Cessan Solar stood on the crest of Mount Tulleah, feeling the hot air of Vulcan sweeping over her. It steadied her, gave her a feeling of comfort. The sky was a deep and dusky red, and the sands of the Gondi desert stretched out into infinity. Selar had come to Mount Tulleah any number of times in her youth, finding it a source of peace and contemplation. Now, when her world seemed to be spiraling out of control, she was (inwardly) pleased to discover that Tulleah still offered her that same, steadying feeling."
She heard feet trudging up behind her and she turned to see the person she knew she would. "Thank you for coming, Seleya."
Soleta grunted in response. "You couldn't have been at the bottom of the hill?" she asked.
"One does not find spiritual comfort at the bottom of Mount Tulleah."
"No, but one does not run out of breath down there, either." She shook her head. "I have forgotten how arid the air is. I've rarely been to Vulcan."
"You do not know what you have missed."
"Actually," and she indicated the vista before them, "I suppose I do."
Selar shook her head. "This is an excellent reproduction, I don't dispute that. But in my heart, I know it is only that."
"In your heart. What an in-Vulcan-like way to put it."
"To court grammatical disaster----I have been feeling rather un-Vulcan-like lately."
"Cessan," said Soleta, "you are in the early throes of Farr'Pon. If anything, you are bit too Vulcan-like.
Selar stared out at the arid Vulcan plains for a time, and then she said, "I need to know what to do. I need to know what to do with these---these...."
"Feelings?"
"Yes, that is the word. Thank you. Feelings. I cannot," and she put her fingers to her temple, "I cannot get Wren out of my mind. I do not know why. I do not know if the feelings are real or not, and it----it angers me. Angers me, and frightens me."
"Do you want to fight it, or do you want to give in to it?"
"Fight it," Selar said firmly. "I should be able to. I entered Farr'Pon two years ago. This is---this feeling I have now, I do not believe it to be genuine."
"Cessan..."
"I know what you said to me. I know your assessment. But I do not think that what I am feeling is really Farr'Pon. Perhaps it is a----a delayed reaction to the death of Chudor..."
"Delayed two years?" Soleta asked skeptically.
"Seleya---I profess to be an expert in many things. But emotions are not among them."
"Well," Soleta said thoughtfully. "I suppose it's possible. You were somewhat traumatized when you lost your husband. Maybe, deep down, you desired to have that kind of connection once again."
"I resolved to divest myself of it," Selar said firmly.
"That may very well be the trouble."
Selar stared out at the plains of Vulcan. "Wren says s/he feels a connection between us. Says I am interested in hir. Perhaps s/he is right. Or maybe my thoughts dwell on hir because s/he is the first individual who has ever shown that sort of interest in me. I do not know anymore. I do not know anything about anything."
"Admitting one's ignorance is the first step toward gaining knowledge."
"Thank you, Seleya. That still does not tell me what to do."
"I can't tell you that. No one can, except yourself."
Selar shook her head with as close an outward display of sadness as she ever came. "I have never felt any need to depend upon anyone except myself in my whole life. Maybe---that has been part of the difficulty. I have been alone for much of my life....but until now, I have felt---lonely."
Far off in the distance, a flock of birds sailed through the sky on leathery wings. "I hope I've been of some help," said Soleta."
"Some. I still do not know exactly what action I will take. But at least I feel as if I am moving in some kind of direction."
"That's all any of us can ask. I will be on the bridge if you need me."
Selar turned to her and said, "Thank you---my friend."
"You are most welcome."
Soleta turned and proceeded to climb down the mountain. Selar continued to look out over the Vulcan plains, but with half an ear she listened to Soleta's quiet litany of grunts, huff, and muttered annoyance over the inconvenience of clambering up and down mountains. Within a few minutes, however, Soleta was gone, and Selar was struck by the fact that she missed her already.
She had so intensely desired to be alone, and yet she had to admit that she might have been craving a most unnatural state. Maybe, even for Vulcans, loneliness wasn't a condition to which one should aspire. Perhaps there was more to life than isolating oneself, both intellectually and physically.
She found herself wishing that Vulcans truly were as many outsiders perceived them to be: emotionless. To have no emotions would be to simplify life tremendously. The problem was that Vulcans did indeed have emotions, but they had to be suppressed. Controlled. And maybe she had gone too far in her effort to control all aspects of her life.
It was not surprising, she mused. After all, in addition to being a Vulcan, she had chosen medicine as her vocation. She was a doctor, and there was no breed who had to stay more in control, both of situations and themselves, than doctors. And so she never had any opportunity, nor any inclination, to relax and be herself with anyone. She always, first and foremost, had to be steering a situation. She could never give herself over to the natural movement of the event. In all likelihood, her aborted and awful experience with Chudor had soured her on that notion forever. After all, she had done that very thing, there in the joining place with Chudor. She had let herself be carried along by the currents of their emotionality, and the two of them had paid a horrible price for it.
And she had sworn that day never to let down her guard again, with anyone, for anything, under any circumstance.
But now it was at last beginning to dawn on Selar that there was a world of difference between being emotionally repressed and emotionally crippled.
