Wake, rilain, and trust me.

Jilla's eyes flew open with the mental contact. She was in Spock's arms and for a moment felt panic claim her. She could hear Sulu's desperate voice damning the Vulcan, could feel his hopeless rage echoing through the bond. She worked frantically to get herself under control: the emotional overload had shattered her. Emotions beat at her from all directions. Her own inability to believe what had happened only gave her more confusion.

Spock brought her to Sorrm and the other Vulcans and set her carefully down before them.

"This is the race you remember?" he said to an older warrior, one who Jilla had not seen before.

"Yes, Great-son of Scarn. They were most intransigent. The battle was fought hard and well. We did honor to their fallen, and their survivors were destroyed with mercy. There was no other course for such a fierce opponent."

"Well, Lord Prophet?" Spock stated, almost insolently.

"All were destroyed?" Sorrm asked of the old warrior.

"All, my lord. One cannot leave an enemy injured only."

Sorrm swore vehemently, turning away from the warriors.

"Great-son of Scarn," one of the other Vulcans began, "it was for this purpose the woman was held in esteem?"

Spock nodded. "Her race breeds well and true to Vulcan." His hand pulled back her hair with casual roughness. "Our medicines give her the drives of The Time."

Questioning glances were exchanged between the warriors.

“He refers to pon farr,” Sorrm put in with a snarl.

“Of course,” Spock deferred.

Jilla blanched in horror. How could he do this? Had he not sought to protect her from Vulcan before.... Aema, but that was before!

There were murmurs of surprise and wonder from the warriors, followed by an eager curiosity that seared into Jilla’s soul.

"A woman in the blood fever?!"

"Fathers, what fire!"

"A prize to fight for indeed!"

"Lord Prophet, you must allow a Challenge!"

Jilla gasped with the strength of the greed pounding into her. She tried to curl into a ball in a futile attempt to block the horrible sensations beating at her. Spock's hands restrained her, holding her almost as if he were showing her like some prize at an auction.

"No," one of the warriors protested. "She cannot belong to but one! I desire the woman!"

"And I!"

"I, too, would have her, Lord Prophet!"

"Make the woman available, Lord! To taste such heat..."

"Kroykah!" Spock thundered. "There would have been more than enough to fulfill us all. Now this one is Lord Sorrm's province."

"No!" Jilla cried, her mind aflame with the heated desire surrounding her. Sulu's fear and possessiveness tore at her with her own terror. "Spock, you cannot... I am Sulu's, you know I can accept no other... please, I beg you...!"

"Silence!" Spock roared. As her sensitivity demanded, as the discipline of a Vulcan's wife required, Jilla fell silent. Her thoughts twisted with fevered horror, until she heard, dimly but distinctly within her mind, Trust, little one. As kindred, trust.

"Spock!" Sorrm called. Spock turned and walked away from Jilla’s now hesitant gaze. Sorrm's face was grim, but his eyes held a gleam. He spoke quietly. "Spock, I've memorized enough of Selar's work to deal with Indiians, but not enough to be able to modify his technique for other races. Have you...?"

"I am not a biochemist," Spock replied. It was, after all, the truth, though it hid the correct answer to Sorrm's question.

"Damn!" Sorrm paused, then smiled, though it was a bit sour. "Well, Vulcan is vital enough. It would have been insurance and added more glory to my prophecy..." His smile turned proprietary. "...but it does free little Jilla from..."

"She is bonded, Lord Prophet," Spock reminded.

"To property, Spock? To a Terran? How can a warrior acknowledge such an absurdity?"

“Agreed,” Spock again demurred. “But… to simply allow her to be taken at will… while it is true that we cannot acknowledge the bond, it is also true that one exists. To make her a’aroun would destroy her. She will need the strength of one mind controlling her.” Spock silently begged Jilla’s pardon, and Sulu’s. “You must order a Challenge.”

Sorrm gazed closely at him. "Do you want her, too?"

Spock glanced back at her. "I have tasted her fire, Sorrm," he said in a low voice. Another truth to cover another answer.

Sorrm grinned. "So you have. Will you share her with me if I allow you to Challenge? The Prophet deserves some privileges, doesn't he?" He laughed.

