled all of his findings just outside the door, then retrieved 
two decafs with cream and two chocolate-covered glazed donuts.  He 
knocked, heard the whispered "come in" and found Sarek playing an 
archaic computer game that looked like a game of tennis on a 
screen.  He at least looked amused at Kirk's reaction.

"This is what I am reduced to for the time being, it appears," Sarek 
said.

Kirk smiled, but forced himself not to laugh, since he wasn't sure 
if it had been a joke, or just sad for what had been, and hopefully 
would soon again be, a brilliant and incredibly skilled man.

A little delayed, Sarek noticed what Kirk carried and looked almost 
pleased.  "You have come to my rescue again with chocolate."

Kirk smiled, but had trouble meeting his eyes.  He set one coffee 
and donut on the bed tray and put it where Sarek could reach it with 
ease.

"I fear the donut may be against the rules," Sarek said.

"I came prepared."  Kirk whipped out a knife and diced Sarek's donut 
into tiny pieces.  McCoy had mentioned that Sarek's esophagus would 
be too sensitive to all but liquids and tiny pieces that weren't 
rough or hard.

Sarek's eyes glistened and he cleared his throat though it did no 
good.  "You continually surprise me, James."

Kirk felt his throat tighten at Sarek's reaction to Kirk's 
forethought.  "I'm sorry about earlier."

Sarek looked Kirk in the eye when Kirk forced himself to meet his 
gaze.  "I don't understand."

"I was uncomfortable around you."  Kirk looked away and felt himself 
flush from the admission.

"I sensed as much," Sarek said.  "I regret that they coerced you 
into helping me."

"I don't," Kirk said.  "I felt there's been so little I could do for 
you, here and.down there."

"Knowing you, James, you did whatever you could.  And, likely more 
than most would have thought of.  I hear I owe you my life, again it 
would seem."

Kirk felt his eyes tear and turned away.

"Have I offended you?  If so, I did not mean to."

"No!  I'm sorry."  Kirk said, angry at not keeping his composure.

"I do not understand this need to act Vulcan when one is not," Sarek 
offered.  "Some of my most cherished moments with my wife are those 
in which she is laughing."

This did not actually surprise Kirk; Sarek seemed to glow when she 
laughed.  He was surprised that Sarek had admitted that though.

"I was hoping you had brought me something to distract me from my 
immobility and sluggish wits."  Sarek had changed the subject for 
Kirk's comfort, he realized, and given him something else to focus 
on besides their mutual misery.  It seemed that Sarek hadn't lost 
his innate skills and sensitivity that took him so far in diplomacy.

Kirk stepped out and retrieved the 3-dimensional chess set, and 
Sarek did not look pleased.

"That is something I would have expected of my son," Sarek 
said.  "It is rather like bringing a trapeze to a man with a broken 
arm, is it not?"

Kirk smiled.  "I thought so, too.  So I improvised."  He stepped out 
and picked up a large armful of boxes that Sarek stared at 
curiously.  "I think the time is nigh to rebuild those synapses, 
sir."

"It is good to hear someone actually talk of my injuries in other 
than diagnostic terms," Sarek said with almost a smile.  He looked 
more relaxed now that Kirk had broached the subject.

"We can talk all you want of them, sir.  Or of your experiences."  
Kirk swallowed, but felt a dam of apprehension burst within him.  He 
wanted to help this man he had grown to care for.  And, dammit, he'd 
work past this discomfort that had been wedged between their infancy 
of a friendship.

Now Sarek looked away.  "I would like that, James, but with time, 
perhaps.  I do not want to lose the fragile connection we have 
between us."

Kirk had never felt so protective of him.  "You won't, Sarek.  
That's the last thing you need to worry about."

Sarek suddenly appeared to remember the coffee and donut and started 
to reach for the coffee.  "This may not be elegant, "he said.

Kirk reached out.  "Let me help."  Sarek allowed him to add his 
stable hand to Sarek's less-coordinated ones.

After finishing their coffee and donuts in more comfort than Kirk 
had imagined, he pulled some of the boxes open.

"First, we shall begin by rebuilding your eye-hand coordination."  
He pulled out several little cups and plastic discs on the small 
table next to the bed.  "Welcome to the time-honored challenge of 
Tidily-Winks!"

Sarek raised an eyebrow.

Kirk set out several small plastic disks of various sizes and little 
cups.  He attempted an example by pressing a larger disk against a 
smaller and it gained just enough momentum to barely slip the few 
inches across the table to fall to the floor.

They both stared at the floor momentarily.  Sarek raised the other 
eyebrow.  "I believe that would not be the example I would glean 
much from with respect to the goal you had in mind."

Kirk stared at Sarek, attempting to determine if he were being 
teased.

"Let me attempt this," Sarek said.  "I think I surmise your 
purpose."  He collected the little disks and cup from Kirk and 
transferred them to his bed tray.

Kirk stared at Sarek's precise placing and manipulation of the 
disks, as if it were some great experiment, then sighed loudly in 
impatience.

Sarek gave him a long, blank stare, then continued his slight 
adjustments, when finally he pressed the disk, it snapped and flew 
into Kirk's forehead with an audible slap.

Kirk held his hand to his head, but did not appear to be in pain.

Sarek pressed his lips together a moment.  "Forgive me," he 
said.  "That was not my intention."

Kirk laughed finally at how ridiculous they must look.  Sarek looked 
relieved and pleased at Kirk laughing.

"How about SpongeBall, instead?" Kirk asked.  He waved at the 
uncooperative game pieces.  "You can practice those on your own 
time."

But as he looked back at Sarek, he noticed his eyelids drooping, and 
Sarek fighting it.

Kirk put the small crate of SpongeBalls within Sarek's reach as his 
eyelids slid closed and fastened the hoop near the entrance to the 
private room - the furthest point away.  

As he started to leave, however, he heard Sarek.  "James?"

"You need your rest," Kirk said with a smile.

Sarek looked a bit dismayed.  "We have many more games..."

