Return to Valjiir Stories
Return to Valjiir Continnum
It turned out that Sulu knew way too much about the subject – “I’ve had occasion to study ancient Vulcan culture,” was his explanation – and from Jilla’s continued blushing, that she understood more than she cared to. In the nine months that Noel DelMonde had spent aboard the Drake, the engineer had told Sulu all about the disastrous mission that had taken Pelori MacEntyre’s life, as well as the existences of the Romulans who had been placed in the undercover team’s brains. Ve’el had died when Lieutenant MacEntyre did, but the three other Romulans had each, in their own way, vacated their ‘hosts’ before Intelligence could employ means to extract them. Ruth and Jilla had first-hand knowledge of Lahs’ difficult separation from Pavel, and Spock’s memory of the touching farewell between Tarvak and Joron stopped any lewd comments about the nature of their relationship, or of his and DelMonde’s.
“That they have chosen this time to return, when we are again in physical proximity with Wen, is far more than curious, and cannot, in my opinion, be coincidental,” Spock concluded.
“What does Del say?” Sulu asked.
“Only that he contains both Tarvak and Joron,” Spock responded. “The salish seems to have prevented Tarvak from again inhabiting me.”
“What do they want?” Jilla questioned. “Why have they returned?”
“Unknown, Jilla,” Spock returned. “Mr. DelMonde is presently discussing possibilities with Mr. Chekov.”
Sulu rose. “Then I think they need to be included in any further discussions,” he stated.
Ruth smiled up at him. He sounds just like Jim, she commented silently.
As they are both excellent Human captains, I am not surprised, Spock remarked in turn. “There may be some – difficulty – with that course,” he added aloud. “Mr. DelMonde is accompanied by his…” He paused, searching for a term.
“Significant other,” Ruth supplied, and turned to Jilla. “She’s Indiian, Jilla.”
The engineer took a sudden breath, her left hand clasping. Sulu winced.
“It’s taken a lot of effort for Tristan – Vale, my Chief of Communications – to get used to being around her, and for her to get used to being around him,” he said.
“And the discomfort a new association brings will not be conducive to determining an appropriate course of action,” Spock agreed.
“Go, speak with Mr. DelMonde and Mr. Chekov,” Jilla murmured. “I will remain here until I am needed.”
“And when you are, we can send Miss Wheal elsewhere,” Ruth concluded. Glances were exchanged and the suggestions agreed to. Sulu bent to give Jilla a brief, warm kiss, and Ruth said, “Don’t worry, Jilla, I’ll make sure no one mistakes him for Wen,” then she said, with Spock, Inappropriate.
Chekov was, as Del had expected, proving unremarkably obtuse. The Russian simply refused to grant that perhaps he was being ‘haunted,’ despite Calaya’s assurance that, yes, there was another personality buried within him. He’d argued tia with her, not-very-subtly questioning her sixth sense, observing that Ruth Valley – a keheil – hadn’t suggested such a thing – to which Daffy had pointed out that the Antari was pregnant and yes, she did so. He’d, of course, argued that with Gollub, asserting that she and not Ruth had offered that explanation. After a few hours of wrangling, Del had simply had enough.
Okay, boys, he whispered to the presences in his mind, call th’ li’l slave out.
Calaya gasped as Del’s body jerked, his eyes closing. When they opened again, it was obvious from both his expression and body-language that this was definitely NOT Noel DelMonde.
“Lahs, enough of this nonsense,” the voice of Tarvak of Merad snapped.
Daffy’s eyes went impossibly wide. Chekov started, blinking rapidly, his heart rate rising alarmingly.
“I…I…” he stammered, and his throat went dry. He fought the urge to fall to his knees, his thoughts too jumbled to make any sense.
“Do you not know your Master’s voice?” Tarvak demanded, then Del’s expression changed again and his posture relaxed.
“Oh, do let me remind him, Kah-lir,” said Joron of Bo’rah.
“Oy geveult!” Daffy breathed, and spat on deck, stomping on the wet spot left there.
“Forgive…” Chekov began, then snapped his mouth shut.
Joron made a disgusted face. “Where’s Lady Ve’el when we need her?” he asked sarcastically.
“That bitch is dead and gone, thank god,” Daffy returned.