Spock thought quickly. He had to act if he was to spare Jilla the travesty that Sorrm intended. And he had to get Sorrm to allow the proper history to be restored or resign himself to a life of vicious charade. He had asked for trust, he could not fail. "Sorrm, wait!" he said, letting his voice rise excitedly. "The information we require is contained in the memory banks of the Enterprise. We need only retrieve it from the ship."

"Which is no more," Sorrm cut in derisively.

"But which could be again. And more, Lord Prophet. There is all the Federation's technology. It may not prove superior, but if so, command of it enhances your value to Vulcan. And..." Spock lowered his voice conspiratorially. "...there are over 400 beings who would be stranded, homeless, at Vulcan's whim. A varied enough breeding pool, Sorrm; one that does not need to be conquered. Would not your plan benefit from immediate implementation? Further, we would have their complete medical histories and so be better able to alter Selar's research with success." Silently Spock asked forgiveness of his crew. And once again thanked true Vulcan control for his ability to present such an obscenity as a rational prospect.

Sorrm's eyes studied him. He kept his expression open and guileless, excited at the plan he had outlined. "Am I to trust you, Spock?" Sorrm asked bluntly.

"You question a warrior's word, Lord Prophet?" Spock replied, his voice dark.

"You have been a warrior for minutes, Spock."

"Need I offer more proof than combat in Challenge and a proper claim?"

"You still uphold a worthless bond."

Spock nodded in acquiescence. "Old ways of thinking cannot be dispelled until they are acknowledged as old. I see that you are right, but my thoughts are not always so malleable." He paused. "I cannot alter my mind automatically. I would think that, if I could, such a complete conversion would be more suspect."

"Yet you are clever..."

"What would you have as surety, Sorrm?" Spock made his tone insulted.

"What could you give?"

"Beyond my word..." Spock's gaze lit upon the machinery of the Valjiir cloak. With lightning speed a plan formed in his mind. "Leave my kal'aroun here, and Lady - and Jilla if you wish. We need Sulu to ensure we reach the same time we left, but the women can remain."

"You would do that?" Sorrm asked, beginning to believe him.

"Why not? We will return, will we not?" Spock let his face darken, apparently suddenly. "But wait. If we leave them on the planet's surface time will not change for them and they, too, will be in the Federation - and my kal'aroun's mind unshackled."

"The Clan Leader can bring them to his ship until our return," Sorrm offered, again suspicious.

"Yes!" Spock exclaimed. "Excellent! And the cloaking device as well. It will be useful to Vulcan."

"Spock, I believe you mean this."

"It is well, Lord Prophet, for I do." Spock turned to head back toward the warriors, his satisfaction genuine for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Sulu's panicked fear had ebbed when he saw that Jilla was untouched. Still, the warriors studied her avidly, their voices greedy and speculative. The few words Sulu could catch were ones of fire and possession and mating hunger. It made his heart pound painfully. From their reactions, his inability to prevail in a challenge was a moot point: he obviously wouldn't be allowed to fight for her. He whispered her name and her eyes sought his. He held her gaze, trying to pour love and reassurance and comfort through his eyes. He felt her sense of danger and the call she tried to suppress for fear of his safety. There must be a way, he thought urgently. This can't happen; I can't let it happen!

Spock entered his line of vision, coming toward him. The Vulcan snapped a "Woman, come!" at Jilla as he passed her. Sulu swallowed, trying to meet Spock's gaze with something closer to a First Officer's respect than an inferior's fear and hatred, trying desperately to trust.

Spock motioned for Jilla to kneel beside the Valjiir cloak generator. He snapped "Kal'aroun!" at Ruth and pointed. Ruth warily moved next to Jilla. Sulu could see the same determination to trust him in her huge eyes. Then Spock spoke to him for the first time, barring one command to be silent, since their return to the Guardian planet.

"You will be unbound, Human, but you will remember you are now my property. Should your behavior shame me or my command, I will not hesitate to use proper discipline."

Spock's eyes burned into his own, and Sulu was certain there had been a subtle emphasis on the words 'my command.’ Aye, Captain, he thought, I'll try to follow orders you can't give.

