And now, after nearly a year, it seemed that both his and Sulu’s sacrifice had been for nothing.
But how? How had Sulu been recaptured? Who had done this? And why, Spock wondered ironically, did it matter?
Accept it.
No. He is not what he should be. Not free. And not that which I love. I was never attracted to only his body.
He is here with me. I have him back and I will not be alone anymore.
Indeed? And will this – creature – understand as Sulu did? Will he know when or what – or how – to give what you need, even when you cannot ask , even when you yourself do not know?
What difference does any of that make? He is lost to me. Such training...
Love is not selfish. A telepath did this to him, a telepath should be able to undo it.
Even if I am able to release him, I will only be again forced to banish him from my life. Even to try would mean a deeper meld than I have ever attempted before. It would be difficult and painful, more so for him than for me. It could even kill him.
Would that not be better than to be a contented slave? He would think so.
But can I do it? Have I the skill? The risk...
Where there is life, there is hope...
The meld may be so deep that our minds will be permanently linked together.
Will Sulu object if it retrieves his sanity?
And is not making such a decision for him the same as enslaving him? And if it is, would we not find ourselves where this began – bound together without choice – and will that not again lead him to despair and death?
That is the risk to you. Will you allow him to remain the one thing he cannot be – a whore – in order to ease your own desolation? Or is love selfish after all?
Determinedly, Spock left the balcony and crossed back to the bed. The cat, unnoticed, followed silently behind him.
Sulu’s eyes opened as he approached. His lips smiled sweet invitation. Spock settled beside him, took him in his arms and gently kissed him. He spoke reassuringly. “Do not be afraid,” he said, and eased Sulu back on the bed.
He placed his fingers lightly on Sulu’s temples, closed his eyes, and lowered his telepathic barriers.
At first he encountered only what the trainer had put in Sulu’s mind: a storehouse of erotic knowledge, a desire to please his owner. Even Spock, as jaded to all eroticism as he was, was awed by the extensiveness of the training. There were methods and skills within Sulu’s being that were found in only the most decadent of pleasure houses. Spock’s heart beat faster. His body ached to sample all the hedonism his thoughts absorbed. He wanted the beautiful Human, more desperately than he ever had before. Yet he knew that to taste this ecstasy, even for a moment, would break his resolve and damn Sulu to a slave’s existence forever.
He narrowed his concentration and probed more deeply. Fear. Cold, stark fear, sheer horror. There were layers of it, nameless and mindless. For hours, Spock battled it, tore it, moved it aside as harmless memory. It struck answering chords within him, old terrors surfacing – but with no warm embrace and sorrowing eyes to comfort him. He nearly panicked and broke the meld – then seemed to hear echoes, not only of his voice, but of Sulu’s. It is all right. It is a nightmare, but it is gone. It is only a dream. He gathered the strength of his love and fought on.
Pain next, burning searing agony; torture of the mind as well as the body. Instruments of torment were displayed before Spock’s mind, each causing its own kind of injury. Each broke the Human’s powerful will and resilient body a little further. The sound of Sulu’s voice screaming, pleading, tore at Spock’s senses, bringing him again to the point of retreating from the unendurable agony. He knew what it took to make the Human scream. But the hint of will, though it was breaking, kept him going. He eased the remembered pain, banishing it to the past, and promised, no more. I will protect you, better than I have up till now.
Still deeper he probed.
Defiance. Anger. Bitter hatred. And the first sense of Sulu himself.
Damn him damn him how could I have trusted – cat and mouse game – gods, why do I love him – why did he – he could’ve kept – instead of this torture – not even man enough to do it himself sends his damned father...
Father!? Spock’s thoughts bellowed, and he felt Sulu’s mind shrink back in horror. Frantically he calmed his senses, sending reassurance to his beloved.
He met resistance and determination and hesitated. Should he convince Sulu to give him access or should he break through? Would that not do as much to break his beautiful spirit? No, this is memory only. I must break through to what he was. He would not allow it in this state.
He marshaled all his strength, put away the part of him that would weep at Sulu’s cries, and forced his mind to stab at Sulu’s.
The scream pierced him to his very soul. Still he did not waver, holding his mind open to Sulu’s. I am here, he called. Come to me, be with me, kra’as n’ven, I love you, come to me!
No, NO! Keep away... Spock, where are you, how could...?
Here, beloved. Sulu, I am here.