"I have a standing appointment with you at 2:30 a.m. every morning, 
but will stop by during the day and evening when I can."

Sarek looked content with this and his eyes slipped closed.

Kirk stepped out pleased with his reconnection with Sarek, but 
concerned at how the man withdrew from the discussion of what 
occurred on the planet. 


---ooOoo---


Kirk had spent the day on the bridge noticing Spock avoiding his 
gaze and wondering why.  He had dug into a personal area, but for a 
very good reason - a son should be there for his father, and his 
father needed him.  He had waited for Spock to approach him and 
decided that he would push Spock if his first officer tried to avoid 
the issue.

When the door buzzed and he said "come in", he was surprised, but 
pleasantly so, to find Spock standing inside his door.

"Good evening, Spock," Kirk said.

"And to you, sir."

Kirk eyed Spock warily.  "So formal.  Are we about to have a fight?"

"An argument, you mean," Spock corrected.  "On Vulcan, we would call 
it a discussion or debate and find merit in it."

"So, growing up, you had many discussions and debates with your 
father, and found merit in them?"  He smiled at Spock's discomfort.

"In a discussion or debate there is more to be said by one side 
than `Yes, Father', repeatedly."

That surprised Kirk.  He looked at Spock closely, wondering if he 
realized how much he had just given away.  "Jesus, Spock, it's been, 
what, well over twenty years now.  You're still so angry."

"It does not require anger to point out a discrepancy in your logic."

"But if you were still angry, hypothetically," he grinned in a 
patronizing way Spock could not have missed, "don't you think that 
would cloud your judgment of how you see your father and what he 
might need?  Especially from you?"

Spock stared at Kirk, then dropped his gaze.  "I have come to tell 
you that I will consider further what you said, and that perhaps 
there might be some truth in it."

Kirk's eyebrows rose at that.  He had not thought it would be this 
easy.  Perhaps the sympathy for his father had seeped in to soften 
his judgments and salve his anger.

"I have spent little time with him since I was seventeen.  We 
separated on unfortunate terms.  I may need to reevaluate my view of 
him."

Kirk smiled.  "That's all I ask.  It seems he's got plenty of time 
for you to get reacquainted."

Spock looked a little disconcerted at the thought of it.  Change 
could be good, but it could also be scary after so many years of 
possible misunderstanding.

"There is another concern I had," Kirk said.  "Just how well do you 
really know your mother?"

Spock's face softened.  "Specify."

Kirk asked Spock to sit while he poured himself another 
drink.  "Your mother mentioned that she would - let me quote her 
here - 'make him quit the Diplomatic Corps.'"

Spock's eyebrows rose.  "She is an emotional woman.  She will get 
past this upset to think clearly again.  It seems a cycle with 
humans."

 Kirk ignored the seeming insult to the human race.  Since he had 
included his own mother in the generalization, he likely didn't 
imply any criticism.  "There's much more to it."

Spock looked bothered by the direction of the conversation, but he 
looked expectant.

"I got the impression she could do it."

Spock stared, a haunted look took hold of him then slipped away as 
suddenly.  "There is little, if anything, my father would refuse my 
mother."

"I got the impression that your father would not need to agree."

Spock's head snapped up at that.  "My mother is a devoted wife."  
But the line felt stilted, as if there were more Spock would rather 
not consider.

"But could she?" Kirk asked.

"She is not that kind of woman," Spock said coldly.

"You deliberately misheard me, Spock.  I didn't ask if she `would', 
but if she `could'."  It appeared to Kirk that Spock was not aware 
of any wrongdoing of his mother with regard to Sarek's privacy or 
self-determination, but it appeared that he feared such, and this 
seemed to upset Spock's apple cart.  He had considered that he might 
not know his father well enough, but his mother he felt much closer 
to.  She had always been the one he could always believe in and 
trust.

Kirk decided it was time for the coup de grace.  "She has requested 
all evidentiary and documentation holos taken, both public and 
confidential.  She is not asking your father's permission."

"Mother would not do that," Spock said, but his voice was bit 
unsteady.

"She also requested a full psychological examination of your father, 
and full disclosure of the results."

This hit Spock hard; he closed his eyes momentarily.  He looked a 
little disoriented at the possibility.  "If this is so, then she has 
changed.  I have to believe she said this out of anger or upset."

Kirk softened his tone.  "I think she is desperate and terrified of 
losing your father.  I don't think she wants to hurt him, or even 
control him.  I don't think she ever really recovered from his 
emergency heart surgery and the gamble he took by attending the 
Babel conference."

Spock looked unsettled by the idea.  "I will talk to her.  I cannot 
believe that she would create a slave of him; she.respects.him too 
much."  Kirk wondered if Spock had originally intended to 
say `loves'.

Kirk added his final concern to the mix.  "I would be as concerned 
with how your father might reciprocate, should she follow through on 
this.  He cherishes her, but he is also a proud and independent man."

That brought a haunted look to Spock's eyes that he could not seem 
to dispel.

Continued in next section...


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Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: TOS: "The Farther They Fall", Sa/m, K, S, Mc, U, [NC-17+] 5/6
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Continued from previous section...


---ooOoo---


The next morning, Kirk stepped into Sarek's private room among an 
air of tension. Amanda appraised her husband coolly.  Sarek stared 
back at her, a bit of his fortitude seeming to have returned, at 
least a shadow of the usual glint in his eye.  McCoy stood, looking 
uncomfortable, caught in the middle of something.  They all watched 
Kirk step into the room - Sarek appeared pleased at his arrival, 
Amanda irritated; McCoy looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"I have the right to know your intentions," Sarek said, with a bit 
louder voice than he had had, but not much above a hoarse whisper.  
Kirk had to wonder if his voice was returning, or if he was just 
angry, by his stern face.

"Do you, my husband?  You recanted your rights to me regarding 
anything effecting your health and safety.  There were no 
conditions, as we agreed."

God, Kirk couldn't help but think, it was true.  But did he 
volunteer this after his heart operation to appease her, or did she 
take them at his last pon farr, which caused him to shudder.  By any 
standard, that was taking advantage of someone in the worst sense.   
Either way, he was shocked that Amanda had allowed it.

