Return to Valjiir Stories
The questions were getting obnoxious and Ruth was more than tired of answering them. But since there was no immediately tactful way she could get away from the reporters, she plastered a pleasant smile on her face and begged silently for release.
"One more question, Miss Valley," a faceless voice called.
"Yes?" she forced herself to respond.
"It is well known that Antaris pride themselves on their hair. Why did you cut yours?"
"I didn't," Ruth returned, then decided she'd better explain. "I got caught in a Klingon barber shop." Which was no explanation but made her feel better.
"I beg your pardon?" the reporter asked.
She sighed. "It was the last mission the Enterprise was on. I was detained by the Klingons and during the detention, they cut my hair."
"Why did they do that, Miss Valley?"
"Souvenir. Pillow stuffing. I don't know. Go ask them."
"Excuse me, ladies, gentlemen," came a familiar, welcome voice. "There is business that my Science Officer must attend to."
The crowd parted for Captain Spock and Ruth gratefully took the exit he provided. "Is there really some business?" she asked discreetly.
"Of course. There are always things to interest a Science Officer. Nothing pressing, but always something of interest."
Ruth stifled laughter and linked her arm in Spock's as they walked across the base to Commodore Starn's home. "We're visiting the Commodore?" she asked.
"Yes. He was gracious enough to extend the hospitality of his home to us during this assignment. A place of refuge from curious eyes."
"That was good of him."
"Considering the disgraceful way I behaved when last we were here, it is more than good'."
Ruth looked up at him, smiling wistfully. "I love you, do you know that?"
"Yes. I marvel at it after the last year, but I do know it." He stopped walking and gently touched her face. "Do you know that I love you, my wife?"
She softly rubbed her cheek against his hand. "I think so, my husband."
"That will have to do for now." They continued toward the house in comfortable silence.
They were met at the door by T'Pir, who greeted them in her usual graceful fashion. Spock bowed his head slightly. "Lady, allow me to properly present she-who-is-my-wife, Keheil Ruth ani Ramy, and forgive my rudeness when first we met. Circumstances dictated my behavior, but do not excuse it."
T'Pir also inclined her head. "The matter is forgotten, Spock. It is fortunate that you are here. Lady Jilla arrived some time ago, seeking the services of the healer you require."
Spock's eyebrows rose. "Healer, T'Pir?" he asked.
"T'Pen," came the response. "She is highly qualified and has been informed of the nature of...”
"For what purpose?" Spock broke in.
T'Pir blinked. "The Lady Jilla referred to a severing, Spock." Her gaze flickered to Ruth. "If this is not a mutual wish..."
"No, Lady. It is mutual." Ruth glanced up at Spock to see his eyes close briefly. "I had simply hoped to rest and meditate before the severing."
"I have provided chambers for you and your lady wife."
"My thanks, T’Pir."
Ruth and Spock followed the Vulcan woman to the designated rooms and when the door was closed behind them, Ruth turned to face her husband. "Tell me I don't detect any reluctance to break this bond," she said calmly.
"No, my love, not reluctance to break the bond. I am surprised by Jilla's initiative. It is more sudden than I expected, but it is logical and necessary. I am reluctant only to cause you strain during the severing. You will have to shield yourself from the discomfort and you are not yet fully recovered."
"Do we have to go into that again?" Ruth asked, mildly exasperated.
"Of course not. I do not wish to cause you distress."
Ruth sighed but let it go. "Shall I leave you to your meditation?"
Spock reached out to gently caress her shoulder. "I would prefer to simply rest with you," he said. Ruth shuddered at the touch and Spock raised an eyebrow in question.
"How can you do that?" she asked.
He carefully fingered the ends of her hair. "I have grown used to the discomfort. If it still causes you pain, I will...."
"No, it's just that... I don't want to hurt you."
"The shock is no longer so great."
"You really do love me, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
".... by the attractive young First Officer."
Daffy Gollub turned away from the screen and addressed the other crewmembers who were gathered with her in the rec room. "Is that disgusting or is it my imagination?"
"That," Pavel Chekov replied, "is disgusting. Of course," he added, "he is handsome."