Joron regarded her blandly. “I know that, Lady Daphne,” he said, then smiled lazily. “The non-gift must really adore you. Ve’el was much prettier.” Daffy bristled and his smile became more sensual. “But, of course, I’m prejudiced toward Romulan beauty. Never having seen a Human female…” His voice trailed off as he studied her. “No, I take it back. You’re every bit as attractive.”
Again Del seemed to shiver, and Tarvak said, “Joron, behave yourself.”
Another shift, another dazzling smile. “Just making the lady’s acquaintance, beloved.”
“Noel, stop it!” Calaya burst out. Her face was glowing brightly.
Joron turned to her. “It’s alright, little one. Del is fine. He’s trying to force Lahs to make an appearance.”
“Well, Lahs doesn’t like you much,” Daffy interjected. “so he’s not too likely to show up while you’re around.”
“She’s quite – spirited,” Joron commented, apparently to himself, and it became evident that he was talking to his ‘host’ when Del answered in his own voice, “You not know th’ half of it, son.”
“Still,” Tarvak rejoined with another shift, “the Lady has a point.” He turned back to Chekov. “Come now, Lahs, I won’t harm you. We need to know what has drawn you back – what has drawn us back to these bodies.”
“I’m not…” Chekov began, then stopped, seeming to struggle within himself. Daffy moved to him, taking his hands.
“Pavel, what’s going on?” she said softly. “Please, bubee, you can tell us…”
“You are not my mistress!” the Russian burst out, and then he did fall to his knees, his head bending to the floor. “Forgive me, Master!” he cried in a voice that both was and wasn’t his own.
Daffy backed away, unconsciously moving toward her only ally. Calaya reached for her hands, much as Daffy had done with Pavel.
“Forgiven,” Tarvak said, his voice strong but gentle. “Answer my question, now, Lahs.”
“I do not know, Master,” Lahs whispered. “I am drawn… drawn to… but I don’t know why!”
“Drawn to what, young one?”
“Wen,” Joron announced firmly as he again came to the fore. “He’s drawn to Wen.”
Tarvak’s eyebrow rose, Del’s body shuddering. He uttered one word in Romulan and Calaya again gasped as her tia comprehended its meaning: “Kah-en’gen’t.”
Daffy nearly screeched “COME!” at Spock’s signal, and when he and Ruth and Sulu entered the navigator’s cabin, the chemist raced over to them.
“Ruth, have that baby right now, you’ve got to stop this!”
“Stop what?” Ruth said, bewildered, and Del – or at least, who was wearing his body – turned to them.
“You must be Spock’s Bonded,” he said and gave a short bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tarvak of the House of Merad.” Then he stared at Spock. “You still look much as I did when I was younger, my Vulcan friend.”
Spock nodded. “Tarvak, this is my wife, Ruth ani Ramy. This is a friend of Commander Chekov’s, Captain Sulu.”
Sulu was blinking, clearly surprised, but he struck his chest with his right fist and said, “Warrior.”
Tarvak’s eyebrow rose. “You know our ways, Captain?”
“He, too, is a Warrior,” Spock answered for him.
Del’s face altered subtly and he smiled, all his attention fixed on Ruth. “It’s good to actually meet you, Lady,” he said. “I’m Joron, and we’ve – ah – communicated before.”
“I remember,” Ruth replied sourly.
Joron shifted his focus to Sulu. “By Telan, Tarvak, he does look like Wen.”
“That’s what you’ve gotta stop,” Daffy rejoined, somewhat breathlessly.
Spock moved past DelMonde/Joron, crouching down next to the kneeling Chekov. “Lahs?” he said quietly.
The Russian who clearly wasn’t glanced at him, his brown eyes going wide. “Master?” he whispered.
“No, I am not Tarvak,” Spock replied. “You are in the Federation, again within the body of Pavel Chekov.”
“But I am… I journeyed…” the Romulan slave stammered.
“And you have been called back here, by what agency and for what reason is as yet unknown,” the Vulcan told him.
“The non-gift is Warrior-Set,” Joron supplied, “though the gods only know how that happened.”
Calaya moved closer to him. “Noel?” she asked softly.
Again there was a shift in Del’s posture and expression, and he took a deep breath. “I here, cher,” he said. “I all right.”