Sarek looked down at his hands.  An almost meek action it seemed to 
Kirk.  "I am not disputing that, my wife.  I only want to know what 
you will do."

Amanda glared at her husband.  "Are these your soldiers to protect 
you from your own wife?"

Sarek looked hurt at that.  "Aduna, please, you have not been 
yourself since."

"Since you withheld that you were at death's door?  Since you agreed 
to attend the Babel Conference, a stressful mission that would 
likely have killed you?  You gambled your life because you could not 
live without your precious career, and to be able to continue your 
sexual relationship with me."

Sarek flushed a little at that.

"I would have done anything to keep you safe, Sarek, sacrificed 
anything to keep you by my side."

"It does appear that way now, my wife."  His tone was cold.

"How dare you!"  She stepped close and Sarek actually flinched.

Kirk felt acutely uncomfortable at the very personal nature of the 
argument and the intimacies being disclosed and wanted to leave, but 
also felt anxious for Sarek.  "Amanda."

She stung Kirk with a piercing stare, "This is not your business!"  
She turned to McCoy, "Nor yours!  You should both leave, now!"

"NO!"  Sarek yelled his best, but only the emotion made it very 
far.  "Please, stay."  He looked at McCoy then Kirk.  "I need to air 
this out.  There is much more here."  Sarek shook until he calmed 
himself.

Kirk and McCoy held their ground.

Amanda's eyebrows rose at her husband's last comments.  "Okay, my so-
private husband, why don't we air this out."  Her tone edged into 
mockery.

"I made a mistake not telling you about the heart attacks," Sarek 
admitted.

Amanda snorted at that.  "My ever-forthcoming husband.  Let's turn 
our attention to this mission, shall we?"

Sarek frowned.  "That is not the issue, Aduna, and you know it."

"NOT THE ISSUE?" she screamed.

Kirk realized he stood in the doorway completely transfixed and 
stepped further in so the door swooshed closed so their voices would 
not carry into sickbay, and possibly the main corridor.

Sarek's eyes closed.  "Please, Aduna."

McCoy interceded, "Perhaps this would be better dealt with when your 
husband's more himself."

Amanda laughed, "The only difference between then and now is that he 
CAN"T YELL BACK!  That's just too bad, Sarek.  A little frustrating 
isn't it that I can out yell you this time.  Now you will just have 
to sit and listen."

"As long as you also listen, my wife," Sarek said calmly.

Amanda turned to Kirk and McCoy.  "My husband had said that this was 
simply a preliminary meeting of little substance. that the capital 
was secured long ago, I think he said." 

Kirk piped up, "We were misinformed."  He blanched at how those 
little words had become so much more.

"Am I to believe that, Captain?  Did you hear that straight from the 
Federation Council, or through my husband?"

Sarek's head shot up at that.  "Aduna, you cannot believe."

"Stop using that term of endearment!  I am not feeling very 
endearing toward you now!  You left me behind!  What do think I 
gleaned from that, husband?"  She was starting to sound hysterical 
and both Kirk and McCoy approached her, concerned how far she might 
go, but their concern came too late.  "And you come back beaten. 
molested. tortured.sodomized.raped and strangled to within an inch 
of your life!"  Her voice had risen to a scream by the end.

Both Kirk and McCoy froze at that, and turned toward Sarek.  It had 
sounded like she blamed him for his own injuries, as if he had 
gotten what he deserved, though they knew she couldn't mean that.  
Still after the trauma he had been through, much might not yet be 
clear to him.  He had closed his eyes and seemed to be trying to 
regain his control, but he was shaking.

Amanda seemed to realize what she had thrown at him.  Nothing had 
been discussed or dealt with yet in the psychological sense.  The 
words had not even been spoken, and Amanda had just laid it out for 
them plainly, even with her seeming blame of him attached to it.  He 
hadn't even known she had received the details as yet.  Sarek had 
had no chance to tell her anything.

She looked shocked at what she had just said, then looked to Sarek, 
stricken.  "Oh, God!  I didn't mean that.  Sarek!"

He didn't open his eyes, and Kirk had to wonder if they held unshed 
tears.  But his shaking continued.  "Leave me, all of you, please!"

"Sarek!"

"Leave me!" he tried to yell.  "I will submit to anything you like, 
Amanda.  I will not fight you anymore."  He turned from her.

"Sarek, please.  I love you."

"Your actions speak in contrast, my wife," Sarek said softly.

A tear streaked down Amanda's cheek.  Kirk and McCoy gently guided 
her out. 

Christine Chapel had heard the beginning of the fight before Kirk 
had let the door slip closed, and when they had filed out she 
couldn't help but notice Amanda crying and McCoy and Kirk looking 
upset, anxious, and drained.

They gave Amanda a sedative and put her in another room.

Kirk and McCoy sat down to a stiff drink each.

"Well, one good thing came of that," Kirk said, "it's all out on the 
table now."

McCoy didn't look so hopeful.  "You mean splattered all over the 
walls."

"Well, it wasn't graceful."

"That was a hell of a punch Sarek took," McCoy said.

"Amanda was angry and upset," Kirk said.  "Surely he'll realize 
that, after a time."

"This family is not the quickest to forgive, in case you haven't 
noticed."

Kirk sobered at that.  "You don't think Sarek would do anything 
drastic."

McCoy gave a long look at Kirk.  "I'd say this would be a trial to 
any marriage, and right on top of the Babel fiasco.  Sarek has got 
to be wondering when the 'for better' will return.  Vulcans treasure 
a peaceful environment.  I doubt he's had much peace for quite some 
time."

Christine Chapel couldn't keep her concern at bay after hearing the 
tip of the blow-out, the concerned discussion and then the silence 
that ensued afterwards from Sarek.  She stepped in to see if she 
could get him anything.  He was lying with his back to the door, and 
did not turn when she entered though he had to have heard her.