"Since when have you noticed, bubelah?” Daffy asked with a wicked grin. “And what's the big deal over Valley's hair? You ever try taking a shower after she got done washing it? I've been attacked by stray strands of that stuff. It's alive," she confided stridently. "It probably tried to strangle whoever cut it off."
"What about the contributions of the rest of us lowly peons?" Ramon Ordona wondered.
"They're getting to that," Daffy answered. "Or hasn't anyone called to ask you for an interview?"
"Dafshka," Pavel said, pretending to be shocked, "you are a star, too?"
"It would seem so." She showed most of her teeth. "It should be entertaining."
"And we have a ship's tour to conduct," Geoff Redford told them. "Mr. Scott seems to be looking forward to it."
"Are you?" Daffy asked.
"Does that matter?" Geoff replied.
"Be quiet, I want to watch this,” Pavel said.
They all concentrated their somewhat cynical attention on the screen once more. A blue-haired woman, who looked to be Terran otherwise, was speaking.
"...supporting his Captain with steadfast loyalty. Exemplary for an Executive Officer on one of Starfleet's finest ships. As exemplary as the Captain... and the ship herself. Not much has been said of the backbone of the Enterprise; the four hundred beings who comprise the bulk of the crew... and, incidentally, do most of the work on board. Nothing that great ship has done could have been accomplished without the loyalty and efficiency of these too-often-ignored members of Starfleet. So while we sing the praises of the senior officers of the Enterprise, let us not forget to give a chorus to her steadfast crew."
The sounds of mock-illness reverberated throughout the rec room, but they were all smiling. "They really think of us that way?" Pavel asked.
"Isn't it about time someone did?" Ramon countered.
"Maybe in Sciences," Geoff put in. "In Engineering, Scotty always lets us know we're appreciated."
"Yeah, well, our chief is too busy with Captain Boss to think of us poor, benighted worker bees," Daffy sighed dramatically. "And shut up, all of you. My interview is next."
"We talked to one such crewmember, Lieutenant Daphne Gollub. Miss Gollub is a chemist on board, a member of the Science Department." The camera view enlarged to include Daffy's smiling visage. It was a smile that the other people in the rec room recognized and there were anticipatory groans.
"Miss Gollub, I suppose the most important question on our viewers’ minds at the moment is, what is it like being a party to such a monumental and heroic deed?"
"That all depends on what deed you're talking about."
"The rescue of Captain Kirk, of course."
The image of Daffy on the screen waved her hand dismissingly. "Oh, that. It was nothing. A trifle, really. Par for the course. Do it all the time. No sweat. Piece of cake."
The list of clichés was interrupted. "Of course, Lieutenant. But for our viewers, can you describe how you felt accomplishing what the Federation at large considers a miracle?"
On-screen Daffy chuckled, a decidedly sinister sound. "Well, working with a keheil, that's a Moon Priestess to all you civilians, one gets used to miracles. We were just doing our jobs; following orders; keeping stiff upper lips, noses to the grindstone, toting that barge and lifting...."
"Do you mean to tell us that the average crewmember doesn't consider what you've done in any way remarkable?"
"Nope."
"But surely..."
"Listen, I don't know what all this hero sh— business is about. We AREN'T heroes. What we are is a damn good — excuse me, very good ship doing a very good job. We haven't done anything any other ship in the Fleet wouldn't've done. Just because it's Captain Wonderful and his sidekick SuperVulcan everyone thinks it's some kind of fucking... I'm sorry, lady, I'm a sailor. That's how sailors talk! Anyway, everyone thinks it's a miracle. It's just a job. For some of us a career, maybe... not me, not on a bet... but there's nothing heroic about it. Crazy, sure, but not..." Daffy's on-screen tirade was interrupted by a quiet beeping. On screen, she pulled out a communicator and the Captain's voice said, "Miss Gollub, if you would report back to the ship immediately," and Daffy said, "Sure, Captain, Sugar," and one very flustered reporter tried to make a closing statement while the rec room convulsed with laughter.
Finally Pavel managed, "What did the Captain want?"
Daffy smiled smugly. "He said, and I quote, 'Thank you, Miss Gollub’."