Spock signaled and a warrior stepped forward, releasing Sulu. He moved his arms carefully, easing the stiffness to prevent his muscles from cramping, then stood and, watching Spock's eyes, walked to stand slightly behind the Vulcan. Spock spoke again to the warriors, in Vulcan, then again in Anglo-Terran to Sulu.

"We are returning to our past and future to secure certain knowledge from the Enterprise. We will be returning here and you will remember your station. Any disobedience will be punished, and any attempt at interference." He didn't wait for a response and Sulu didn't give one. Sorrm joined them and they stepped toward the Guardian portal. Sulu quickly tried to calculate Spock's strategy. To return to the Enterprise made clear sense. To leave Jilla and Ruth on the planet would ensure that they returned as well. How he got Sorrm to buy it wasn't important. But if the warriors were still on the planet's surface, they'd be there, too. Perhaps Spock thought that with the ability to contact the Enterprise, the five of them could be handled before they killed anyone.

His train of thought was interrupted by Sorrm's voice saying, "My insurance, Spock."

Spock nearly snarled at him in response. "Since you require it, Lord Prophet." He gestured. One of the warriors pressed a button on a device he pulled from his arm cuff and began speaking into it. Sorrm smiled, clapping Spock on the shoulder and turned to the portal.

For one terrible instant Sulu believed Spock's conversion to be real. Or perhaps Ruth and Jilla seemed not too high a price to pay to restore... No, that’s done with! Captain Bastard is gone. Spock wouldn't do that again.

Then, just before the hum of a transporter began, he saw Jilla's hand move, touching the cloak generator, unobtrusively adjusting dials and power grids. He smiled, and caught Ruth's answering grin. Spock gave him a slight nudge.

He jumped through the portal secure in the knowledge that while the Vulcans had returned to their ship, Valjiir was safely held in their own cloak.

"We've got another few minutes," Sorrm said. "Keep your voices low. The great Surak meditates about ten meters from here." He settled down into the sand and leaned against the rocky, striated canyon wall.

Sulu glanced around. They had come out of the portal and gone immediately to the canyon of Mah-nor-fen. He was somewhat confused as to why they were here. He had assumed they would immediately use the portal again to return to the righted future.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked.

Sorrm grinned. "Me, of course."

Sulu frowned. "Make sense, Sorrm."

The Vulcan's face darkened. "Your pet wants manners, brother," he said to Spock.

Sulu shuddered at the word, but Spock barely glanced at him. "Apologize," he said off-handedly, clearly expecting obedience.

Sulu grit his teeth. Play along, he told himself, for everyone's sake. "I ask forgiveness, Lord Prophet."

"He learns quickly," Sorrm noted.

"Of course," was Spock's comment. "He knows my discipline. Do you not, Human?"

Sulu swallowed. "Yes, Lord."

Spock nodded slightly, his dark eyes asking pardon. It eased Sulu's anger and he relaxed.

"You are certain," Spock began again, "that your earlier self will approach this spot?"

"Yes, quite. It was only hours ago - 5000 years ago," Sorrm replied, laughing.

"And you will be able to convince yourself not to kill Surak - at least not this time?"

"Either that, or we can kill me." Again Sorrm laughed. "I'll give up one possible life for Vulcan's future."

"As would any true Vulcan," Spock returned, then fell silent. Sulu kept his smile to himself, realizing that Spock had neatly arranged to answer his First Officer's question.

Sulu found himself marveling at Spock's control. Not only was he playing madman to perfection, but he was thirty feet away from Surak. Surak, the greatest of all Vulcans and Spock could not speak to him. The shade Spock had once met had been created from his own ideal. What would the real Surak be like? What insights could be gained into the philosophy that now ruled all Vulcan? And how, Sulu wondered, can Spock stand it? Even to preserve history, he couldn't be at all sure, if the opportunity arose, that he wouldn't have to talk to Takeda Shingen or Tokugawa Ieyasu if they were within such a short distance.

Moments later, Sulu heard the roar of the approaching sandstorm. Shouting voices echoed dully off the canyon walls. Then the storm was overhead and the earlier Sorrm was making his way through the swirls and eddies of sand in the ravine. The Lord Prophet stepped away from the gully wall and spoke in rapid Vulcan. Sorrm's eyes flashed in amazement over Spock, and his face hardened.