"Sir, can I get you anything, water, tea, something to eat?" she 
asked calmly, trying to exude a measure of peace to still the 
rippling waters from the intensity of the incident.

"Nothing, please.  And could you ask that I not be disturbed, 
indefinitely?"

Nurse Chapel felt saddened by his resigned tone that seemed drained 
of any hope.  She also felt concerned for his psychological state 
for the first time since he came aboard so wounded.  She had tried 
to think of anything to say that wouldn't be too personal, but could 
think of nothing, and slipped out of the room.

She informed McCoy of his request and her concerns.

"Well that's just great!" he said, irritated.  "How can we help him 
now?"

Kirk felt saddened.  The ridiculous game of Tidily-Winks seemed so 
long ago already, but he had an idea, and smiled.  "We can still 
pipe music in."

McCoy frowned at him.  "He has music."

"But not our sweet voice and soothing soul."

McCoy smiled and raised an eyebrow.  "Our secret weapon!"  He smiled 
at the possibility.


---ooOoo---


The lights were dimmed for the gamma shift and the Enterprise had 
quieted.  All had been prepared as Uhura crept into sickbay with the 
lyrette in a long, flowing traditional Swahili dress of vibrant 
colors.  She opened the channel to the private room Sarek rested in 
and started to play a soft, lyrical song of love and understanding.

He had been alone in the room for almost eight hours and McCoy and 
Kirk hoped that perhaps he'd had time to get some distance from the 
painful episode and might be amenable to a calmer and less-biased 
approach to solving his troubles.

Several songs into her attempt to coax Sarek out of his self-imposed 
isolation, the intercom chimed and then Sarek's scant voice reached 
her, "Nyota?"

Lieutenant Uhura smiled.  "Yes, Sarek, it's me."

"Are you alone?" he asked.

"Yes, Sarek."  She kept her voice soft and soothing.

There was a long pause.  Uhura could imagine his stubbornness, hurt, 
and loneliness wrestling control from each other.  She had heard 
about the entire blowout in detail as she was prepared by the others 
to make clear what she was up against in her attempt to calm and 
console him.  To her horror, she had seen much of the brutal attack 
on this so-reserved yet compassionate man.  She had to struggle to 
keep her sympathy contained; she wanted so to hug him tight and help 
him past all of this misery, but she couldn't risk alienating him.  
She was about the only one left to reach him now.

"Would you like some company?" Sarek asked.

"Very much, sir," she said.  "Would you like me to come in?"

"It would be easier than my attempt to come to you, I believe."  His 
tone had a slight undertone of teasing and she felt relief that he 
was comfortable enough with her that he had allowed that.

She slipped in and controlled her reaction to his injuries.  She had 
seen them briefly as they rushed him away from the jails, and again 
very briefly after he had been stabilized, but the bruising had not 
been so clear then, and somehow she had thought them less dramatic 
before.  Perhaps it had been her denial.

He looked away from her gaze.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Please, let us drop the formalities; it seems to make everything 
seem."  He stopped, as if he could not think of an appropriate word.

Uhura felt shaken; she had never known him to experience such a 
difficulty.  "Sarek, I am sorry I stared,"

"It is understandable.  I forget what I must look like."

Uhura smiled.  "Still handsome.  It is more what is under the 
physical damage that causes my concern."

He looked uncomfortable at this.  With her recently-discovered psi 
abilities, she felt his shields attempt to strengthen, but they were 
still too fragile from his injuries.  She attempted to keep her mind 
on things other than on her curiosity at what he was truly feeling 
and experiencing.  He was the one, in fact, that had discovered her 
high psi potential back after his heart operation, when they spent 
much time together playing and discussing music.

"I'm sorry, again.  Perhaps I should just keep to my music."

"No, I would not silence what you feel the need to say."  He looked 
as if he wanted to say more, but looked away instead.

"Words are not so easy sometimes," she said.  "Sometimes the impulse 
is to touch and hold someone to ease their pain."

"Yes, my wife." and here Sarek closed his eyes a moment and looked 
pained.  She felt the wave of telepathic pain he tried to hide reach 
out and nip at her, though she had turned it elsewhere.

Uhura reached for him, but he jerked from her.

"Forgive me, Nyota.  It is not you."

"Can I sit closer, Sarek?"

"With my voice as it is, that might be less problematic."

She pulled the chair against the side of the bed, but turned 
sideways so that he would not feel she was staring him in the face.

"Your wife loves you very much," she said, trying to sound casual 
and unplanned.  She felt another ripple of hurt tease her mind.  She 
would never forget what she'd been told Sarek had said, that 
Amanda's actions spoke in contrast.  It tore at her that he would 
feel that way.  It must make him feel so alone after more than forty 
years of marriage.

He blinked and his lips tightened, and then his eyes closed.  When 
he opened them, they seemed to glisten ever so slightly.  "This is 
difficult for me."  His voice was rougher now.  He cleared his 
throat, but Nyota realized it had been emotion.  He had probably 
never come so close to losing his faith in his wife and his marriage.

Nyota slipped her hand to his arm and touched it tentatively.  When 
he didn't pull away, she let it rest upon him, and he closed his 
eyes again.  "My controls are not very secure, Nyota, as you have 
likely already sensed."

Nyota had visited Sarek several times to play music with him while 
he recovered from his heart operation, and her immense acceptance 
and understanding of him had struck a cord.  She had felt like the 
mother he had lost too soon, the sister he had never developed the 
closeness to due to his need as eldest to take over the parental 
responsibilities.

She was a font of understanding and compassion that reached out to 
him without her even knowing it, to soothe his hurt and upset.  He 
had never felt such warmth before, except from his own wife.  It 
acted to lure his pain out for her to soothe.  And he had never felt 
so vulnerable, with his wife feeling almost like the enemy.

He had fought with his wife many times, but had always before felt 
that she had his best interests at heart and that they could find 
some common ground in the end.  This was the first time he had 
wondered at both.  He had never hurt so much since his own son had 
left him almost two decades back.

"No one need know if you slip with me, Sarek."  Now she could see 
that his eyes were glistening.