"I got me some headache."
Jeremy glanced up from the tape he was viewing at DelMonde's grunt.
"You got something for it?"
"Aspirin not what I need."
"Now did I say anything about aspirin? Would I say anything about aspirin?"
Del grimaced in lieu of a smile. "Not you, Dr. Paget."
"So have you?"
"No. I get rid o’ my supply. Ruth not..." His voice stopped, then continued more tightly. "I not have a chance to get more."
"I just happen to be able to write you a prescription."
"You do that, mon ami."
"Providing you talk about it."
"Anyone ever ‘cuse you o’ bein’ a junkie dealer?"
"All the time, N.C. Shall we have a touch of talk and sapphire?"
"Bradigan pay fo' this."
"So will I, I'm sure. Come on, Cajun. You need this."
Del swallowed hard. "It hurt, Cobra. It really hurt."
Jeremy crossed the room to sit beside DelMonde on the bed. "I know, my man. I know. It'll do you good."
Del closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "She love me, I know. But she love him more; not jus’ more than she love me but more than she could ever love me. I know she not use me — no more than I use her — but he did. Both o’ us. An’ she jus’ brush it off. His right as captain, she say. But it not his right, not when it concern us. US! Use me, use her, but damn him t’ every hell, not US!!"
"And the leeches keep asking the same questions, don't they?" Jeremy said quietly.
"What I answer them, Cobra? What I say? I not tell them th' truth... I got a duty t' her, t' our privacy. I got responsibility t' Fleet. But I got no other answer an' they not leave me alone!"
"I'm here to see to that, Cajun. Don't tell them anything. Just tell me."
"I love her!" Del cried, suddenly, violently. "I love her an' I never have her an' she happy — oh sweet Jesus! — she happy wit’ someone else!" The tears came in a flood and Jeremy silently held him and let the emotion come and cleanse the headaches away. And consciously avoided letting Del's words sink too deeply into his own being.
"How long is this gonna take?" Jilla glanced up at Sulu's voice. T'Pen answered without looking up.
"Commander, it is a delicate process. This bond has been in existence over four Standard years and it is of a kind we have not seen before. The intertwining of minds is complex and in this case not clearly defined. You must be patient if I am to accomplish anything."
Sulu sighed at the healer's calm tone. This was his wife she was talking about, not some ill-defined Vulcan concept! He paced once across the room nervously, then opened his mouth to ask another question.
"Commander, much could be gained if you would allow the Lady Jilla to concentrate on the disciplines necessary for the severing."
Sulu shut his mouth, considering offering to wait elsewhere. But the door hissed softly open and Spock entered the small room. He was in a dark robe and suddenly Sulu didn't feel like leaving.
"I am prepared, Healer," he announced solemnly.
"The Lady Jilla is not," T'Pen replied with an obvious glance at Sulu.
"Has she informed you that she can often be calmed by Commander Sulu's touch?"
One elegant eyebrow rose. "Indeed, Spock? Is the Human a telepath?"
"No, Healer. But he is empathic and, I assure you, he has that skill where Lady Jilla is concerned."
T'Pen glanced with new tolerance at Sulu. "If you would aid us, then, Commander?"
Suddenly uncertain, Sulu stepped past Spock to stand at Jilla's side. He softly caressed the side of her face, projecting all the warmth and reassurance he could. "It'll all be over in a little while, hon," he murmured, then added to T'Pen, "won't it?"
"It is a complicated process, Commander," was all the Vulcan woman said. There was silence for several minutes, Sulu feeling the tension and fear drain out of Jilla's being. Finally, she looked up, her grey eyes serene.
"I am prepared," she said. The Healer nodded briskly.
"We begin," she said. "Spock, kneel before your mate."
Sulu bristled as Spock obeyed the Healer. She's not his mate.
"I must caution you, Commander. Do not attempt to distract Lady Jilla's attention, or to communicate with her in any way. I must have complete control if I am to safely sever this bond."
Sulu nodded at T'Pen, then sighed and began, impatiently, to wait.
The process was simply begun. T'Pen established a link with Jilla and with Spock, and oversaw the formation of a link between them. Once that was accomplished, she studied the braiding of their minds.