No, you won’t trick me again...
Vulcan possessiveness flared in Spock’s soul. He dared to make you believe he was me?! Sulu’s mind started and Spock tried frantically to quell his rage. But the mind-voice that touched him, though timid and fearful held a touch of hope, and of wary belief.
Spock?
Desperate anticipation sparked in Spock’s mind. Yes, beloved, I am here! Come!
Spock!
Spock felt his fervent welcome shuddering through Sulu’s being as Sulu’s own intense relief flooded his. In an instant, they were one.
Cold fear, sharp horror, the memory of pain and rape entwined. Long ago, a desert night, drug-filled depravity, the humiliation and degradation ripped at him. It bled into more recent agonies, the searing discipline of training, the agony and despair of servitude. It was covered with loneliness and loss, empty duty, sleepless nights. Cries of a forbidden name in the dark hours, pleading for the peace of death and an end to torment. Helpless, hopeless confession, desperate hunger, longing that screamed in the veins and heart, pounding through craven flesh. Lost sorrow, weariness, tears of desolation and need. Life, honor, duty, Vulcan fleet, Human fleet, warrior, loyal officer, dedicated commander, running from the taunts and threats, believing the dream, the ideal. Culture clash, compassion, a spark, lightning, thunderbolt – eye to eye, heart to heart, soul to soul. Destiny, karma unknown and unknowing, no reason, no logic, no explanation – only plain, stark, unassailable, inexorable, undeniable truth. There is but one body, one spirit, one blood. There can be no peace, no completion, no life without this union. To tear it apart is to refuse the gift of the gods. One mind, one being, one conclusion. Life, love… hope.
Tears of joy mingled in his mind. All terrors and confusions were swept not aside, but into his heart, there to be cleansed and made into the strong bond of shared experience. All knowledge became him, all memory, all passion, all dreams woven into the cord that bound him. Even the disagreement, the contradiction became but accented threads. Separate being met, surprised but overjoyed, accepting eagerly, flowing into devotion and shared desire. Quickly the passion of the mind was aroused, sparking fire into the joining, stimulation of the very centers of emotion and sensation within him. It was a heat greater than the physical, overwhelming in its intensity, farther reaching, timeless, eternal. Yet it evoked the same pleasure, the same soaring carnality – and the same heights of ecstasy. Life, being, hope…. love.
Hours had passed. Or was it minutes? Or days? Spock could not be sure, and it didn’t seem to matter. He had reveled in Sulu’s being, rejoiced that the Human – no, the man, his friend, his lover – had joined the revelry. There was much he now understood, and much he had to atone for. Gently, he pulled away from the meld, assuring Sulu that he would not be completely gone from him. Sulu relaxed, let go his tight grip on the powerful Vulcan mind. They became again two.
Spock gently moved his fingers from their position against Sulu’s cheeks and temples. The dark eyes shone up at his, full of fire and warmth and joy.
“Welcome home, my love,” Spock said softly. The beloved face flushed deeply, angry at and ashamed of the mindlessness of his earlier service. Spock understood. They had been cheated of their proper reunion. “That was an animal,” he murmured. “We have yet to greet each other.” He held out his hand.
Sulu took it, holding it lovingly to his cheek, then his eyes gleamed and he yanked on Spock’s arm, pulling him down to the cushions. Before Spock could protest, Sulu’s mouth was covering his, arms coming tightly around him.
“It was hell without you,” Sulu whispered huskily. “I thought it was what I wanted but it was so lonely... too lonely. I couldn’t bear it. Spock, I love you. I’ll be your slave if I have to...”
“No, stop,” Spock soothed. “The breaking of the meld has left an emptiness. It will pass, but it is that which now speaks. You cannot be owned. As I cannot own you, could not from the beginning.”
“I can’t bear to be parted from you,” Sulu whispered, and Spock heard the beginnings of shame and despair. How could he combat it, how could he prevent it from overwhelming Sulu’s heart? Had he put them both through the terror of breaking the training, only to truly lose in the end?
There is a solution. The ancient texts speak of it with honor.
But with a Human? You would be disowned. The disciples of Surak’s Way would abandon you.
I have lost the Disciplines already.
Where would you go, where would you take your Human?
I am still a Fleet Commander. The Le-Matya is still mine...
And would your officers continue to respect you?
I earned it once, I can do so again.
With ruthlessness toward Humans?
