“Your first assignment will be a brief one,” the Telanate officer said. “We must determine your ability to blend in smoothly within a controlled setting. There is a Federation scientific outpost near the border of the Neutral Zone. You will be making a courtesy visit there, with an experienced agent who will oversee your performance. He will not be interacting with you, so as not to give you the benefit of his experience. His evaluation will be done telepathically and via conventional monitoring from the shuttle which will bring you to the outpost. Your stay will be only as long as needed to get a clear indication of your proficiency, and then you will return to the shuttle and back to this base where, if your assessment is a positive one, we will decide what more permanent assignment is best suited to your team. Is that understood?”

The three ‘Vulcans’ and the ‘Indiian’ nodded their comprehension. They were all seated in their superior’s office in front of the desk at which the Telanate sat. All were garbed in clothing that suited their new appearances, and both Tarvak and Joron were particularly pleased that traditional Indiian clothing allowed some of Joron’s chest to be exposed.

‘Cause he still wanna dress you like a slut, DelMonde thought with almost affectionate teasing.

And you’re still as vain as the day is long, Joron returned with a wry smile.

“You will use the same identities as in your training exercises,” the instructor continued, “with one addition. Liison, as it would seem odd for there to be only one Indiian in a group of Vulcans, you are being assigned another trainee as your aide.”

Joron blinked in surprise, but replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Sevok, you will be the team leader when away from your superior officer.”

Tarvak glanced at Ve’el, but nodded.

“T’Pal, I remind you that this must be accepted as the norm.”

“Of course,” Ve’el replied, her voice as properly without inflection as any Vulcan’s.

The instructor turned to Lahs. “Sonan, you are expected to be a properly efficient shadow. We believe that is well within your capability.”

“Yes, sir,” Lahs responded, without either lowering his eyes or bending his head.

“Liison, you are being asked to keep careful watch on your new aide. He has been thoroughly conditioned, but his mental state may still be somewhat fragile. And Joron – “ The Telanate momentarily reverted to clearly addressing the Romulan and not the false persona, “you must, in particular, guard against any emanations from your Warrior Bond status.”

The officer pressed a button on his desk, signaling someone beyond the door of his office.

“If I may sir, why is…?”Joron started to ask, then stopped speaking as another Telanate came in with his ‘aide.’

The hair was, as Joron’s own, a deep burgundy, the skin softly sparkling silver, the eyes the color of ice, but there was no mistaking the features of the adolescent Indiian.

“Wen?” Lahs blurted out, taking a step forward, only to be stopped by Ve’el restraining hand.

“Raen Vellin,” the young voice said with an uncertain smile. His right hand came up to his chest, fingers spread. “Honored morning, ma’am, gentlemen.”

The Telanate left them alone to allow them to acquaint themselves with the new member of their team. Lahs immediately moved to him.

“Wen, is it really you?” he asked, his eyes wide in awe.

The young Indiian shrugged. “I think so,” he said, glancing at Joron nervously.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Joron put in gently.

The boy shook his head. “My former master was – fixated – on you in particular,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“That is in the past now, Wen,” Tarvak said reassuringly.

“If you please, sir, call me Raen. It helps me to focus.”

“What happened to you?” Lahs wanted to know.

“How did they ever heal your – condition?” Joron added.

“And why did they make you an Indiian?” Ve’el put in. “Surely a quiet, contained Vulcan would have been a better choice.”

‘Raen’ addressed Ve’el’s question first. “It seems…” he began, then took a deep breath. “It seems, ma’am, that I’m not quite a non-gift,” he said.

“Ridiculous!” Ve’el snapped.

Non, DelMonde said carefully, studying the boy, non, he right. There more'an a li'l empathy there.

No wonder Deron used him so easily, Pelori concurred sympathetically.

The poor child… Joron murmured.

Well, it would certainly explain why he was such a perfect little slut… Ve’el drawled.

Shut th' fuck up, bitch! Del snapped.

That is a most inappropriate way to address… Tarvak began.

Leave it, beloved, Joron interceded. He has good reason.

Wen’s glance was moving rapidly between them, and Spock moved a few steps away from Joron. “Remember the Telanate’s warning, Joron,” he said.

“Which is how they were able to retrain my mind,” Wen went on, answering Joron’s question just as if the conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “Once they discovered that I have a touch of – pardon me, sir – Dei’lrn within me, they were able to use emotional stimuli to alter my – previously ingrained….”

“Reactions,” Tarvak finished kindly.