Her natural inclination, as a healer, was to help those who were crippled, in any way she could. Now, looking to her own needs, she found herself reminded of an admonition from the Earth bible which one of the teachers had once mentioned to her. A saying that was particularly appropriate at this time:
Physician, heal thyself.
"Computer, end program."
The plains of Vulcan vanished, to be replaced by the glowing yellow grids of the holodeck wall.
"Physician, heal thyself," she said, and then left the holodeck, although just for a moment she had the oddest feeling that she felt a faint wisp of a Vulcan wind on the nape of her neck.
"Centauri Prime dead ahead, sir," announced Greer. "Looks like they have some company."588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvvVB6rR5VF
That did indeed appear to be the case. There were several vessels already in orbit around Centauri Prime. But only one of them immediately seized Rush's attention as he rose from his chair. "Son of a bitch," murmured Rush.
Johansen looked up in surprise. "Problem, Captain?"
"That ship there---" and he walked over to the screen and actually tapped on it. "James, full magnification."
The ship promptly filled the whole screen. It was green and triangular in shape, with powerful warp engines mounted on the back.
Stepping away from her science station, Soleta observed, "That is a Rizajor ship, is it not, Captain?"
He nodded slowly. "It just goes to show how fast things change. When I lived there, we had no starbound ships. Our experiments with space travel were rudimentary at best. We weren't a starfaring race. Once we broke free from the Senderians, however, we began to take quantum leaps forward in our development. Sometimes I think it was the worst thing that ever happened to my people."
"The worst thing? Why?" asked Johansen.
He turned to face her. "Because I knew that we were getting help, and I never knew from where. It was a---rather sore point on the rare occasions when I came home. One of the main reasons I quit coming home, as a matter of fact. But that's not just any Rizajor ship," and he turned back to the screen. "I recognize the markings on her. That's my brother's ship."
"Sir," Soleta spoke up. "The ion trail we were pursuing----it ends here. Not only that, but I believe that that vessel was the source of it."
"Hail her, Mr. Kostanian."
"Actually, Captain, they're hailing us."
"I figured they would. Put them on screen."
A face appeared on the screen then, and Johansen was struck by the resemblance to Rush---and yet, by the differences as well. He looked like Nicholas, but with a more self-satisfied, even smug manner about him. He inclined his head slightly and said, "Hello----Nicholas." He overpronounced the name with tremendous exaggeration, as if it were unfamiliar to him. "That is how you wish to be called these days, is it not?"
"Where are my people, Daeq'b?" Rush demanded without preamble.
Daeq'b seemed amused by the lack of formality. " 'Your' people. I can see you making that reference to the rather large fellow in the Fleet uniform---but am I to understand that Lord Vito Turhi, former High Lord of the Centauri Republic----is also to be grouped in among 'your' people?"
"I don't want to shadow-dance with you, Daeq'b. Do you have them or don't you?"
"Have a care with your tone, little brother," Daeq'b said sharply. "If it weren't for me, 'your' people would be nothing but scattered atoms right now. Scraps for you to collect and keep in a jar. So I would have a bit more respect right now if I were you. Now," and he leaned back, looking utterly in control of the situation, "if you would like to come over here and discuss the matter of your missing crewman....I would be more than happy to extend an invitation to you."
"Accepted," replied Rush without hesitation. "Rush to transporter room."
"Transporter room, Dixon here."
"Dixon, ready the transporter room. I'll be down in a moment and you'll be beaming me over to the vessel that we're currently in communication with."
"Aye, sir."
"Captain, I'd recommend a security escort," Johansen said immediately.
"Security?" Overhearing this on the screen, Daeq'b actually seemed amused by it. "Are you overly concerned that I may harm you, Nicholas? Has our relationship come to that?"
Rush was silent for a moment, and then he said to Johansen, "No security team will be necessary."
"But...." Then she saw his expression and just said, "Aye, sir."
"I'll be there in a few minutes, Daeq'b."
"We'll be certain to have out the good silver," replied Daeq'b, and the screen faded out.
Before Johansen could say anything further, Rush turned quickly and said, "But before I'm going anywhere, we're going to find out what the hell is going on with our people. Soleta," and he turned to face her. "You said that the capital is called Centallus?"
"Yes sir. Last time I was there, in any event."
"Work with Kostanian and send out a message to them. I want to talk to whoever is in charge and find out if Thul and Turhi are down there. If necessary, send an away team. I want to know what's going on with them, and I want to know now."
For the moment, matters were quiet at the Space Federation embassy, Centauri Prime branch, Jakar Thul overseer and sergeant at arms.588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8g3Afdwmyg
The gas had cleared out and Thul was sitting quietly, letting his body's impressive healing abilities tend to the wounds that he'd sustained. The fact was that Thul was in more pain than he would've cared to admit, but the Malon had a stoicism so renowned that they made Vulcans look like laughing hyenas in comparison.
It'd been a while since Turhi had said anything as well. He sat on the far side of the cell from Thul, his legs drawn up, his arms around his knees. Finally, he spoke up: "Thul."
"What?" One could not have told from his reply that he was in any kind of physical discomfort.