"Nothing has ever been as important to me as my wife," he said 
quietly.

"I know."

"But she does not seem to want what I.am.anymore," Sarek said his 
voice unsteady.

Uhura squeezed his arm.  "She loves what you are.  She just sees how 
that may be a fatal combination, that she may lose you someday."

"I do not want to hurt her."

"And she would strive in every way to protect you," Uhura 
said.  "Her focus made her lose sight of what she loves in you."

Sarek seemed to stare into the covers considering.

"If you could go back, Sarek, would you have told her of your heart 
attacks?"

Sarek stared at her and realized her point.  He blinked at this and 
did not look comfortable even with his own thoughts of it.  "I do 
not know," he admitted though it pained him.  He had hurt her very 
much by withholding that information, and yet he did not even know 
if he would do anything differently if he had the chance again.  She 
did not need to suffer with her knowledge of the earlier attacks, 
and it had turned out for the better without her protecting him.  
Perhaps what he had done was not so different from what Amanda was 
doing.

Uhura watched him considering what she had said.  He looked 
disturbed at his realization.  "Sarek, will you let me do one more 
thing, before I play for you."

He looked concerned, but trusting of her.  "If you would like."

Uhura smiled.  "I would very much like."

Sarek looked curious at this.

"Lay your head back and close your eyes.  Don't react and don't 
argue.  I know that will not be in your nature, but do it anyway."

Sarek looked amused but did as he was told.

Uhura softly touched the edges of his hair as she began to sing a 
lullaby.  His face started to relax.  She sang as she stroked his 
hair softly and watched as his exhaustion took hold and he finally 
slept.  She kissed his forehead, then softly her lips touched his as 
she caressed his cheek.  She left the lyrette in the chair so she 
would have to come back to visit him soon to pick it up and possibly 
play for him again, then slipped out. 


---ooOoo---


Spock stood apprehensively at the VIP suite, marshalling his resolve 
and control.  He could not lose the mother he knew; there had to be 
a way to bring her back to herself.

The door opened and Spock stepped in.  Amanda stood waiting for him 
but didn't look him in the eye.

"I've heard some disturbing news," Spock began.

Amanda stepped up quickly.  "Not about your father?"

"More about you, in regard to Father," he said.

She looked momentarily relieved, but nervous and immediately 
distanced as she turned away.

"You once said that nothing was more important than Father's life," 
he said.

"Yes, I said that," Amanda said, dully.

"Do you really believe that, now?  That Father would give up 
whatever was necessary to stay alive?"

She leveled her eyes at her son.  "Sometimes his honor and pride 
confuse his priorities."

Spock frowned, "I don't think you would have ever wanted to marry 
him, if that were not a part of his essence."

Amanda's mouth tightened, but her eyes teared.  "I just don't want 
to lose him."

"And neither would he want to lose you.  But do you think he would 
really take your privacy rights and choices?"

"I do not endanger myself, as he often does," she said, anger 
infusing her tone.

"You knew what he was," Spock said.  "Has he changed, or have you?"

"I am tired and scared.  I can't stop worrying.  I imagine the 
worst, always."  She started to cry.

She ran to Spock and held him tightly.  He rested his arms about her 
as she had done so many times when he was young and felt as 
inconsolable.

Spock began softly, "If you can't accept him as he is anymore, 
perhaps you should consider separating."

"No!"  Amanda began to sob.  "I cannot live without him!"

"I fear, on this present course that will happen."

Amanda stared at him.  "He wouldn't leave me.no."

"When you ask him to leave diplomacy, all he has ever done since you 
met him, he might wonder what else you will require.  To grant you 
this control over him, without limit, could sacrifice his pride, 
self-esteem, even his honor which he holds sacrosanct.  He could 
become a shadow of the man you married and cherished for most of 
your life."

"So, I will lose him either way - lose him physically or lose his 
soul, is that what you're saying?"  Her voice was small and fearful.

"I am saying that you need to find what has changed in yourself, and 
what might be done, if anything.  I am saying that to do what you 
are doing is not only so wrong I couldn't imagine it of you, but a 
guarantee that you will destroy exactly what you seek to protect."

Spock held his mother and rocked her, as she had done so often for 
him.  He hoped his parents could find their way back to one 
another.  For all of his anger at his father, whether deserved or 
not, he knew they'd had a strong and vibrant marriage and could 
again.  He knew that they loved one another very much.  He could see 
it in how they looked at each other and how they suffered each 
other's pain.

He would never admit that he saw that love and the vibrancy it 
created between his parents but realized, after his talks with Jim 
and much thought and meditation, that he needed that crutch of 
denial of the obvious between his parents to feel Vulcan; he had yet 
to see and to understand the varied grays of being Vulcan as his 
father did, to understand the essence of his Vulcan heritage.  He 
accepted that he need the blacks and whites of what a Vulcan does 
and does not do as a crutch - he was who he was and accepted that of 
himself.  He had many more years to develop his father's security 
and assurance; after all, he was still only an adolescent by Vulcan 
standards, even as he neared forty.  

---ooOoo---


It was very late when Uhura crept back into sickbay.  She had 
thought so much on what had happened, and found herself more and 
more angry with Amanda for leveling such a psychological assault on 
her own husband after what he had been through.  But that had pushed 
her to do what she needed to do.

She had always wondered why everyone assumed that Amanda was the 
more sensitive and compassionate of the two, but realized it was 
hard to see the real Sarek for the tremendous walls he erected for 
being Vulcan, from such an important family, so male, and so proud.  
She had to wonder with his position in his family, his government, 
and the Federation if he had ever been allowed to let his guard down 
and be the one to be taken care of, to need, even to show that he 
suffered, except of course when his Vulcan biology demanded it, and 
then it was against his will and he likely had little if any memory 
of it due to the psychological trauma of it.

Uhura stepped into his room and picked up the lytherette and started 
to play.  

Sarek came around to the soft music.  His eyes opened and a soft 
smile graced his lips.

"I am sorry if I am being presumptuous," she said.  "I can leave if 
you'd like."