The boy smiled briefly. “Yes, thank you, sir.” He turned to Lahs. “Which is what happened to me. The Legate benevolently decided that I could be of use – “ He winced at the phrase. “ – to the Empire in this capacity. This way, I will only be interacting with trained agents such as yourself, so there will be no chance of my – contaminating – true…” He paused, another half-smile turning up the corners of his mouth invitingly, “…other Romulans.”

”Other Romulans?” Ve’el put in sharply.

“With all due respect, my Lady, if he is truly Dei’lrn…” Tarvak began.

Scan him, Pelori suggested. They have told him he is, indeed, to consider himself a true Romulan.

Yeah, so like I said, woman, shut th' fuck up! Del seethed.

“Hmmph!” Ve’el snorted.

“But you’re Indiian now,” Lahs said with a an apologetic glance at Ve’el.

“So I am,” Wen replied. “And, Mr. Kenrin, I am your aide-de-camp.” He gave a short bow to Joron. “I trust you will find my services acceptable.”

“I’m certain I will, Raen,” Joron returned with a smile and a quick but friendly pat on the shoulder. Wen winced, and Joron immediately removed his hand. “Does my touch disturb you?” he asked concernedly.

“I can – when you…” Wen took a breath. “It makes your Bond perceptible to me, forgive me, sir.”

“Then by all means, we will avoid physical contact,” Tarvak assured.

“Thank you, sir,” Wen said with a grateful sigh.

“He has always been a kind man,” Lahs said with a look of clear admiration for his former master.

“Well, then, since we must accept this…” Ve’el began disdainfully, and Pelori swiftly took over, making her features cool and impassively Vulcan. “We welcome you to our company, Raen.”

“My thanks, T’Pal,” Wen returned, then, acknowledging each of the others in turn, “Sevok, Liison…” His eyes lingered warmly on Lahs. “…Sonan.”

The shuttle that took then through the Neutral Zone was a standard if nondescript Federation vehicle, their Telanate superior a likewise nondescript Vulcan. He briefed them about the station’s facilities and general mode of operation, as well as the kind of scientific work that was routinely done there. The station commander was Human, Commodore Vicker, a geneticist in the upper echelons of Starfleet.

“You will be a small group on your way to a conference on one of the border planets,” the Telanate told them, “reporting in with Starfleet as is protocol. Your backgrounds will be checked, of course, but we have already put your covers into place. The Human will find nothing amiss with your credentials.” The trainees nodded their understanding, and little more was said in the hours it took them to reach Federation space.

An' that it? Del asked as MacEntyre sat down across the table from him in a small dingy bar on Science Station VZN763 on the Federation side of the Romulan Neutral Zone.

What did you expect me to do? Pelori replied. Send up a flare?

On the long shuttle ride through the Neutral Zone, the two of them had devised a way to communicate via a shielded channel while Joron and Ve’el kept up a layer of telepathic “chatter” to distract their trainer/observer.

I certainly not expect we make contact by makin’ a weird mark on a bathroom wall, Del returned, sipping the drink he’d ordered.

Never estimate the power of low tech. MacEntyre picked up her mineral water. An agent checks this location every day. We should have a special visit from a member of the hotel staff this afternoon.

Sooner the better. Del could hear Joron wondering how Tarvak was faring with the non-gifts. They had arranged for the Vulcan disguised as a Romulan disguised as a Vulcan to take an informal walking tour with the energetic aides to orient themselves to the new environment. Ve’el’s character had pled exhaustion – sounding much more Ve’el than Vulcan. Then she had let herself be reluctantly persuaded by Joron’s character to visit this bar for a change of scenery.

A strange expression crossed MacEntyre’s face as she sipped her drink. Why does my mineral water taste like a scotch and soda?

Del grinned. Bartender musta made a mistake. He seem kinda absent-minded to me.

Don’t get cocky, Pelori warned, noticing for the first time that the authentically Indiian drink the Cajun had ordered for some reason looked a lot like bourbon. We’ve not been waved home yet.

His non-pointed eyebrows lowered. You not t’ink your bosses try to send us back, do you, cher?

It’s unlikely, she replied, then paused. There would have to be a very good reason.

Wen not goin’ back, Del informed her firmly. Chekov neither. I not gonna stand fo' neither one o’ them bein’ beat on no more.

That would be my preference too, MacEntyre agreed. But… Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? If all goes well, it won’t be an issue.

It was the middle of the work cycle on the station, so there were few other patrons in the bar. They’d taken a seat in dimly lit corner. Despite the fact that one rarely saw a Vulcan woman out drinking with an Indiian man, a scientific station like this one maintained a rather rich mix of professionals drawn from many different races. No one was giving them a second glance.