"Fool, you've let Vulcan's glory blind your judgment! Don't stop me, this is our only chance!"

"It has been done..." the Lord Prophet intoned.

"And you would undo it?!"

"We forgot Indi's Empire! Vulcan destroyed them!"

"It is a minor point. Surak's death is all that matters."

"But to have it all - "

"To risk it all? No, I will not..."

"Enough!" the Lord Prophet thundered. His ahn-woon was whipped around Sorrm's neck. There was a brief, fierce struggle, and Sorrm soon lay dead at his latter self's feet. The Lord Prophet reached into his former self's tunic and pulled out a rolled hide parchment.

"My prophecy," he explained. Then he pulled the lifeless body far into the canyon. They watched as the sand filled the ravine, covering the earlier Sorrm completely.

Spock was coldly silent, grieving even for this false death, Sulu knew. He himself concentrated on stopping his nausea. Strangulation was a particularly ugly way to die.

The storm passed. Sorrm jauntily led the way up the overhang and back to the portal, completely ignoring the shades of Captain Spock and Commander Sulu digging through the sand at the other end of the ravine. He spoke quietly and Sulu took a deep breath, ready to return home.

Jilla and Ruth watched the Vulcan warriors disappearing in the transporter beam and Spock and Sulu vanishing into the Guardian portal. Ruth sighed deeply as the punishing constriction left her head. She closed her eyes, healing the ugly brand, then smiled as Jilla turned off the Valjiir cloak.

"First things first," she said, and briefly touched Jilla's face, healing the bruise left there by the Vulcan's slap. Jilla nodded quiet thanks.

Ruth took out her communicator. "Enterprise?" she said. "Scotty?"

"Aye, lass, I said ten kilometers is a go."

Ruth let out a whoop of joy and Jilla joined her in a laughing bear-hug.

"Will ye be goin' on?" Scott's voice said, somewhat puzzled.

"Not yet, Scotty," Ruth managed. "Give us a minute." She closed her communicator. "It worked!"

"Of course," Jilla replied.

"Don't you 'of course' me, Majiir. You were scared too!"

"Only until Spock told the warriors we would beam up with the cloak generator."

"You were sure the transporter beam wouldn't..."

"With nothing for sensors to lock on to..."

"Of course."

"As I said."

They hugged again, then Ruth took a deep breath. "How did you stand understanding all that?"

Jilla shook her head. "I did not. Emotional overload."

"Yeah." Ruth rubbed her chest. "Ouch." She paused, then asked, "Was it really that bad?"

"According to Vulcan history, worse," Jilla replied. "Vulcans fought among themselves with that savagery. They had no outside, unifying goal."

"If they had - I mean besides galactic conquest..."

"Nothing less could have unified them."

"Surak's way really was the only choice," Ruth murmured thoughtfully.

Jilla smiled and nodded.

After a moment's silence, Ruth said, "Well, let's finish our tests." They turned to take their positions and the Guardian spoke.

"The travelers return."

Both faced the portal. Colar and Terrence stepped through. Terrence immediately began talking, but Colar shimmered in obvious distress. Lieutenant Commander Valley, what is amiss?

Ruth smiled wanly and explained in rapid telepathic images. Colar's answering thoughts were understanding and tinged with an odd determination. I will await Captain Spock's return, he thought decisively.

Then? Ruth asked.

Then we shall see.

The rest of the historians returned to the Guardian planet within minutes. Ruth simply had them beam back to the Enterprise. Colar had been the only one to notice anything wrong and so was the only one to receive an explanation. Jilla was becoming increasingly agitated at what seemed like an endless delay of Spock and Sulu's return. Ruth had told Jilla that there would have to be some delicate maneuvering to un-kill Surak, which would necessarily complicate matters - but it eased the Indiian's fears as much as it eased her own when she told herself the same thing.

The Guardian spoke again. "Finally!" Ruth sighed and tensed, noticing Jilla was quite pale.

Spock and Sulu and Sorrm appeared from the portal.