As she feared, it was far more complex than a normal Vulcan/Vulcan bond would be; even more complex than she would have expected given a Vulcan/non-Vulcan bond. In part, of course, it was due to Spock's hybrid make-up; and in part to Jilla’s altered genetics. But it was even more complicated than that could account for. Carefully, gently, she traced the weaving, not yet touching or untangling; merely mapping. And found a thread that followed the braid-that-was-Spock twist for twist.
Spock, what is this?
She-who-is-my-wife.
There is yet another bond here?
She is Keheil. Our telepathies are in harmony.
If there is no separate braiding, it poses no extra difficulty.
To my knowledge there is not.
She is shielded?
Yes, Healer.
I continue.
More intertwining, more blending. T'Pen was surprised. She had not expected a bond of this type to be so solid a thing. She had been given to believe that it had not been deliberately strengthened. If such was indeed the case, there was much here that was unique. More and more deeply the weaving went and T'Pen followed, drawing her own shields tightly around her being so that there would be no blending. Still tracing the bond, she came across a strange shadow; almost an echo of some long-discarded link. Was that the source of this bond's complexity? Was there some previous melding that had not been properly severed? She carefully drew Jilla's attention to it.
Explain.
He-who-was-my-husband. The answer was faint and unsure.
Specify.
Selar Seliklrn Vtkrghdantm.
There is no record of such a bond.
There was no bond. Mnorindar, Indiian custom.
Yet, this shadow…
Turbulence. Discomfort, shame, grief. I am damned. He watches.
Alien concept. It has no meaning here, Spock’s mind-voice supplied.
T'Pen acknowledged and continued. Deeper, more braiding. The severing would be a lengthy and difficult one. There was risk of death. Then she came upon yet another braid; tenuous and faint, but exerting a pressure that was uncomfortable even with all T'Pen's shielding. Unquestionably the reason for all the repercussions within the bond. But how could such a thing exist when neither Spock nor Jilla seemed aware of it? And who would intrude on a bonded couple in this manner?
Quickly T'Pen reoriented herself. This was not a 'bonded couple'. The joining had come about by accident, a condition neither had sought nor wanted. The intruder was trespassing on nothing. She put her instinctive indignation aside and examined this third braid. Matched to Jilla, yet not as exactly as the Keheil was matched to Spock. Certain of the braids intersected Spock's on their own, and certain of them shied away where Jilla was most firmly entwined. She attempted a gentle contact and received not even the slightest hint of an answer. Whoever the braid belonged to was mind-blind.
The Human Commander's touch calms her and he is no telepath.
A Human?! When she is not a telepath? How...?
Jilla, are you bonded to another?
Surprise. Bonded to another? Healer, I do not understand the question.
Have you experienced The Time with another besides your mate?
NO!
There is a bond here, Jilla. It is independent of Spock. There must be an explanation.
Sulu. Spock's voice.
I have not... Jilla.
When we burned...McCoy's 'cure'... your illogical passion for his presence.
It was not a cure. The drug simply interacted with my emotional make-up.
Details flowed to T'Pen's mind: the violence inside Spock's cabin; the Keheil's distraction; the Human cradling Jilla as the drug was pumped into her system; her awakening and...
It was not a temporary alteration of your sensitivity. Spock's amazed tone verbalized the realization that echoed in the link. It caused the bonding process, not with a mind attuned to yours, but with the first tia you encountered.
Sulu!? I have been bonded to him all these years?
So it would seem, rilain.
"Sulu!"
It was a verbal cry and T'Pen fought to regain control over the link. She felt Sulu's response and spoke harshly; "I said do not attempt to communicate!"
"But she..."
"Be still!"
Healer, I must tell him! Such joy will...
It will be more joyful when he knows he is alone in his claim. Be still, child. The rest of the bond was quickly examined and T'Pen braced herself to begin the unraveling.
Since Spock had to go through this alone — and why is it always 'there is no place for you at these proceedings?' — Ruth asked for, and received T'Pir's permission to use the garden of her home for a private haven from the media. And hopefully from her thoughts.