"Please stay," he said.  "With you I feel almost.normal.again."

"Soon enough this will all be a bad memory," she said.

Sarek looked her in the eye, raised an eyebrow, and allowed a soft 
smile, "Not all of it, Nyota."

She smiled back.  "Nor for me, Sarek."

He looked perplexed.  "It is unfathomable to me how the wealth of 
men you must meet have left you unmarried?"

Uhura blushed at the tremendous compliment from a man renowned for 
his scarce and meager praise.  She did not look him in the 
eye.  "Sometimes the one we would choose is already married."

"Why do you turn from me, Nyota?"

She smiled.  "Admissions can be embarrassing."

"Wanting one that is already taken is a common enough occurrence," 
he said.

She smiled and met his eye, then laughed.  "You really don't know do 
you?"

He looked confused by this.  "Know what?"

"How many women would trade places with Amanda," her smile 
disappeared, "and, perhaps, treat you with more understanding."

Sarek's eyes darkened.  "You do not know enough to judge her thus."

"Where is she now?"

"I made it clear I wanted no visitors."

"And yet I am here."

"My wife and I have issues that must be dealt with."

"Perhaps we are not without issues, Sarek?"

Sarek looked up concerned.

"I sense your acceptance of me," she said.

"Your perception is clear," he said, still watching her, keeping his 
eyes only on her face, yet only now realizing that he was doing so, 
with surprise.

"I know you find me attractive," she said.

"I appreciate your aesthetics."  He relaxed, unsure why he had felt 
tense before.

"I am not talking of the purely appreciative," she said, staring at 
him now to glean any reaction.  He looked a little wary of her now.

"I do not know what you mean."  He sounded a bit affronted.

"Then you will relax and let me show you."

He eyed her.  "If that is what it will take to smooth this.
difficulty, proceed.  I value your company and.support. very much, 
Nyota."

She leaned over him.  "Close your eyes and cooperate, then."

He looked a little concerned.

She stared at him.  "Do this one thing for me."

His concern didn't waver but he closed his eyes.

She leaned close and tentatively pressed her lips to his.  She felt 
his alarm and confusion, but also his reticence to force her away 
after he had agreed, and allowed her.  She wove her fingers through 
his thick, wavy hair, imagining him naked above her, entering her.  
She could feel him caught up in her fantasy due to his fragile 
shields, and her touch.  He attempted to pull his mind inward, to 
fight the erotic feelings it instilled, but succumbing until they 
were both lost to it.

After a brief moment she deepened the kiss and forced her tongue 
into his mouth.  He moaned and reciprocated even as he reached to 
push her away.  She sensed his panic and concern, for her, for him, 
for his wife.  She finished the kiss as she felt his breathing 
quickening, but kept her hands cupping his face.  She could see him 
fighting for control.

His eyes opened and he stared at her.  "You have then realized my 
attraction is more than platonic," he said, sounding sad.

"Ambassador, it has always been clear to me.  I feel the same way."

"But I am married," he said, seeming confused.  "You do not think I 
would leave her for another, like this?  No matter what is to become 
of my marriage?"

Nyota smiled, but she did not seem altogether happy, nor sad.  "No."

Sarek frowned.

"But I think now you realize this problem is with your wife, not 
yourself.  I know that is difficult for you to face, that she could 
be less than she was and may need help getting back.  If you have 
the strength."

At this Nyota was shocked to see Sarek's eyes glimmering with unshed 
tears, "Forgive me," he said unsteadily, not meeting her eyes.  "I 
don't know how you see through so much.  You have made my course 
clearer."

Nyota hugged him and held him tight.  She felt him shake, and then 
breathed deeply, giving him a chance to regain his control and 
composure before she looked into his face again.

"I will always be in your debt, Nyota, for this insight."

"Sarek, this is nothing compared to what you have done for so many 
others."

Sarek's eyes glittered with humor.  "Is this the karma humans talk 
of?"

Nyota smiled and kissed him on the cheek.  "You are starting to 
catch on fast, Ambassador.  Before long you'll be back to tossing 
Tellarites."

Sarek blushed at that.  "That was him receiving his karma."

Nyota laughed as she stood to leave.  "You have another visitor."

Sarek looked suspicious at the timing of the arrival of this new 
visitor and got the distinct impression that he had been set up.

"And what would have happened if I had reciprocated further than I 
had, as I assume my wife is standing outside."  His eyes showed his 
amusement clearly.

 "I know you too well, Sarek."  Nyota laughed as she stepped out.


Continued in next section...


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Continued from previous section...


Amanda slipped through the door and stood tentatively in the 
doorway.  "My husband, may I come in?

"It would seem I am in no position to refuse you, Amanda." Feeling 
his anger flare again. "By my mobility or my rights."

There was no emotion in his tone, and Sarek had not referred to her 
as `his wife', which was not promising; he only called her by name 
when he was unhappy with her.  She had to consider the fact that he 
had already considered ending their marriage.  Her eyes stung at the 
possibility, and she had to catch her breath as her chest heaved.  
She had to believe he was still very angry and upset, and that he 
might, someday, come around to call back for her, instead of rushing 
into divorce.

"Do you wish me to leave?" she asked, her voice catching.  "I will 
go if that will make you more comfortable."

He noticed the tightness in her voice - she was afraid - for herself 
or for him he could not decide.  Interesting, he had never 
questioned her motives before.

"Come in then," he said blandly.  "We should clarify these last 
things."

`Last things.'  Amanda all but cringed at his resigned tone and this 
sense of finality.  She bit back tears and realized that might be 
what he really wanted, that he might be happier or at least more 
content that way, after what she had put him through.

She would want to die if he chose to continue without her, but 
likely she would get over that in the years to come to only miss him 
greatly the rest of her life.  She would never force him to stay 
married to her, though she could, and he might even stay married to 
her out of his strong sense of duty.  She would not be able to live 
like that, a burden upon him, so perhaps she should dispel his 
worries, give him the choice without concern for her.