"I...." He paused, and then went on, "I just---wished to say----thank you."
"Accept I thanks," replied Thul.
After which point, nothing more was said. It didn't seem necessary.
Then they heard footsteps from the direction of the cell door. Slowly Thul rose to his feet, a brief grunt being the only indication that he was beginning to wear out. But from outside they heard a voice say, "Do not concern yourselves. There'll be no battle. I'm alone. No guards are with me."
Thul noticed from the corner of his eye that something was wrong with Turhi. There was utter astonishment registering on his face. He looked at him questioningly, but it was as if Turhi had ceased noticing that there was anyone else in the "embassy."
"Do you recognize me, Vito?" the voice came once again from outside the cell.
"You're dead," Turhi said, as if speaking from very far away.
"I was reported dead. One should never confuse reports with reality."
"Yours friend of?" Thul asked.
Turhi looked at him with undisguised shock. "I had thought so, once upon a time." Then he called back, "Thruro? Grand Speaker Thruro?"
"Once Grand Speaker, yes. The tainted title given me by the oppressive royal family of Centauri Prime, back before I saw the error of my ways and aided the people of the Centauri Republic in throwing off the shackles of oppression."
"Save the rhetoric for the gullible," Turhi retorted. He was leaning against the wall, using it for support as he raised himself to standing. And as he spoke, his voice became increasingly louder and angrier. "Our trusted Grand Speaker Truro. You helped organize the---the rebellion? You helped oversee the overthrow of the Centauri Republic? You helped destroy my family?! We trusted you!"
"I was your flunky and you treated me with contempt. Don't endeavor to rewrite history now to suit your own purposes. I was always a second-class citizen to..."
And once more the ground beneath them shook.
This one was more violent than the previous occasions. Turhi stumbled back and fell onto Thul, who managed to catch him at just the right angle so that he didn't injure himself against Thul's rocky body. They couldn't see Thruro on the other side of the door, but Turhi took some bleak measure of satisfaction in the notion that Thruro was being flipped around helplessly. Turhi, unmovable, held on to Turhi and prevented him from rolling about more inside the cell.
And then something cracked.
They looked in astonishment as the cell floor shifted beneath them, and a large chunk of the ground actually cracked and thrust itself upward by about a foot. "I don't believe it," whispered Turhi. "What the devil is happening around here?"
Slowly the shuddering subsided. "Thruro," called Turhi. "Are you still with us?"
"Thank you for----" Thruro started to say, and then he coughed loudly. Dust was seeping in through the door; it was possible that a portion of the wall had crumbled outside, sending up waves of dust. "Thank you for your concern," he continued sarcastically. "I am here to inform you that your space vessel is here. An away team will be coming down to the People's Meeting Hall fairly shortly. You are invited to join us there. In order to do so, you will have to leave your 'embassy,' of course, but I guarantee you safe conduct."
"The 'People's Meeting Hall'?" inquired Turhi.
"What you used to call your throne room. All such artificial trappings are now in the possession of the good people of Centauri Prime."
"A trick could be easily this," Thul pointed out.
"Yes, your Commander Johansen said you might say that. She asked me to relay to you the following: Code Alpha Gamma Alpha. Does that hold any significance for you?"
Thul turned to Turhi and said, "No trick this. Have we regular security codes identification purposes for such situations just this like."
"Situations like this? That's impressively comprehensive planning."
"Fleet we be. Be prepared endeavor we."
"So tell me, Thruro, Once I am brought to this People's meeting place, what'll happen to me there?"
"You'll face your accusers," replied Thruro. "You'll face the people of Centauri Prime, and Centauri justice."
"Very well. I accept your terms."
In a low voice, Thul said, "Like this situation do not I. Do not know you what agreeing to are you. Setup could be this."
"I agree," said Turhi. "But I don't see much choice in the matter, do you? I mean, as charming as these facilities are, and as pleasant as your company might be, I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in this 'embassy.' Do you?"
There seemed to be nothing more to say. Thul walked slowly to the door and pulled on it slightly. It was not locked. He slid it open and, sure enough, there was only the Centauri named Thruro standing there. Turhi came up behind Thul and said slowly, "You know---I kept telling myself that if I encountered anyone from the happier days of my life, I would be overjoyed to see them. This just goes to prove that nothing ever works out as planned."588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTlWm2JTAgR
Rather than bothering to reply, Thruro made a sweeping gesture down the corridor. "This way," he said.588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC8FDJ9osmn
"I think," Turhi replied icily, "that I know the way to the throne room----oh, I'm sorry. The People's Meeting Hall."588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2RlOJeXP3U
"How lovely that must be for you."588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6jkrFy9SkR
And as they started down the corridor, ex-Grand Speaker Thruro said, "Lieutenant Thul...I apologize for your being dragged into all this. You're just an innocent bystander in our planetary politics, and we don't hold you liable for any actions you may have taken as a result of our---disagreements. I trust we understand one another."588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXb67iavWKa
Thul did not even look at him. He merely said, "Crush you like an egg I if out of my way stay do not you."588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt2HKLhFgw4
And so Thruro stayed out of his way.588Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCcg6ov83NX