Sugar, Del’s mindvoice scolded. When we linked like this, don’ you dare be t’inking of another man.

I was listening to Ve’el, MacEntyre explained. She just made another disparaging comment about the non-gifts, but when she thinks of your friend….

She start wishin’ it was bathtime? Del teased.

It’s funny. Humans place so much emphasis on physical attraction, but for the four… I mean, eight of us, it’ s so secondary. Lahs has your friend’s body. Lahs bores her to tears. But when she gets even a little taste of that other man….

The Cajun grinned. Ha-cha-cha, non?

Your Russian friend really does it for her for some reason.

And fo’ you? Del had to ask.

MacEntyre shrugged. Nice guy, but straight to the friend file. Same thing for me with you and Joron. Same body but makes a big difference who’s wearing it.

The engineer smiled. An' here I thought you jus’ like me fo’ my looks.

Oh, don’t discount your looks right now. MacEntyre’s lips twitched with an un-Vulcan smile as she let her eyes travel appreciatively over his frame. Because my mother died when I was so young, I’m culturally more Human than Indiian, but still, seeing you in silver…

Grows on you, huh? he said, playfully letting himself glow just a little.

You don’t understand, she replied. It speaks to me on a hormonal level.

An’ what it sayin’, darlin’?

Make lots of silver babies now, now, now! she returned, keeping her face very properly impassive.

Oh, my… Del pretended to be alarmed. Must got the charm settin’ dialed up too high. Maybe I should cut the hair.

Don’t you dare, MacEntyre replied, letting her mindvoice go into a faux growl.

Both of them seemed to notice at once that their glasses were almost empty.

We’d better go, Pelori thought, rising.

Yeah, Del agreed as Joron and Ve’el went into a dialog about who should pay the tab. You know when we get back to the room, we could probably get in a quick one ‘fore Tarvak an’ the kids get back.

You think Ve’el and Joron could talk over that for us? MacEntyre asked dubiously as the two Romulans decided in character to each pay their own bill.

Oh, hell, yeah, the Cajun assured her. That bastard on the shuttle not t’ink not’ing ‘bout the two o’ them takin’ turns t’inking ‘bout what nice ceilin’ tiles an’ pillows we got in our rooms.

I’m sure you’re right, Pelori agreed facetiously as the two of them exited into a turbolift.

You ever been to New Orleans, darlin’? Del asked as the unit swept them upwards and Ve’el and Joron argued about whether or not they’d been overcharged for the drinks.

On Earth?

No, the li’l minin’ town on Pluto, he replied sarcastically. ‘Course on Earth. You ever been?

Not that I can recall.

Well, if you been, you would recall, he assured her. I know this li’l place that serve a mean scotch an’ soda. I take you there when we get outta this. I figure we gonna have some leave time owed us. You bosses do give you leave time, non?

A strange expression crossed Pelori’s face. You may get to find out.

You t’ink they gonna try to recruit me? Del frowned. Other than they excellent taste in employees, not been not’ing ‘bout this mission to recommend the people you work for to me.

But lots to recommend you to them, MacEntyre pointed out.

Oh? So that how it work? They not ask if you wanna work fo’ them, they tell you?

Pelori shrugged. That’s usually how it works.

Well… Del made a face that didn’t go with the point Joron was trying to make to Ve’el. That somet’ing to t’ink ‘bout….

Yep, MacEntyre agreed.

Leas’ I might be able to get along wit’ one o’ my co-workers, he thought, looking on the bright side.

Oh? MacEntyre asked innocently. You know someone else in the organization?

Li’l Mac. Del made Joron sway so that he bumped against Ve’el’s shoulder.

MacEntyre smiled inside as the Romulan lady went into a telepathic snit about how clumsy Joron was.

Don’ let me scare you, girl, Del thought as Joron turned to glare indignantly at his companion. But, Pelori MacEntyre, I t’ink I start to fall in love wit’ you.

Noel DelMonde, MacEntyre thought back as Ve’el tossed her head angrily. I think you just might be doing that.

Well, lemme know if you start to feel anyt’ing, cher, Del requested as Joron turned haughtily away.

Oh, I will, MacEntyre replied as Ve’el stalked out of the lift.

Del urged Joron to hurry after her to the door of their suite of rooms.

For example, MacEntyre thought as Ve’el opened the door to her bedroom. I have some strong feelings right now.