“Jesus, Del, what the fuck…?” Sulu managed.
The engineer turned to him. “It a bit crowded in here, mon ami,” he said, then shrugged. “Sulu, this Calaya Wheal. Calaya, this Captain Sulu.”
“Enough with the introductions already!” Daffy shrieked. “DO something!”
Del shuddered. “There is nothing that can be done for one who is Warrior-Set,” Tarvak said apologetically.
“What the fuck is…?” Daffy shouted.
“It’s when a bond is interrupted before it’s completed,” Ruth said, moving to try to calm her friend. At Daffy’s stare, she shrugged. “I picked it up from Pavel the last time.”
“And the non-gift’s Bonded lives, here, in the Federation,” Tarvak explained. “It is that drive which calls Lahs, and no doubt there is some other connection which has brought Joron and I here as well.” He turned to Spock. “My friend, this dual inhabitation is difficult for Mr. DelMonde. Would you be willing..?”
“That is no longer possible, Tarvak,” Spock said, turning from Chekov’s trembling body. “The Bond which has been competed with Ruth is of a more stringent nature. Perhaps if you were not Bonded to another…”
“What of Captain Sulu?” Joron broke in. “He is gifted and …”
“I’m bonded, too,” Sulu said.
“But it’s not a…” the Romulan paused, clearly searching, and they realized it was Del’s memories. “…not a salish.” He grinned. “And if we observed the same restrictions as before…”
“Jilla won’t like that,” Sulu said to Spock, then turned to Daffy. “That’s not why you thought it was important for me to…”
“Hell no, I didn’t even know about him – them – “ she gestured to Del. “…those when we called you.”
“Then why…?”
“Because you know about this multiple personality shit,” was the chemist’s undaunted response. “I thought you might be able to…”
“But it is not a case of multiple personality, at least not in the Terran psychological sense,” Spock put in. “Lahs is another real being, not simply a manifestation of some trauma in Chekov’s life.”
Sulu’s face had gone stoically blank, and Ruth put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Spock, my suggestion?” Joron said impatiently.
“While not conceding the possibility,” the Vulcan replied, “is such a thing feasible, or even possible?”
Joron turned inward again. “It should be, with Tarvak and Del’s assistance,” he said after a moment.
“Wait a minute…” Sulu protested.
“And to what end would this be accomplished?” Spock interrupted, holding up a hand.
“Del’s comfort,” Joron replied.
“Not a good idea, Spock,” Ruth chimed in.
“Lady, you still care for him,” Joron said. “You don’t want us to put more stress on him, do you?”
“You could simply go home,” Calaya said.
“That is not our choice to make, Lady Calaya,” Del said as Tarvak. “Telan has a task for us, though we do not yet know what it is. He will not allow us to return to Paradise until it is completed.”
“But what task?” Spock mused. “What is it you are to do here?”
“Maybe he wants you to complete Lahs’ Bond?” Ruth suggested.
“For that, we would need much aid, Lady,” Tarvak replied, turning to her. “Lahs is a non-gift. I cannot even fathom how such a thing would be done. And we do not know Wen’s condition.”
“Well, we could find that out,” she responded. “He’s base-side right now.”
At that, Lahs looked up. His gaze fixed on Sulu, and he rose awkwardly, stumbling, clearly struggling.
“Wen?!” he gasped. “Wen!” And he threw himself into the startled captain’s arms.
“This is not Wen, Lahs,” Joron said with yet another shift of Del’s body language. “This is the Human Pavel Chekov thought of when…”
“That is not for others to hear, Joron,” Tarvak broke in quickly.
“I – I – “ Lahs stared at Sulu, then again dropped to his knees. “Forgive me, Master,” he choked out, clearly twice as miserable as he was before.
“Oy geveult,” Daffy sighed.
“Omein to that,” Ruth agreed.
After only a few more minutes of discussion, Spock informed Calaya that they required Jilla Majiir’s assistance, and asked her to retire to the ship’s nearest briefing room. After a brief private talk with DelMonde, the Indiian agreed, though she was clearly reluctant to leave Del’s side. When she was gone, Spock called his office and asked Jilla to join them.
“What can this other Indiian do that Lady Calaya couldn’t?” Tarvak wanted to know.