She stepped over to the chair, uncomfortably close to her husband 
that she felt so distanced from suddenly.  She turned her head from 
him so that he would not see if she cried.  "I can have my things 
removed from the houses and embassies before your return, if that 
would be your wish."

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, his head jerk up at that.

"Then our marriage is done," he said.  

She could not read the tone, did not quite understand it as a 
question or a statement.  "I want you to be happy," she said, her 
voice a little thready for a moment.  "I do not wish to be your 
jailer."  Spock had said to show that Sarek had his choices back so 
that he knew she would no longer hold the recanting of his rights 
over him.

He nodded.  So she had given up on him finally, he decided, and felt 
his eyes sting at the loss of her.  The thought of her no longer 
wanting to be his wife tugged at his chest so that he felt it might 
burst.  His throat burned as it never had before.  He hurt so that 
he wished he was unconscious to be unaware of such pain.  The 
universe at once felt vast and empty to be navigated alone.  On 
Vulcan he would only think of her.  On Earth he would only think of 
her.  All of those places that they visited, he would only think of 
her.  He wondered how long it would take to feel more than bereft.

He did not want her to suffer more than she had.  Nor did he want 
her to ever worry again.  "I will take care of everything.   You can 
have whichever houses, or I will purchase one or more wherever you 
like.  I will support you very comfortably the rest of your life; it 
will be in my will should I predecease you."  His mind was flooded 
with grief as he tried to navigate these details of separation and 
divorce through his loss and confusion.

He had thought she would come back to him.  He had not thought it 
would come to this, and so suddenly.  He felt himself spinning, 
trying to steady himself but failing.  She was leaving him.  She 
would be gone from him soon.  The feel of her cool skin, her scent, 
her laughter that reminded him of wind chimes.  Her laughing blue 
eyes, even when she didn't laugh.  She had loved him so.  Had said 
her love was strong.  Then where had it gone?

He heard her suck in her breath.  He frowned, she was crying.  He 
reached for her chin and pulled her face to his.  "I have hurt you 
so much, my wife.  I only want you to be happy."

She finally looked at his face that she had been avoiding so he 
wouldn't see her tears.  But the warmth in his tone, his calling her 
his wife again, and then she saw his eyes glistening and filling at 
the sight of her pain, caused her to question her assumptions 
altogether.

"I will give you whatever you need, whatever you want," he said.  "I 
had come to that conclusion already, whether we stayed married, or 
not."  His voice was rough at that last and he closed his eyes and 
swallowed.  She felt a sudden revelation as she pieced together what 
had been said and the misery she saw her husband trying to hide from 
her.

"Sarek?"

"Yes, my wife," he said softly, as if he shouldn't be allowed now.

"Do you want a divorce?"

Sarek blinked rapidly.  A sign she knew as distress.  "I want you to 
stop hurting.  I want you to be.happy," he said.  Such an alien word 
for him.  He had never used it before now.  

Amanda stared at him.  Would he try to keep his pain from her as she 
had from him?  Would he try to allow her to decide whether she still 
wanted this marriage without his influence, just as she had?  Were 
they each trying to help the other by sacrificing themselves?

"Can I kiss my husband?" she asked.

He looked confused and vaguely concerned.

She knew he could not keep his true desires from her, but she also 
could not keep hers from him if they touched minds freely, but he 
might shield those thoughts from her, as well as his reaction to her 
kiss.  But a wife knows when her husband loves her by his kiss, and 
she was at a standstill as Sarek would not give her an answer.  
Perhaps to not influence her?  Or to not hurt her?  It would be too 
sad to end a forty-year marriage because each thought the other 
wanted it and so helped the other toward it.  She had seen it too 
often - a divorce based on assumptions and too often, pride.

"You are still my wife, and I would refuse you nothing anymore."

If he didn't love her any longer and she was forcing this intimate 
act upon him unwelcome, then so be it.  There was too much at 
stake.  She leaned forward and caught those beautiful lips in a kiss 
that could be her last with him and focused on his reactions.  He 
did not respond at first, perhaps hoping she'd break it off before 
he gave himself away.  She hoped that those were his motives that 
she might unravel.

But then she deepened the kiss and felt him respond at the same time 
he tried not to.  She felt it in the bond as he tried to collect up 
his reactions and fears regarding her and shuffle them away in his 
distraction by what he thought might be the last kiss of his 
beloved.  She sensed his fear that she would discern his true 
feelings, and that was all she needed.

She allowed her shields to lower to shed light on what was too much 
confusion and hurt mucking up their communication.  He moaned and 
released his shields as he thrust his tongue into her mouth and 
pulled her onto him.

*You still love me!* she thought.

*My feelings have never changed.*

An explosion of relief and joy suffused their minds.  She had her 
husband back.  He had his wife back.  Together they would find their 
way again and do whatever needed to be done to repair their bond and 
relationship.  He loved her and she him, and that was all that was 
needed.  They could find their way now.

She pulled from the kiss as she felt him getting aroused.  She 
didn't want to press him so early.  She loved him too much to hurt 
him that way.

"I wish I could make love to my wife," he said a bit sadly, "to show 
her how I feel."

"With time," she said.  "For the moment, I am happy to know we will 
stay together, and that wasn't our last kiss."

"Nor is this," he said as he kissed he deeply again.  *Let me feel 
your hands.*

Amanda put her hands to his face, conservatively, knowing how 
sensitive to touch he had become since the attack.

He took her hands from his face and placed them on his chest as he 
pulled the fabric closures apart and felt her hands slip in to comb 
through his chest hair.  *How I have missed those hands, Aduna.*

He moaned as they extended the kiss, slipping his hands into her 
hair .  *Never leave me.*

*Never by choice, Adun.*

They heard the door slip open and a footstep before they could pull 
their senses back from the meld deepened by the kiss.

"Excuse me," they heard as they started to break the kiss, and 
realized the captain had walked in on them.

They slipped from their deepened bond and became aware of the world 
again.