Such as? Del asked as Joron tried half-heartedly to apologize in character to his Third.

I feel strongly that if there’s a coin toss for who shares beds tonight, MacEntyre thought just before Ve’el slammed the door in Joron’s face, that you’d better do your damnedest to win.

How long will we have to wait? Tarvak asked Spock as “Sevok’ pointed out the interesting features of the station to ‘Raen’ and ‘Sonan.’

Unknown, the Vulcan replied. Miss MacEntyre did not seem to think it would be too long.

What will happen to the Telanate aboard the shuttle?

I imagine he will be taken into custody.

He will kill himself first, Tarvak returned with more than a touch of respectful pride.

That may well be – Spock paused. And I can understand why it is what you hope for.

I have pledged myself not to interfere in your mission, Spock, the Romulan said gravely, but I have no wish to further compromise the Empire or my honor.

After a short silence, Tarvak continued.

After the contact with Miss MacEntyre’s superiors, will we be taken to some secure Federation location?

Possibly, the Vulcan said. Although it is equally possible that our debriefing will take place on board the Enterprise. She was to remain stationed in the area, following our progress.

And … There was clear discomfort in the Romulan’s voice, do you have any idea how long it will be after that that Joron, Ve’el, Lahs and I will be – extricated?

Spock spared a moment of quiet sympathy with his guest. No, I’m afraid not, Tarvak.

Joron and I will give you no trouble, and I suspect Lahs will not even understand what is happening, and Ve’el… He sighed. Ve’el is best left to Miss MacEntyre. But Spock – if I might ask a consideration. If you and Mr. DelMonde would allow Joron and me one final moment together….

If Mr. DelMonde has no objections, I certainly will not stand in the way of your Bond, Spock said, his tone one of respectful understanding.

Thank you, Spock of Vulcan, Tarvak replied.

You are welcome, my Romulan brother.

Pelori, let me in! Del said as he knocked on the closed door to ‘T’Pal’s’ room.

“I have a headache, Mr. Kenrin,” Ve’el answered coldly. “Leave me to my meditations.” Inside Del’s head, he heard, Go away, Human!

Your body not want some o’ that nice release? he asked sardonically.

Vulcan females are frigid, the Romulan spat.

But you not, girlie.

Go away!

Come on, jus’ one li’l bitty kiss? Then he added, more strongly, Pelori!

She won’t let me, Del, the lieutenant replied.

Shee-it! I am so feelin’ it, Li’l Mac… I wanna make love to you while I still silver.

Me too, but…

I said go away! Ve’el snapped.

I gonna throw a fuckin’ party when you outta her, woman!

You do that.

Del sighed as strong mental barriers shut off his communication with the half-Indiian. He wandered back to the sitting room and plopped himself down on one of the couches, debating going back the bar and buying himself a bottle of bourbon. There was a vid screen in the room, but nothing to read.

An’ no guitar, no lythyr, not even one o’ them Indiian ontontes, he muttered to himself. What the hell Indiians do in they spare time anyway?

Fuck Sulu, he answered himself, then grinned. An’ wit’ her at San Fran an’ him on the Drake, not a whole lot o’ that goin’ on neither.

And I not be t’inkin’ ‘bout San Fran.

He sighed again, and activated the vid screen.

When Sevok and the aides returned, the two younger males were talking animatedly together. Well, Del found himself thinking, Wen animated anyway. Lahs was listening quietly, occasionally putting in a remark or answering a question, but he radiated pleasure. It did the engineer’s heart good to see the young Romulan-turned-Indiian behaving so vivaciously. It didn’t bother him one bit that their return to the Federation meant escape from the cruelties of Romulan society for the former bedslave. He didn’t know how Wen felt about it, but he had a hard time imagining the boy could possibly object. Culture shock there would inevitably be, at first…

An’ the boy prob’ly gonna find hisself stuck in Pelori’s line o’ work, which he knew from wandering inside her mind was no picnic for an empath. Still, anyt’ing be better than what the damned Romulans done to him.

Wen suddenly turned, approaching him. “Mr. Kenrin, is there something amiss?” he asked apprehensively.

Jus’ a touch o’ empathy, huh? “No, Raen, I’m just nervous about the conference,” he replied in character, then winked at the boy. “We Indiians aren’t a patient people, are we?”

Wen smiled, but it was still uneasy. “No, sir, no we aren’t.”

“Mr. Kenrin, where is T’Pal?” Sevok asked.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, it’s Liison,” Del returned easily. “She’s meditating.”