She took her guitar and settled with it under a friendly-looking tree and began to try to lose herself, as she had so many times before, in her music. She could feel the severing when it began, but her shielding was adequate for keeping it out. Her fingers stopped their automatic movement across the guitar strings as she tried to concentrate on keeping separate from the telepathy that she should not try to participate in. She looked up at the sky, trying to appreciate the warmth pouring on her from the recently treacherous sun. I can handle this, she swore to herself. Spock needs it. I love him. And I can handle it. I just hope it doesn't go on too long.
At the touch of the female, the animal inside Jilla screamed a warning. It was soothed and gentled. I have come to heal, T'Pen said. The animal screamed possession. Jilla, you must exert some control.
There is Sulu, Jilla repeated to herself. Spock is Ruth's, and there is Sulu.
The beast was leashed and Jilla signaled her readiness to continue. She flinched at the renewed touch, but forced herself to ignore the discomfort. There was an echo of pride from Spock and it caused pleasure and fear.
You must not interact with her. T'Pen.
Apologies, Healer. Spock.
Patiently Jilla endured T’Pen's unbraiding, keeping the rising fear firmly in check. Rationality told her all would be well, yet the drives of The Time were strong... and this female is attempting to take your mate! No, NO!!
Control, Jilla.
Once more the panic was forced down, but not as far as before and Jilla's heart raced. She began to feel the unweaving itself, not simply another's touch. As each twist was undone, ice seared through her, cold, lonely fear. Don't leave me, don't leave me!
Rilain!
Control.
Control. Jilla took a deep breath, trying to close her mind to the fear.
I must have free access, Jilla.
Then what am I to do! Jilla cried wordlessly.
There is warmth at your side. Feel it. The Human.
Jilla concentrated. Sulu's tia was near and it did warm her. Sulu is here, she told herself again. Leave Spock to Ruth, Sulu is here.
But the calm lasted only minutes. T'Pen reached a particularly complicated braid and Jilla could not stop the fierce reaction. NO! He is mine! MINE!! She felt Spock's answering roar of possessiveness, then T’Pen’s stern: Kroykah!
Jilla froze, felt Spock give the same obedience. But his fire burned and called to her around the cold wall that T'Pen had erected. The healer spoke to him and Jilla was excluded. It angered her and she ripped at the wall, helpless before the strong telepathy. Let me in!! she screamed furiously.
The Human, was T'Pen's answer.
I do not want....! An image of a beautiful Asian face floated to her and Jilla was filled with a savage hunger. It was my right, he is mine! she told the mocking black eyes, and was calmed by the feel of assurance that answered her.
You do want him. He is with you. We continue.
Shaking, Jilla agreed. She wanted to talk to Spock, to hear his calm logic reiterating the necessity of this severing. Then realized that all she wanted was a way to hold onto him. It had been she herself who had insisted on this severing, to protect her too-receptive mind and her commitment to Sulu. Yet all within her cried in terror. If her mate was taken from her, she would die. But T'Pen said Sulu was also bonded to her. Should not that counter this irrational fear? I have a mate! she told herself fiercely. I will not die!
But he is Human. How can a Human complete The Time?
The thought sent new panic into her and she again began to struggle against T'Pen's careful touch.
Spock meditated on nothing, allowing T'Pen to touch as she would. His mind needed no further convincing. This bond must be broken. It was too easy, too natural and instinctive a thing to be allowed to continue when both he and Jilla loved others. There was a small corner of his being that called that rationale weak: a man could have a bondmate and love as many others as he could keep. But Spock recognized that as the warrior instinct. Logic would rule, as it had all of Vulcan for five thousand years.
He turned aside the beginnings of fear as T'Pen unraveled the joining of his mind to Jilla's. It was right, it was necessary. He focused on the golden strand that complimented his telepathy. Ruth waits, he told himself. I need, not fear. When next The Time comes, she will serve...
If she has not died in a healing. If we are not separated by the whims of Starfleet. She is not bonded, she will not be drawn as would rilain. My call, my need could go unnoticed, as hers did on Haddor. She could hear me only when it was too late. I would burn, I would burn and...