Another way will present itself. Where there is life, there is hope.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and put Sulu an arm’s length away from him. He looked steadily into the face of his beloved. “There is an ancient union among my people,” he said. “It is a telepathic bonding of hearts, minds, and souls. It has come to be reserved for male/female pairings, but in our past, it was common between warriors.” He saw both anxiety and anticipation grow in the dark almonds. “Vulcans have a mating cycle, Sulu,” he continued. “Once every seven years, a fever takes us and we must mate or die. It is in this fever that the bonding occurs.” He took a deep breath. “If you wish it, when my time comes, we will be one, bonded forever.”
Sulu was silent, staring into his eyes for so long that he almost withdrew the suggestion. “We need not speak of it now...” he began, attempting to hide the misery.
“I wish it,” was Sulu’s quiet answer. “But you said mating….” He flushed. “Doesn’t that require a female?”
Joy he had never known possible swept through Spock’s being. He smiled, fully, openly, stroking the silky hair of his lover – lover! – almost adoringly. “We will attend to that necessity in time,” he murmured gently. “For now, my love, let us choose what we require.”
Sulu smiled eagerly, his gaze drinking in the sight of Spock’s body with such ardor that it made Spock blush. He had quite forgotten he was naked.
“You are the only being that has ever made me feel desirable,” he confessed quietly.
Sulu chuckled. “Everyone else is blind.”
“Am I beautiful to you, Sulu?”
The chuckle became a laugh. “Yes, gods, yes!” Then the sound faded as Sulu reached forward, his palm resting on Spock’s chest. The Human’s fingers slowly traced the contours of shoulder, ribcage, and abdomen. He neither lingered on nor ignored the scars. Leaning forward, he kissed the warm, Vulcan skin. His lips moved up to Spock’s throat, kissing the hollow there, then up and back to his ears, then forward again to his cheek, then to his lips. “You are beautiful, Spock,” he whispered. He pulled away, letting Spock read the sincerity in his eyes and in his thoughts. I’m telling the truth, the soft mind voice said. All Vulcans are telepaths. Did you not know? There was a touch of amusement, a recollection of the time Spock had used those words – and as always, Spock was surprised at the lack of bitterness.
How could I be bitter, beloved? came the unexpected response. All that has happened has brought me to you. Sulu stretched alluringly, his bronzed body as erotic as his training demanded. But this time, deliberate fire, not mindlessness danced in his eyes. “And am I?” he taunted sensually.
Spock swallowed. “Yes,” he managed, his voice rough with passion. He reached for the beauty before him. Sulu’s hands pressed on his chest.
“Say it,” Sulu pleaded. Spock smiled.
“I love you.”
“I was faithful.”
“I was not.”
“Then I need it more than you.”
One flared eyebrow rose. “Indeed?”
“I served you.”
The anger that began within Spock was so easily calmed and abandoned that it almost made the Vulcan laugh from sheer delight. You were wrong, Surak! he shouted silently. Love is not the most dangerous of emotions, it is the only emotion that matters at all. He bowed his head in formal acquiescence to Sulu’s statement, then let his eyes shine up at the younger man.
“So you did,” he whispered, then lowered his head again, this time to kiss the hollow of Sulu’s throat. Fingers stroked his ears and he shuddered. He moistened his lips, tasting the cool salt sleekness of Sulu’s chest. He let his own fingers skim over the smooth flesh, burning every remembered line and plane anew into his mind. He lingered at the responsive nipples, teasing them to erection, hearing Sulu’s soft moans. His tongue took over the task and the body beneath him tensed in pleasure. It seemed to spur him on and he moved his caresses lower. He felt the confusion that was near to panic in Sulu’s being.
“I was teasing,” Sulu whispered hoarsely.
“Hmmm. Were you?” Spock returned, his voice sultry.
He grasped at Sulu’s hips, nuzzling to the flat stomach, inhaling the sharp musk scent of his maleness. There was the scent too of his earlier assault – he admitted ruefully that, despite Sulu’s state, it was assault. Guilt assailed him and he determined to please his lover to the very limits of his endurance. They had made love before, but he was invariably the recipient. Tonight he would take nothing. Only give.
You don’t have to, sounded softly, almost fearfully in his mind. Then there came a picture from what seemed like years ago, Sulu kneeling beside the bath in his quarters on the Le-Matya, his hands moving over his own erection, stimulating himself. Spock let the Human know he saw the intent, and gently brushed it aside.