“Then I will not disturb her,” the Vulcan said.

It was only a few moments later that the bedroom door opened and T’Pal entered the sitting room.

“Has the Commodore finished verifying our credentials, Sevok?” she asked without preliminary.

“Not yet,” Spock replied. “It appears we must wait here a while longer.”

The woman crossed the room to the replicator unit, ordering fruit juice, then turned politely. “Is there anything anyone else requires?” she queried.

Del rose, moving to stand next to her. “I could do with something to drink,” he said, like a nice, cool glass o’ MacEntyre, he added privately.

Pelori blinked in faux incomprehension, and Wen started blushing.

“A glass of juice would be most refreshing,” Sonan put in as Lahs also crossed to the replicator, his features frowning at Liison.

With a private scowl, Del gestured to the replicator. “After you, Sonan,” he said.

Let me talk to him, Pelori said in the engineer’s mind. I think he still feels protective of Ve’el.

Del ‘hmph’ed’ but went back to the couch and the vid screen.

“What is it?” MacEntyre asked quietly as Lahs got a glass of juice from the replicator.

“I’ve been curious, ma’am,” he responded his voice soft with both propriety and care for other ears, “what you meant when you said I could be of great help to you here. I’ve been trying to understand, but as a mere aide, I wouldn’t be given access to any important information, would I?”

A cold chill ran down Pelori’s spine, but she stopped herself from blurting out the automatic what?! that formed in her mind. Quickly she shut the barriers between Ve’el’s mind and her own. “As an aide, you could possibly be asked to carry sensitive information for Sevok or myself,” she replied as Ve’el, desperate both to draw him out further and to quell the rapidly growing terror within her.

Lahs’ face brightened. “Because, as with – certain other classes in – certain other societies – an aide would not be likely to concern himself with the contents of such information?”

“Precisely,” Pelori answered and let her lips twitch in what she knew he would interpret as an approving smile. “You’ve grown so smart, Sonan,” she said, but inside her mind she was calling frantically for both Spock and Del.

At the desperate call, both Spock and Del headed for the two ‘Vulcans’ standing by the replicator. Wen’s eyes went wide, and he, too, started forward, then stopped, hesitating as a knock sounded on the door to the suite.

“Get that, please, Raen,” Del said, and the young Indiian turned back to the door, his face shimmering.

A Human female and a Vulcan male stood there in a Starfleet uniforms, and the woman said one word. “Peacock.”

Several things happened at once.

Pelori stiffened, her hand automatically going to her sleeve. She took out her jammer and activated it.

“Mission complete,” she said tonelessly. “All objectives identified.”

DelMonde and Spock could hear Ve’el screaming.

Wen rushed to Lahs’ side. “Mission?” he faltered uncomprehendingly.

“Mission, Mistress?” Lahs repeated, completely forgetting his Telanate training as terror gripped his heart.

Aboard the shuttle, the Telanate frowned at his monitors were suddenly filled with static. Team leader, report! he demanded immediately.

There seems to be some technical problem with the station, Spock said in Tarvak’s voice. We are in no danger of discovery.

The officer quickly keyed the information into the shuttle’s computers, then tried to modulate the frequencies of his communications panel to be able to send it to the Bird of Prey that waited in the Neutral Zone.

In one horrific second, Pelori comprehended all Lahs had implied. She quickly verified it with Ve’el memories before the Romulan fled to the deepest recesses of her own mind.

Nothing you can do about it, child, Ve’el whispered from behind her own locked doors. I will find a way to inform the Telanate of everything you know, every flaw and fault and weakness in your allegedly superior Intelligence Unit. I can hide here for years, if need be, and I can make you forget I exist. Your superiors will never be able to find me without destroying your mind., and if that, by some chance, also destroys me, it is a fitting sacrifice to make for my Empire!

It was, Pelori realized, all true. She had been compromised in a way much more devastating than had the former Romulan bedslave. She was now a danger to all other telepaths and empaths, not only in Intelligence, but in the entire Federation. – and she would not infect them with mere sexual perversions. There was strength in Ve’el that was impossible for her to contain. She realized that the Romulan had only been playing with Del when he had ‘trapped’ her within Pelori’s mind. It had been part of her larger scheme to lull her host into a false sense of security, a certainty that Ve’el could be controlled. Now, that surety was shattered beyond all repair. As long as Pelori MacEntyre lived, she would jeopardize everything she believed in, everything she had dedicated her life to. She could not, would not allow that to happen. She would not become a Marauder.