T'Pen, you must stop!
He was ignored. The unweaving continued. Wordless terror invaded his being; instinctive, ancient, overpowering. Blood fever filled him, memory of fiery agony and the desperate fury of being rejected. To be rejected was to die. This one was HIS. No child-bond this, no less-than-marriage-more-than-betrothal. This was the full bond, consummated and complete. He would not give it up, would not give the female away. He would never again release what was his; would NOT allow his life/hope to be torn from him. He would fight... would kill before he would allow…
Logic, Spock. Reason.
I will not...
There is Keheil, Spock. She will serve you. This one belongs to another.
There is no other! She is MINE! Farrei! Attend!
Kroykah!
Woman, you presume too much.
Control, Spock. This severing must be. Use your mind. Instinct can be conquered. There is no need to fear. You will not die in The Time. Keheil serves, Spock. She-who-is-your-wife.
Spock shuddered. The fear was strong, beating at him mercilessly. Memory of his own cruelty to the one he loved so dearly burned within him. Would she not be justified in refusing him? How could he take that chance? That he deserved to die in agony did not make him desire it. Jilla would save his life... was bound to do so. He would save hers as well. Neither wanted to die... however much death might be their due. How could he let that surety go?
An animal's logic, Spock. Is there no surety with Keheil? You claim your telepathy is in harmony. Surely, then, she knows of your need and will serve... or it will destroy her as well. And Jilla has another mate. He, too, will serve the need. She is not your responsibility, Spock. Fear can be mastered.
Fear can be mastered, Spock repeated. This severing is necessary. Ruth waits. He held on to that as T'Pen continued. More and more of the braiding was undone and Spock concentrated on gathering the loosened ends before fear tore at them, fraying them. He wound them around the golden strand…. and felt Ruth's jolt as the contact sent pain into her mind. He backed away in sudden panic. He would not, could not hurt her again. And with the panic came renewed terror. You cannot hurt her, she cannot serve... I will die, I will die!
Keheil, shield!
I CAN'T!!
Ruth tried to remain calm, to shield the pain and fear and confusion. Sauvrn-scarred telepathy cringed away from the contact with other minds. All her training in ignoring pain from other beings' minds had been jolted so far down in her own that she couldn't reach it.
Not this again, ani Ramy. An impatient sigh from Antares joined the Vulcan healer's demand and Spock's fear inside her.
I'll be there, Spock. I promise I'll be there. But please... it hurts!
Heal it.
Z!
You can do anything you have to, zilama.
Annoyance replaced fear and confusion. I do not recall inviting any of you into my head. She ignored the smug satisfaction that came both from Antares and somewhere deep inside herself and signaled, Continue, Healer.
Control, Spock
Control. Spock steadied himself, allowing the severance to go on. He countered the fear with knowledge and logic, keeping the terrified animal at bay. Ruth waits, Ruth waits, he repeated until it had overwhelmed the fear.
Only to be abruptly shattered as Jilla's being clawed past T'Pen and clutched to him in panicked hysteria.
No, NO! MINE! You cannot have him, you will not take him!! MINE, MINE!!!
Spock, klee fah!
He tried to push her away, to order her to leave him but his own fear and possessiveness leapt out and he pulled her to him, enfolding her in his being. Leave us, woman! he ordered. You have no place here.
I am Healer. You will obey me.
The woman is mine! You will not...
The bond will be severed, Sareklrn.
NO! I forbid it! She is...
KROYKAH!
Again the command froze Spock. Helplessly he felt Jilla being pulled away, put again behind the wall T'Pen had made. Fear beat wildly at him, filling him with pain. I do not wish this, I cannot bear it!
Conquer the fear! There is Keheil. Use your mind!
Ruth!
No, she must shield. She will serve, Spock. She will serve.
Jilla screamed in blind terror. Thoughts of death surrounded her, tearing at her sanity. She HAD to hold on to her mate, she HAD to! There was no sentient rationality, no logic or reason. Only the horror and terrible burning that threatened to consume her. She cried and screamed, a wild, mindless animal, hurting and fearful and uncomprehending. There was a voice that pulsed within her, trying to catch her attention, to focus it on... Something Else. Someone else. Tia, it whispered. Here. Mate. But it was trying to take her mate from her, how could it...