Carefully, slowly he licked at Sulu’s body, long laps to sensitize the skin, to tease and arouse. He moved his hands to stroke the silken thighs, skirting upwards only to retreat before touching the swelling testicles and hardening cock. Sulu moaned again. Spock smiled, repeating the action. Then he let his tongue just touch the sensitive head of Sulu’s erection.
Sulu jumped, shivering, his hands grabbing at Spock’s head. Spock easily kept it at the precise position he wanted, despite Sulu’s efforts to force it away – or father down. He continued his sweet torment, enjoying Sulu’s desperate writhing. He ran his tongue lightly over the throbbing flesh, exploring every inch, tasting, savoring. He added to the torture, letting his fingers press between Sulu’s legs.
Sulu gasped. “Spock,” he rasped, “please...please!”
Spock lapped slowly up and down the length of the engorged shaft. Say it whispered teasingly from his mind to Sulu’s. The Human’s reply was not, however, what he expected.
“Suck me!” Sulu groaned.
Unlooked for yet not unwelcome pleasure shot through him, and with one last swirl of his tongue, and Spock complied. The feel of the hard flesh in his mouth made him shudder, and Sulu’s groans and rasps became more throaty, more frequent. He sucked, grasping the base of Sulu’s cock with one hand, manipulating his balls with the other, often reaching behind them to tease the sensitive flesh there. Sulu’s mind fed to him through the tenuous link, but he kept enough sense about him to realize when orgasm was close – and to stop.
Sulu nearly screamed but Spock waited until the urgency passed. Then he began again. Sulu begged him, but again he brought his lover to the brink of climax only to cease the stimulation short of fulfillment. A third time, and a fourth, and Sulu was pleading fiercely.
“I can’t stand it, Spock, let me come, gods, please let me come!” he gasped hoarsely.
“Not this way,” Spock returned, his own voice thick with passion.
“What – I’ll do anything – anything!”
Spock kissed him, then moved up beside him. He closed his eyes, and turned his back to Sulu. “Take me,” he said, “claim me as I have claimed you.”
There was a short, breathless silence, then came Sulu’s voice, soft with awe. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Spock replied. “To bond with you I must be possessed as well as possessor. I wish it, Sulu.” He took a deep breath. “Please.”
Sulu covered his neck and shoulders with fervent kisses. “I love you, gods how I love you!” he whispered. Trembling hands stroked Spock’s thighs and buttocks. Deliciously cool lips kissed his flesh, a moist, skilled and agile tongue bathed him. It left him, only for a moment, and he felt sudden cool slickness against his anus. It won’t hurt if you use some lubrication echoed in his memory, and he couldn’t help but smile. He felt the pressure as the tip of the organ he had mouthed to readiness was guided to his anus. And though he had endured this act only as rape, his love filled him, relaxing him, and penetration came with no pain. The pleasure was so intense he cried out, trusting the new, strengthening link to tell Sulu it was not with pain. He felt tears fall on his back, and the link said tears of joy, my love. The feelings grew, the pleasure grew until they were both surrounded and enveloped in emotion/sensation. Sulu’s thrusts became harsh, quick and Spock breathed with them, his own hardness rubbing in rhythm against the cushions. They reached the peak together and stayed on the edge of ecstasy for an eternity.
And when it had crashed around them and Sulu lay exhausted beside him, eyes closed in perfect contentment, for the first time in his life, Spock knew peace.
“Father.”
Sarek turned from the window he had been looking out and raised his hand in greeting. “Good day, my son,” he said. “How may I be of service?”
Spock came to his Father’s side. Ignoring both the answering gesture and return greeting constrained by politeness and propriety, he said coldly, “I am required to thank you for your gift of last night.”
“Indeed,” Sarek responded, “you do not look as if you were pleased. A pity. I went to great trouble to procure this particular Human for you.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Would you have preferred that I sent you only his head?”
Spock felt the control on his temper slipping; and for once he did not care. “I gave him his freedom,” he snapped, “and you saw fit to drag him back to a life he hated. He was – is – friend to me, and more than friend. He means as much to me as Amanda does to you.” He stared hatred into his Father’s emotionless gaze. “If I could punish you for what you did,” he hissed, “I would.”
Sarek blinked in surprise, but the calm lines of his face changed not at all. “I see. If you cared for him so much why did you let him go?”