She took a deep breath, and filled her being with the words she had been longing to say, the emotions she had been afraid to let herself feel. He wouldn’t understand, she knew, and she grieved for the further damage this would do to his already ruined psyche, but she would not allow herself to compromise him. It was the only gift she had to give him.

I LOVE YOU!

Del was nearly knocked breathless by the force of pure emotion that flooded his senses. He gasped, his eyes going wide as he reacted immediately to the tidal wave that poured out of Pelori. Her doors vanished, washed away by her feelings for him, as she opened herself more fully than anyone else in his life had ever done, more even than Ruth. It was like a circuit completing, and he comprehended all she had done, and all she was going to do.

No, cher, NO! he screamed at her as he body turned to the Fleet officers in front of her.

“Terminate. Code black,” she said.

Without hesitation, the Human woman retrieved her phaser, aimed it, and fired directly at Pelori’s chest.

In a brilliant blue-white flash, Lieutenant Pelori MacEntyre disappeared, taking the Romulan, Lady Ve’el of Klii-sun, into the void with her.

Within DelMonde, Joron watched in horror as the engineer’s mind collapsed. It was like being caught in a maelstrom of fractured memories, torn and battered thoughts were pieces of glass, tearing at his psychic flesh, shredding his soul and his sanity to a bleeding mass of shattered despair.

Tarvak, my Bonded, help me! the Romulan cried.

How, Dei’lrn, how? came the anguished response.

Desperately Joron searched through the splintered pieces, trying to find anything large enough to build on. But there was only one; bright, golden, colored with grief and pain and rage.

Spock’s Bond! Joron gasped. Kah-lir, it is the only way! It is the only thing strong enough to keep him alive! Please, beloved, convince Spock, hurry!

No, Joron, we cannot – we must not sully…

Del will die! Joron shrieked.

And we will be dishonored dead.

We will be complete! They will be complete! Their rage will no longer tear at each other, their rivalry will know only the communion of a true Third Bonded! Tarvak, this solves everything!

It solves nothing! Spock suddenly roared.

Stubborn Vulcan, don’t you see? When it is complete, it will feel right! It will be strong and beautiful, as Tarvak and I are…

I will not share her!

You don’t understand, not yet, Joron seethed. But I can make you! He called the blue power that lay within Del’s body and focused it on the faded golden thread that was the only thing holding the Human’s broken soul together.

RAW-ETH!

Ruth Valley collapsed over her computer terminal in the San Francisco shipyards as a storm of blue descended over her. The call was an agonized roar of need and pain and fear – but she had no recognition of the source of the mind. From the color and the name, she had been sure this could only be Del, but…

Who the fuck are you?! she screamed at it.

No time, my Lady! came the breathless response, and she realized the form of the mental words was Romulan. Please, I beg you, you must consent, you must do as I ask…!

Wife, NO! was thunder in Spock’s voice.

Spock, I don’t… she began.

Please, Lady, if you Bond with Del you can save his life! You can save his sanity! If you but consent, your Bonded will have to accept him, you can all three live and love together and we will be…!

Dishonored dead, Joron! came a third mindvoice, addressing the first. If we sully this Bond, we are but dishonored dead!

It is NOT sullying, Kah-lir, it is completion! Lady, you are a healer, do you want to see Del die?

Spock, what is…?!?

I SAID NO!!

As abruptly as it had begun, the contact was forcefully broken. Ruth gasped, rasping in air as she felt Jilla’s presence suddenly hovering over her.

“Aema sumin tu!” the Indiian cried. “Ruth, what is wrong?!”

“I don’t know!” Ruth sobbed “But Del is dying!”

Jilla immediately went to the communications terminal, making a frantic, priority call to the Enterprise.

“Enterprise, this is Agent Halloway,” the Human woman said into her communicator. “There is a shuttle orbiting the station attempting to send a coded message through the Neutral Zone. Apprehend immediately. Security Standby Team to beam down NOW!”

Lahs stood stricken with grief, staring in disbelieving horror at the spot that had, seconds before, contained his Mistress. “What… what is…?” he stammered out, then took one step forward.

The Vulcan male also took one step. “Moscow, release!” he commanded.

Lahs screamed, his hands coming up to the sides of his head. Wen rushed to him, covering the convulsing body with his own.

“Don’t hurt him please, Master, don’t hurt him!” the bedslave cried, tears spilling from his gray eyes. Through his fear he saw pillars of shimmer coalescing at the far end of the room, then saw Joron throw himself bodily at Tarvak.

Go To Part Twenty-Two
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