“Lieutenant Commander Chekov knows and trusts her,” Spock answered the Romulan. “She has had experience both with Lahs’ ghost before, and with the emotional difficulties of such a situation. Plus she has – Vulcan genetics that enable her to remain calm in the face of intense emotion.”
“Vulcan genetics?” Joron asked. “She’s a half-breed?”
Sulu and Ruth both bristled and the younger Romulan shrugged.
“If you’re gonna talk to Pavel,” Daffy put in pointedly, “it might help if it was Pavel.”
Spock nodded thoughtfully. “Tarvak, Joron, I would suggest you retreat. Mr. DelMonde can always call upon you should your aid be needed.”
Del’s body shuddered, then he brought his hand to his temple. “'Nough t’ make a man dizzy,” was his only comment.
The chime at the door sounded and Daffy called, “Come,” as Spock again knelt next to Lahs.
“Chekov,” he said clearly. “Lieutenant Commander.”
Chekov’s head came slowly up, his brown eyes veiled and troubled. “I… where…” He blinked. “Captain?” he said at last, and glanced around. He was blushing as he got quickly to his feet. “What has…?”
“Lahs,” Spock replied.
The Russian frowned. “I don’t remember…” he began.
“Pavel, Lahs is here,” Jilla said as she moved forward.
“But how…?” the navigator stammered and Del scowled at him.
“Oh, so from her you accept it wit’out so much as a…”
“Leave it, Del,” Ruth murmured. “Pav, sit down.” As he took a seat, she began to move one of the other chairs next to him. Sulu immediately intercepted her, smiling gallantly as he placed it next to Chekov for her. “I’m not an invalid, Roy,” she murmured, but she returned his smile.
“An’ he not th’ only gentleman here,” Del rejoined, moving a second chair for Jilla to the other side of the Russian.
“Thank you, Mr. DelMonde,” Jilla murmured.
“An’ there be at leas’ one lady in th’ room,” Del remarked with obvious reference to Ruth’s ungracious non-thanks. Both she and Daffy stuck out their tongues.
“Okay, Pavel,” Ruth began, settling herself comfortable in the chair. “First things first. Why don’t you start by telling us about the nightmares you’ve been having?”
“Does Noel have to be here?” the navigator muttered.
“Joron and Tarvak must be informed,” Spock answered. “They are a part of this as well.”
“I can go ‘way an’ let you tell them directly,” Del offered with a wide grin.
Chekov shuddered. “That would be worse,” he conceded.
“An’ I know all ‘bout it anyway,” the engineer reminded.
“It’s okay, bubee,” Daffy assured. “If he makes any nasty cracks, I’ll crack him.”
Chekov gave her a weak smile.
“Just talk to us,” Ruth coaxed.
Sulu and Del stood back, letting Spock have the fourth chair as Jilla and Ruth began the painstaking effort of getting the Russian to speak of clearly uncomfortable things. Daffy stood behind the navigator, her hands both comfort and possession on his shoulders. After a minute, Sulu turned to Del.
“So you know the Romulans wanted to put one of them into my brain?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Del responded. “When they actually active, it get harder t’ contain ‘em both.”
Sulu shivered. “Which one?”
The Cajun shrugged. “I more comfortable wit’ Jorry. But his empathy might be a li’l bitty bit easier fo’ you, seein’ as how…”
“Yeah,” Sulu interrupted, clearly cutting off that train of thought. “Is Tarvak really a lot like Spock?”
“Near ‘nough. An’ he leas’ not go flirtin’ wit’ Jilla.” Del gave a toothy grin.
“But would she respond to a more-Spock-like Romulan?” Sulu frowned.
Del stared at him. “You not seriously worried ‘bout that, son, non?”
“I didn’t want to mention it to anyone,” the captain murmured, “especially not Jilla, but it’s getting close to seven years since….”
Del snorted. “McCoy cure that, mon ami.”
“Yeah,” Sulu said again, but his tone was doubtful.
“’Sides, they Bonded t’ each other,” Del put in after a short pause. “They not gonna be interested in…”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Sulu replied, then flashed a grin at the engineer, who gave a wry leer back.
“So it not really matter none,” he commented.
“Seeing as how there’s no way in hell I’m gonna agree,” Sulu returned.