Spock continued to glare defiance. “Because I love him,” he asserted.
“I see,” Sarek repeated, one eyebrow rising. “Then you should rejoice at being reunited.”
“Not like that!” Spock clenched his fists in fury but managed to keep them at his sides. No matter what he felt, he could not strike his Father. “Would you want – my mother – as a trained whore, a mindless bed partner?”
“Your mother is my wife.”
“At the Time, I will take him,” Spock assured savagely. “Sulu and I will be bonded.”
“A Warrior Bond,” Sarek mused, still infuriatingly calm. “The Surakians will never accept it. And as you are my heir, there is the matter of inheritance beyond your generation.”
“I will provide for the House,” Spock returned grimly.
“You will be ostracized. He is Human.”
“He was a warrior on his home world.”
“And pleasure-trained,” Sarek reminded.
Spock felt the rage near to boiling over again at the humiliation that Sarek had inflicted on Sulu. “For that,” he hissed, “I will never forgive you. But Sulu is stronger than you know, or hoped. With his strength, I - we broke that training last night. He is himself once more.”
“Indeed? How fortunate,” Sarek almost drawled. “And can this be proven?”
“Do not test me, Father,” Spock snarled. “I have said it is so. If you question my honor...”
Sarek waved the question away. “Accepted, Spock. However, that will not save either of you from the outraged wrath of those of the Disciplines – and those who would kill rather than see such an ancient custom defiled by a half-breed and a Human.”
“It matters less than little,” Spock replied. His tone was uncompromising.
Sarek paused, turning from his son. “Why do you propose to commit suicide?”
“Because I love him,” Spock declared. “For no other reason than that. I know it is illogical, but as you have so dispassionately pointed out, I am a half-breed. So be it.” He took a deep breath. “I will accept that I am Human as well as Vulcan, for Sulu does. I will no longer live by Surakian standards. Sulu is my equal. I will treat him as he deserves to be treated.
“Despite the consequences?” Sarek questioned.
“Yes,” Spock answered firmly.
“Very well.” Sarek took several steps away from Spock, then again turned to face him. He spoke with great dignity, and great formality. “As head of this House I accept your decision.”
It was not the answer he had expected, and Spock could not control the surprise that pulled him up short. “I – I am gratified at your acceptance, Father, but...”
“I will expect the obedience of a son from this Human Warrior Bond, Spock.”
“Yes... of course, Father...”
“And that he be taught our lineage, and be able to pass the requisite tests – modified for his Human physical differences, of course.”
“Yes, Father...”
“And that both my sons give proper respect and acknowledgement to the Lady of this House.” He stared into Spock’s eyes, and Spock did not miss his meaning. He bent his head in acceptance.
“Yes, Father.” Sarek nodded and Spock, still stunned, turned to leave the House’s main room.
Sarek’s voice stopped him. “May I offer a suggestion?”
Spock turned back to his Father.
“Keep this bond a secret for now,” Sarek said. “You say you will accept your Human half. If that is so, you can be useful in helping to bridge the gap between your mother’s people and Vulcan. The Empire is ripe for change, Earth must be weary of this war. Peace is the only logical alternative. Come with me as part of the delegation.”
Spock stiffened. It was, he well knew, a logical consequence of the course he had set in motion. It would, however, require much work to conquer the xenophobic beliefs that existed within him. It was work he was willing to do. Yet, if he kept the bond a secret...
“I will not go without Sulu.”
“Bring him,” was Sarek’s response.
“As a slave,” Spock snorted. “That would surely convince the Humans of our sincerity.”
“It will when you free him and accept him as Warrior Bond before the entire assembly.”
Again, Spock was stunned. Yet the truth, the utter simplicity of it was beyond debate. Sulu would have the freedom he needed. Spock could take action against his guilt/fear of Human slavery; not as a rebel or outcast, but as an honorable duty. It was something he could do as both Vulcan and Human.
He smiled slowly and saw the answering smile in his Father’s eyes. “I will discuss it with Sulu,” he said, and left to do so, already certain of what his lover would say.
After talking with Spock, Sarek went to his wife’s rooms. He did not permit himself to relax until the door had closed on his private world. When he entered, Amanda immediately put aside the reader she was using and came to his side. She looked at him with the same joy at seeing him that had been in her eyes for many years – the same joy that their son would see in the eyes of his lover for the rest of his life. There would be the same peace between Spock and Sulu that he knew with this other captured Human. Sarek shared his smile with her as their fingers touched, as did their minds in the bond that until recently had been kept a strictly guarded secret.