"Captain," she called to him sweetly, and he popped his head back 
in, noticing her refastening her husband's med tunic and Sarek 
watching his wife with the usual intensity that appeared almost 
lustful now that he looked more closely.  Funny, he had never 
thought of that before, likely because he was Vulcan.  He looked 
down at his shoes momentarily to give them some space.

With one last soft kiss, she left her husband.  "We have a date 
tomorrow, Captain.  I don't want to be greedy with my time with him."

Kirk smiled brightly at their obvious reconnection.  "No one would 
blame you," he said.

As she disappeared, he noticed the wistful expression on Sarek's 
face as he stared at her when she slipped out past Kirk.

Kirk smiled at Sarek's obvious distraction.

Then Sarek turned toward Kirk, an eyebrow rose.  "No donuts?"

Kirk smiled, stepped out and returned with their usual fare and 
began cutting up Sarek's into tiny pieces.  "You're looking 
improved."

"Much improved," Sarek said.  "Though the physical recovery is still 
far from complete."

Kirk smiled at Sarek's vague admission that his physical recovery 
was the lesser of his worries, leaving only the psychological.

"Do you want to talk?"  Kirk's tone darkened.  The implication was 
obvious that Kirk didn't need to say `about down there'.

"I had assumed we were to get to those other games."

Kirk watched Sarek; he hadn't reacted so strongly as before, and 
still seemed to look him in the eye. "We can talk, too, as we play."

"We can," Sarek agreed.

Kirk wasn't sure if Sarek had agreed or was merely admitting the 
physical possibility of speech.  And Kirk hadn't been specific about 
what they might talk about.  He was sure Sarek knew, but that didn't 
guarantee he would cooperate.

Kirk pulled out a checkerboard and checkers.

"Not as fanciful or creative as your usual," Sarek said.

"It is a precursor to build up to your playing chess with your son."

Sarek's eyebrows rose at that.  His eyes looked brighter.  "My son 
will be visiting?"

"He believes you two need to get reacquainted," Kirk said casually 
as he set out the pieces, as if he had nothing to do with Spock's 
interest or realization.

Sarek almost smiled at that.  "Not something I believe that Spock 
would perceive on his own."  He continued to look Kirk in the eye.

"In some things, he can be a little thick."

Sarek nodded.  "I should take issue with that as he is my son, but 
it is true.  In matters of personal relationships he is rather.
underdeveloped.  I am glad he has his friends here.  I feared his 
worsening isolation out in space."

Kirk looked up to see Sarek still watching him.

"Thank you again, Captain.  If my son and I could reconnect at a 
deeper level.`all would be right.'  I think that is your saying."

Kirk took his first move on the checkerboard.  "Would it?"  He 
pinned Sarek's eyes with his and didn't blink.

Sarek held his gaze for several long moments.  "It was a painful and 
debilitating experience.  The rebels have many reasons to hate.  I 
did not take it personally."

Kirk took a deep breath, hoping that Sarek would continue to be so 
open.  "It was a very personal attack."

"Yes," Sarek admitted.  "Were it not so, it would have been easier.  
But it helped, not being alone."

Kirk felt surprise.  "You knew I was there, from the beginning?"

"I sensed your concern and your fear for me," he said.  "I also 
sensed your guilt and your embarrassment for me."

Kirk blushed at that.

"The guilt and embarrassment were unnecessary.  From what I 
understand, you did all that you could.  It was only your recognized 
ingenuity that saved me, I believe.  Vulcans are perhaps less modest 
about the body; it is simply a vessel for so much more.  The mind is 
another matter altogether."

Sarek continued, not meeting Kirk's eyes now.  "I feared I would die 
in a way that would crush my wife."  He looked up at Kirk and Kirk 
swore his eyes misted before he looked away again.  "Fearing death 
for me is less than fearing leaving my wife.  I have significant 
difficulty imagining separating from her before we have both had 
time to come to terms with the possibility.  Perhaps I have been too 
casual about accepting missions.  I had some discomfort accepting 
this one, as did my wife, and I discounted both `intuitions' as she 
would call them."

"But hindsight."  Kirk started.

Sarek was nodding his head.  "I, and my wife, have dealt with too 
many missions not to realize when something is not right.  I should 
have listened to her.  I should have listened to my own 
discomforts.  I should have been less.arrogant."

Kirk smiled at that.  "You continually surprise me also, Sarek."

Sarek looked at him as if searching for something.  "I wish there 
were some way that I could.`put your mind at ease'.with regard to 
me.  I have surely realized my mortality, and also what is 
important.  I will endeavor to rectify what has ailed my marriage, 
and continue to seek out my son and.'repair those fences' even with 
my son's stubborn nature equal to mine and his unusual social 
development."

Kirk smiled at Sarek's admission of being quite stubborn, as well as 
the diplomatic way of referring to his son's sometimes abysmal 
social and interpersonal skills.

They continued to talk for hours, all but forgetting the 
checkerboard.  They mostly talked about Spock and his difficulties 
and accomplishments.

Spock arrived with the 3-dimensional chess set.  Kirk laughed at 
Sarek's earlier prediction.

Spock looked affronted.  "It is only fair that I reintroduce this 
pastime to my father as he was the one who first taught it to me."

"Logical in one aspect at least," Sarek said.

Kirk snorted at that.

Spock frowned and stared at his father.

"This will be more complex," Sarek said, "but I have had some 
preparation." 

Kirk realized Sarek was likely talking about reconnecting with 
Spock, since they had made so few moves on the checkerboard to 
qualify as preparation for three-dimensional chess.

"We might, however, start with two dimensions," Sarek offered.

Kirk left them to themselves, and sighed at the work cut out for 
them both.  He marveled at how such an awful experience could bring 
so many positive results.  Sarek was on the way to rectifying his 
difficulties with his wife, and was finally very motivated to turn 
to cementing his parental bond with his son.

Kirk had feared for the family that seemed to be exploding under its 
own stubbornness, pride, and disappointment, but which seemed to be 
coalescing more strongly due to the upheaval that made them all 
question themselves.  He earnestly believed that tomorrow would 
bring good fortune for all, where it really counted.


The End


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