“Mon ami, I hurt,” Del exclaimed, putting his hand to his chest. “You not willin’ t’ help out a friend?”
“When it means hosting a horny Romulan or a Spock clone, no.”
Del chuckled. “Yeah, you p’robly right. ‘Sides all th’ other, it jus’ might start a li’l wind blowin’.” He gave the captain a significant sidelong glance and Sulu scowled.
“Him we don’t mention,” he said.
“Mais, oui, mon capitain,” the engineer agreed, then winced. “They not be likin’ this much, Sulu.”
Sulu grunted, but his eyes were concerned.
Chekov was very aware of the close scrutiny he was receiving, and it was making him more than uncomfortable. As it had two years earlier, it was very difficult for him to confront the images in his mind, much less relate them to others. The fact that those nearest him already knew – Ruth, Jilla and Daffy from their previous interaction, Spock with first-hand knowledge, or at least the memory of Tarvak’s first-hand knowledge – oddly wasn’t helping.
After several false starts, Ruth’s increasing irritation, and a sharp smack to the back of his head from Daffy, he finally started speaking.
“I – I dream of – of Lahs’ first interaction with Wen,” he said slowly. “Not in the slave pen at the restaurant,” he quickly clarified, “but of – the apartment, with Deron’s – hunger – driving him.”
“The shower,” Spock said with a short nod.
“Yes.” the Russian squirmed uncomfortably. “It isn’t precisely disturbing in and of itself…” He took a deep breath. “Surprisingly enough. What is disturbing is that I – or Lahs – or maybe both of us – keep thinking that…” He paused.
“The ‘someone else.’” Jilla’s soft voice was somehow very soothing.
Chekov flushed fiercely, his gaze flashing to Sulu with keen embarrassment. Ruth caught the gaze and looked over her shoulder at the captain.
“Because he looks like Wen?” she asked. “Or is it something more?”
“It better not be,” Daffy muttered and Chekov winced.
“I do not know,” he replied. “During Agent Hernandez’ examination, I was attempting to discern it, but…” He glanced at Spock. “She prevented me from exploring it, Captain.”
“Did she?” the Vulcan remarked, on top of Ruth’s “Interfering bitch.” “Do you have any idea why?”
“None whatsoever,” Chekov replied honestly. “At the time, I was completely detached from the memory, even though I – was aware of being both myself and Lahs.”
“You mean you were aroused as all fuck,” Gollub snarled.
Chekov shuddered. “Forgive me,” he whispered, not quite fully himself.
Ruth and Jilla exchanged glances. Before, this slipping into the Lahs persona had indicated major areas of conflict.
“Why do you ask forgiveness, Lahs?” Jilla said gently.
“I am not…” Chekov began, then stopped. “Did he just…?” he said with growing suspicion.
“Well, you said, ‘forgive me,’” Ruth put in. “That usually means Lahs.”
A muttered string of Russian epithets were mumbled under Chekov’s breath. “So it is as before,” he stated. “The ghost is again within me.”
“Ah, progress,” Daffy cut in.
Suddenly, Joron was striding forward. “How can a non-gift be Warrior-Set?” he demanded sharply, glaring at Chekov. “He’s clearly in desperate need of Wen, and I think that’s the most important question.”
Chekov glared back. “And how would you…” he began.
“Because I’m Dei’lrn, you foolish little beast,” the Romulan snapped.
“Joron, enough,” Tarvak said as Del’s body shuddered. “While it is the question of most importance, how can the non-gift give you any answer to it?” He turned to Spock. “Delve into his mind, my Vulcan brother,” he continued. “Find the thread that makes this abomination possible.”
“I wish he’d stop doing that,” Daffy murmured.
Jilla was staring at him, her face beginning to glow. “You feel as Lahs does,” she rasped. “Your tia is Romulan, but there is more…” She put a hand to her forehead and Ruth reached out protectively.
Sulu was immediately at her side. “What is it, hon?” he murmured.
“I can feel… there is a… a tie, a…”
“Well, of course, Lady,” Joron sniffed with another shift in Del’s body. “Tarvak and I are Bonded.”
“No, there is more…. a… potential… it is to Lahs, Warrior Joron, not…”
“WHAT?!” the Romulan barked stridently, and Del staggered.