“Your gamble worked?” she asked, knowing it, but being Human, needing to use words.
“It worked, my love. They will be bonded.”
She radiated happiness but there was worry in her eyes. Sarek cupped her cheek in his hand. “Do not fear, Spock has promised to provide the House with an heir. You will have grandchildren. Perhaps they will even find a woman to share between them. That is not unknown for Warrior Bonds.”
“I try to avoid knowing too much about Vulcan’s more exotic customs, my husband,” she reminded.
“As is proper for a middle-aged matron,” he teased in reply.
“Did you tell Spock what you did?” she it questioned anxiously.
Sarek shook his head. “That would have been most unwise. I think I am strong enough to bear his anger for mistreating his lover for awhile. Better that than to have him feel that he has been used, even though he would know it had been done for him."
She sighed. “Stubborn men, both of you. A pity the young man had to suffer but I doubt Spock would have admitted his feelings in any other circumstances.”
It had been Amanda who had first realized that Sulu meant more to Spock than just a favorite bed slave. She had inadvertently witnessed Spock’s flogging of him. She had been passing a window and had been caught by the grim scene in the courtyard. Transfixed, unable to move or turn away, she had watched and relived a painful memory from thirty years in her own past. Once, long ago, she had spoken to Sarek in his wife’s presence. She was young, still rebellious at the life she was forced to lead, and both Sarek and T’Pon found her apology inappropriate. He had taken her to the courtyard, tied her, and whipped her just as Spock was doing to Sulu. By the standards of Vulcan, it had been a very light punishment. It was nothing compared to the fury she saw Spock unleash on the handsome young man he had brought home with him.
She had watched his arm move with automatic ruthlessness in an even, seemingly endless rhythm, carving long, bloody channels in Sulu’s flesh until his will, his stubbornness had broken. The Human had finally screamed, one long, hideous sound before his head fell forward in a dead faint. For an instant Amanda knew hatred for the son she had protected with such pain. Then Spock turned toward her, the whip dropping from limp fingers and she saw his face. It was no trick of memory; for an instant he wore Sarek’s eyes. She recognized the pain in them. It glistened there, as it had in his father’s when, after her punishment so long ago, he had carried her to his room. The same anguish, the self-hatred, the struggle not to care were magnified in proportion with what he had done. Spock was his father’s son and he was in love with a Human just as his father had been.
Perhaps there was hope, a way to free him from the hell he had so deliberately placed himself in. If Sulu loved him...
She had rushed to tell Sarek. She had hated to remind him of the incident, but his recalling it made him accept her purely subjective evidence more easily. Once he accepted the possibility that Spock might indeed not be quite so cold-blooded as he had come to believe, Sarek had a talk with Senen. Senen had been trained by Sarek and fought by Sarek’s side and had accepted the duty of becoming his heir’s bodyguard as a mark of honor when Spock came of age. He had reported to Sarek on Spock’s welfare ever since. He had accepted the new assignment of reporting on the development of Spock and Sulu’s relationship without question.
It was through Senen that Sarek heard of the rather suspicious circumstances of Sulu’s escape, and Spock’s very uncharacteristic refusal to pursue a runaway slave. Sarek had considered Spock’s actions carefully and had made the decision to take the matter of his son’s personal life into his own hands. Fortunately, all personal shuttles were equipped with tracing beacons that Sarek’s warriors had no trouble following.
Once captured, Sarek had Sulu brought to him. Under intense telepathic interrogation, Sarek had decided that the young man was strong and honorable and intelligent; a worthy mate for his son. He had also found that love did indeed exist between them. All it needed was a little coaxing. So Sarek had taken the liberty, the risk, of providing the push that was needed. He was well aware that his son might never understand – and knew there were some things that, even if understood, would never be forgiven. But he had taken such risks for his only son all his life. That this risk was greater than all the others was countered by the knowledge that, whether won or lost, it would prove to be the last.
“We are a difficult species,” he agreed, “as I believe both you and Sulu know better than we do ourselves.” He paused, then gazed into the eyes of his wife. “I can only hope that we prove ourselves worth the difficulty.”
“You do, my husband,” Amanda assured him warmly. “You do.”