The Human.
Need my mate...afraid...will die... needhimneedhimneed.....
Sulu.
My mate...need....
The Human. Sulu.
Mate....
Feel the bond. Human. Sulu. Your mate is here. Human, Jilla. Feel the tia. Sulu.
Sulu. Need Sulu. My mate, my Human, need him, need Sulu…
The terror receded as sanity slowly returned. Sulu was here. Sulu was bonded to her, had been since her Time. She would not die, Sulu was here. She held on to that as T'Pen went on and madness again began to swirl around her.
Sulu bit his lip as Jilla’s fingers clawed into his arm. Her unseeing eyes were frightening, as were the inarticulate sobs of fear that came from her throat. Twice he'd almost grabbed T'Pen, desperate to stop the agony flashing across Jilla's face. But the Healer had glanced up both times, her dark eyes warning him not to interfere. She'd even spoken once, encouraging words: "Do not let go of her, Commander." And he hadn't, but Jilla's nails were starting to draw blood.
Suddenly T'Pen spoke again. "Commander, I must complete the severing. It will require voluntary action on both Spock and Jilla's part. I am not certain they are able, but you must, on my signal, move away from her. She must come to you, not be pulled by you, or the bond will never be truly broken. If you understand this, say nothing."
Sulu stared, swallowing. Jilla tensed beneath his touch and he closed his eyes.
The braid had been undone. The complicated weaving was now only countless separate threads. Both minds would be sensitive and bruised for a time, but there would be no permanent damage, if she could successfully break the link that was the beginning of the bond.
T'Pen gathered all her strength, recalled all her training. As difficult as the rest of the process had been, this was the crucial step. If she had misjudged, if there were a braid she had not seen, an interweaving she had not separated, both would die. More than both: she could not predict the effect it would have on the Keheil who was imperfectly shielded, or the Human who had no knowledge of the linking of his life to the Indiian's. She made one final check, then spoke, first to Spock, then to Jilla.
Are you prepared?
Ruth waits, came the subdued but steady answer.
And you?
Sulu is here.
Go to him, Jilla. NOW!
At that same moment, T'Pen snapped, "Leave her. Commander," unable to take her concentration from the severing to see if he obeyed. Spock cried out; she felt the Keheil react; Jilla screamed...
....and the cord that bound Spock to Jilla snapped in a clean, painful break, bleeding fear and agony into four minds.
Ruth screamed, the pain overwhelming her, She dropped the guitar and rushed in blind need through Starn's house to the room in which Spock knelt. Terror beating at her, she pushed past T'Pen and pulled Spock into her arms, thrusting her mind into his to stop the agony tearing through them both. She shouted defiance at the discomfort left by the sauvrn and concentrated on healing her husband's fear.
It was the hardest thing Sulu had ever done, but he pried Jilla's fingers from his arm and crossed the small room. Abruptly he was filled with anger and the need to call her, to demand she come to him. But he choked back the words, forcing his body to stay where it was. Then came pain and fear and furious need and the emotions found an outlet as a roar began in his throat. Seconds before he lost all control, Jilla was breaking from T'Pen, racing to him, her eyes wild and terrified. The roar came as he caught her, crushing her to him, his mind and body screaming in possessive urgency. It was impossible to ignore, even if he had wanted to. He pushed her to the floor, tearing clothing away, claiming her with no understanding of what he was doing or why...
T'Pen collapsed to the floor, her mind working to recover from the shock of the dissolution. Her healer's training forced her to get up, to see if her patients had survived. Her eyes found Spock first. He was cradled in an Antari's arms, clutching to her, his face rapidly regaining peace and sanity. T'Pen nodded, deferring to the Keheil's skills, and looked for Jilla.
Then quickly rose and touched the Keheil's shoulder. "We must go," she said. "There must be no interference in the completion of this bond."
Ruth glanced up at T’Pen's voice, uncomprehending. Then she heard Jilla's unmistakable cries of passion and blushed fiercely, but helped Spock to his feet and followed T'Pen out of the room.