“Ridiculous!” Tarvak burst out. “I am neither attracted to nor in any telepathic contact with…” His voice stopped as Del fell heavily to his knees. Despite her bulk, Ruth moved swiftly and gracefully to him.
“Del?” she whispered, then grimaced as Glorf began kicking frantically.
“Non, get away from me,” the engineer groaned. “Spock’s son not like it.”
Spock was at his side, assisting him to stand. “That is irrelevant, Mr. DelMonde. Clearly you cannot continue to allow both Tarvak and Joron to have free reign with your body.”
Del squinted at the Vulcan. “Well, since there not’ing can be done ‘bout it…”
“I’ll do it,” Sulu said suddenly.
“Sulu?” Jilla gasped.
“Before you came in, they suggested I take one of them,” he explained tersely.
“But, my love…!”
“I know, but I can’t let him suffer if there’s something I can do to…”
“Roy, that’s gonna amp up the xenoneurophene in your system, just like it did with him,” Ruth warned.
“Hey, help here!” Daffy called.
Chekov had gotten out of the chair and onto his knees and was moaning softly.
”Oy vey,” Ruth sighed.
Spock took a deep breath, clearly having made a decision. “Ruth, Jilla, help recover Mr. Chekov,” he said. “Mr. DelMonde, Captain Sulu, if you would come with me, please.”
Spock, what the hell… ?! Ruth began.
What I must, Dei’larr’ei, for Mr. DelMonde’s well-being and some answers to this chaos.
What about Jilla?
Explain it to her. She will understand.
SHIT! It’s a good thing I love you, husband!
A fact for which I never cease to be grateful, my wife.
“All right, what do I have to do?” Sulu said when he, Spock and DelMonde were back in Spock’s office.
“It too dangerous,” Del stated, though he was grimacing, and his face was pale. “What Ruth say ‘bout th’ xenoneurophene…”
“I’ll deal,” the captain answered grimly.
“It must be done, Mr. DelMonde,” Spock began, “or Telan’s purpose will never be accomplished…”
“Why you care ‘bout that fo’?” the engineer interrupted.
“…and Mr. Chekov may never regain his mental equilibrium and James Kirk may lose his Chief Engineer,” the Vulcan finished as if the other hadn’t spoken.
“Not to mention the ripple effect losing you and Pavel will have, not only on your ships, but on mine,” Sulu added. “I’m not letting either of you go down without first doing everything in my power to prevent it.”
Del’s body straightened. “Which of us is it to be Spock?” Tarvak asked.
“That must be your and Joron’s decision,” was the calm answer.
The Romulan gazed at Sulu. “Your mental patterns are more suited to Joron,” he said.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to scan them,” Sulu replied tersely.
“My apologies, Captain, it is simply the Romulan way to perform such minimal invasion when in an unfamiliar setting.” He gave a small gracious smile. “While Del’s psyche is more used to my Bonded, that may actually cause more problems in the long term.”
“How long a term are we discussing here?” came the wry question.
“As Spock stated, until Telan’s purpose is accomplished,” Tarvak returned. “Also, it is less likely that Lahs will continue to mistake you for Wen, since he is – not fondly disposed toward Joron.”
“But he will no doubt continue to see Mr. DelMonde and equate him with Joron,” Spock put in. “Also, I think there is a more serious danger to be considered. Joron is an openly sensual and flirtatious male, and Captain Sulu is very married.”
Tarvak frowned, then his eyebrows rose. “The Lady Jilla will kill for her rights,” he said with a note of surprise. “I had not been aware Indiians had that level of similarity with Romulans.”
Sulu glanced at Spock, who remained silent.
“Yet…” Tarvak continued with an obvious inward consideration. “There is the lady’s history with those who are of a more – reserved nature.” He paused. “But as I would never take unfair advantage, not only because it is not in my nature, but because I am faithful to Joron, that might cause only minimal disruption.”
“And there is the factor of how the inevitable xenoneurophene enhancement might – affect you, Sulu,” Spock rejoined, turning to him. “Tarvak’s greater control might be advantageous to you.”
“Though Joron will find it amusing to be taller than I,” Tarvak commented dryly.
Sulu was scowling. “I’d love to have a say in this,” he stated, “but as I don’t know anything about either of you except what Jilla gathered from talking with Lahs, and what Del’s told me…” He took a deep breath. “I’ll abide by your counsel, Tarvak, Spock.”
“I think it must be me, Spock,” Tarvak said.
The Vulcan nodded. “Very well. Does Joron concur?”
Again Del’s body shuddered and he had to place his hand on the desk to steady himself. “How can I possibly choose?” Joron asked with a grin. “We’re all so pretty…” He chuckled. “I bow to my beloved’s wishes, Spock.”
“So I ask again,” Sulu said. “What do I have to do?”
“I think…. a light meld between us, in which I will open the necessary pathways. Tarvak can then link with me, and follow that into your mind.”
“Your salish will allow that?” Tarvak asked with another shudder of Del’s body.
Spock’s eyebrow quirked. “Since there is no danger I will feel desire towards you, yes,” he replied.
Tarvak chuckled.
Sulu bit his lips, then nodded. He and Spock took seats, facing each other, and the Vulcan carefully placed his hand in the proper position on his fellow captain’s face.
“My mind to yours,” he began in a low murmur. “My thoughts to yours…”
The terror was enormous, but Spock’s strength and calm were reassuring. Sulu was more than reluctant to even go near the shojis, and Spock pointed out that the rush of xenoneurophene would likely open them anyway, and it was better if the Divine Wind was aware and, if not consenting, at least not obstructing.
With a deep, fortifying mental breath, Sulu agreed, and carefully slid the image of rice-paper doors open. The momentary disorientation was nearly overwhelming, and Spock calmly advised Kamikaze of the situation, pointing out that his soon-to-be Romulan guest was as formidable a control as were the shojis themselves. Kam snorted at that, but agreed to the coming event, if only out of curiosity.
Then the Romulan essence was flowing into him, anchoring itself within him. The expected rush of xenoneurophene was intoxicating, both Sulu and Kam eating it up like men starved. Tarvak gathered it around him, setting it firmly within his mental control, using its strength to allow him access to the ability to, as he had in Spock and in DelMonde, come to the fore at will. There was some jostling for supremacy between Sulu and Kam, and Tarvak examined the split with surprised interest, then acceded to Spock’s instruction to give it to Sulu. Kam called a parting shot of “Coward!” to Spock, then subsided – though he was clearly not as firmly locked away as he had been.
Sulu shuddered and opened his eyes as Spock eased away from the mental contact.
“How do you feel?” the Vulcan asked.
“A little dizzy,” Sulu said, “but it’s getting better.” He glanced up at Del, who was leaning back against the desk. “You, Del?”
“I better, mon ami,” the engineer replied. “I handle it now.” Then Sulu heard in his mind, Tarvak, can we still speak?
Of course, beloved, came the immediate answer, and Sulu shivered, not only from the bizarre feeling, but from the undeniable sense of both longing and devotion – and very powerful desire.
He heard Joron’s chuckle. They have known one another, my Kah-lir. We’ll have to guard against that.
But it is more than pleasant to be held within beings that do not hate one another, yes? Tarvak responded.
The smile on Del’s face was pure sensuality. More than pleasant, beloved.
“Okay, that enough,” Del said firmly. “Remember, the man Bonded.”
“The feel of it is quite – stimulating,” Tarvak said from out of Sulu’s very surprised features.
“We must return to Lieutenant Commander Chekov,” Spock reminded. “Are you – integrated enough, Tarvak?”
“I believe so,” was the reply. Sulu rose, a little awkwardly and Del grinned.
“You right, Tarvak,” he said. “Joron t'ink this funny as hell.”
The look in the no longer entirely Human captain’s eyes was both patient and superior. “But he is better versed in the Federation judo than Del,” he commented, “so I would not advise any undue provocation, my Dei’lrn.”
Del/Joron bowed. “I am ever at your service, my Kah-lir,” he returned, the teasing innuendo clear.
Tarvak snorted, and Spock sighed.
Ruth and Jilla knelt next to Chekov, trying to, as Spock had suggested, get the Russian back.
“It is all right, Lahs,” Jilla said quietly. “Tarvak and Joron will return shortly.”
“Yeah, so snap out of it and give me my Pasha back!” Daffy agreed. “And don’t give me that ‘you’re not my mistress’ shit.”
“Daf, not helping,” Ruth commented. “Come on, Lahs, let Pavel have his body back so we can fix this thing and send you back on your way.”
“Paradise was – beautiful…” came the hoarse whisper.
“And you wish to return, so we must do as your god bids,” Jilla answered.
“The gods do not trouble themselves with non-gifts,” Lahs began.
“Well, Telan clearly is now,” Ruth put in. “We don’t know what that means, but we have to find out. Okay?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Lahs mumbled, and his body shuddered, then Chekov glanced up. His face twisted. “Not again,” he muttered, and got awkwardly back to his feet.
When he was again seated, flanked by the Antari and the Indiian, Jilla said, “Can you discern the nature of Lahs’ connection to Tarvak?”
The navigator flushed. “He is – quite fond…” he began.
“Ooh, I’m so gonna smack him one!” Daffy seethed. “It’s not bad enough he has the hots for the little slave-boy…”
“I think, Daf, that that’s more than half because of…” Ruth started. Jilla gave her a swift negative glance. She shrugged and Daffy moaned.
“Oy fucking vey,” she snarled.
“Daphne, I do not desire Sulu in that way,” Chekov insisted.
“Your subconscious says otherwise,” was Ruth’s comment.
“Ruth, Daphne, whatever is within his unconscious is not something for which he can be blamed,” Jilla said sternly. “What one feels is never the issue. What is important is how one reacts to those emotions.”
“This from an Indiian?” Daffy snorted.
“No, this from a touch of Vulcan,” Ruth replied with a grin.
“And is precisely how Russians think,” Chekov put in, then winced as Daffy smacked the back of his head.
“And speaking of how one reacts to emotions…” Ruth said.
“You shut up,” the chemist retorted, giving Ruth a punch on the arm.
Jilla sighed, and turned to Chekov. “Pavel, what else can you tell us of Lahs’ emotions toward Tarvak?” she asked.
“He – thinks of him as kind and good and wise,” the Russian answered slowly. “He believes that his First Master will help him.”
“Is that it, Jilla?” Ruth said. “Is the tie because Lahs wants Tarvak’s help?”
Jilla frowned a little, concentrating her tia on the navigator. “He senses a – connection – to his mistress through him.” She glanced with both apology and warning at Daffy. “And he wants to understand the Bond between his masters in the hope that it will explain his own reactions to Wen.” She turned to Ruth. “Spock is correct. There is something within him that is not quite what the Romulans would call gifted, but yet not quite non-gifted.” She closed her eyes, then sighed. “That is all I can perceive.”
Ruth laid her hands on her stomach. “That’s Glorf’s assessment as well,” she said after a moment. “So question number one is...”
“When is a non-gift not a non-gift,” Daffy put in sourly.
“When he’s Warrior-Set,” Ruth replied, then shrugged. “And question number two becomes…”
“How did a state of pre-bonding occur within a non-gift?” Jilla stated softly.
“Well, from what he wakes up screaming, Wen’s the key to that,” Daffy stated.
“And Pavel’s ‘this is not the person I should be doing such things with’,” Ruth added.
“Which is Sulu,” the chemist frowned.
Chekov began a protest, and Ruth held up a hand. “It seems the obvious answer, Pav.”
“But I do NOT desire Sulu!” the Russian insisted.
Her features going a little hard, Jilla said, “You do.”
The look of panic on Chekov’s face was almost comical.
“It is something I have grown quite used to,” Jilla assured him.
“Yeah, everybody on the D’Artagnan wants him,” Daffy pointed out.
“Pav, it doesn’t have to be sexual,” Ruth soothed. “You care for him and Lahs interpreted that in the only way a slave could. These are Lahs’ memories.”
“Well…. that much is certainly true,” Chekov muttered. “I do care for him. As a friend,” he quickly added.
“And you’re such a horny little bastard…” Daffy began.
“It’s a normal Human thing,” Ruth said. “Yucky, but normal.”
“But such thoughts are not normal for me,” Chekov reiterated.
“It’s the combination of Lahs’ slave thoughts and your friendly affection and regard,” Ruth restated. “But that still doesn’t explain how…”
The door to the cabin opened and they all turned to it.