Ruth tried to gather herself to hold Sorrm, and Colar's thoughts filled her mind.

No reason for such violence, Lieutenant Commander, he said, and began turning a deep, emerald green.

The first thing Sorrm saw was Ruth. Furious betrayal seared his mind and he whirled, his rage a tangible force, turning his telepathy on Spock.

"Traitor!" he cried hoarsely. "False warrior, you break all Tradition!"

"That is my destiny," Spock replied calmly, yet Sorrm could already feel the hastily erected shield crumbling before the mental onslaught.

"At least I will destroy you!" Sorrm snarled. He fed his fury with all the power his trained mind possessed.

It took Sulu only seconds to recognize the feel of the bond - intact and unmarred. Jilla was alright! But he took no time to answer her unspoken call, turning his attention on preparing an attack. He couldn't hope to match Sorrm’s strength, but as Spock had said - was it only hours ago? - his martial skills didn't depend on superior strength. He ignored Sorrm’s angry words and started to launch himself at the Vulcan's midsection, aiming one rigid hand at the bastard’s groin, the other at the four-chambered heart.

But before he could move, his mind was filled with almost unbearable sweetness. Peace and understanding descended on him and he couldn't bring himself to attack Sorrm.

Then he realized that Sorrm’s face was no longer contorted with rage. He, too, seemed immobilized by an aura of gentleness. Sulu blinked in surprise and Spock said, very gently, "Come, Sorrm. The game is over."

Sorrm nodded and Colar's mind-voice said, I will accompany him, with your permission, Captain.

"Of course, Colar. Vulcan thanks you," Spock replied.

How could I let violence triumph? Would that not have mocked Surak worse than he? Colar returned simply.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, and opened his communicator.

Sulu walked over to Jilla, enfolding her in his arms as transporter shimmer took Sorrm and Colar. Abruptly the peace left him and he exhaled to control the sudden adrenalin rush.

"Ruth, what was that?" Sulu asked.

"Beats me. I was about to give the bastard an old Antari remedy for insanity," Ruth returned.

Sulu grinned. "A mental punch in the mouth."

Ruth showed her teeth. "Considerably lower."

"Great minds think alike," Sulu observed. Then he smiled again as Spock stepped up to Ruth, his hand out to her.

"My wife, forgive me."

Ruth gave him a quick, fierce embrace. "Just promise you won't ever take me to Pre-Surakian Vulcan on vacation."

"It is not a likely occurrence."

"Captain, what was... whatever that was?" Sulu asked.

"Colar," Spock replied. "The Metring are capable of emanating emotion directly to the receptors in the brain."

"And their telepathy is multiply directed," Ruth added in sudden understanding.

"It would have been possible to subdue Sorrm with force..." Spock rejoined.

"But Colar's way honored Vulcan." Sulu nodded. "I understand. After what you'd been through it wouldn't've been easy." He paused, remembering the look on Spock's face when he had returned from observing Vulcan's past. "Or maybe too easy." Spock said nothing.

"Ruth?" Jilla's voice interrupted. Ruth turned her head. "If I may ask... Sulu's shoulder...?"

“It’ll heal, hon,” Sulu broke in quickly.

Spock's eyes darkened. "I regret..." he began.

"Understood, Captain," Sulu broke in. "I consider it in the line of duty."

"I do not. Forgive me, Sulu."

It was very difficult for Sulu to meet the emotion in Spock's eyes, but he did, and nodded.

“And just how are you gonna explain it, Roy?” Ruth demanded.

“No one’s gonna see it,” Sulu returned stubbornly.

“Oh really? Let me see, does anyone have a sewing kit?” Ruth asked, making reference to Sulu’s torn tunic.

“Yours isn’t in pristine condition either,” the helmsman pointed out.

“Sulu…”

“Commander, while I understand your reluctance,” Spock began, “and while I cannot order such a thing, the – reminder – is acutely unpleasant.”

“And I wish it gone,” Jilla rejoined with a shudder.

Sulu stared at her grey eyes. You know why I can’t.

“Please,” the Indiian murmured. “For me.”

Sulu swallowed, then turned to Ruth. “How intimate does this have to be?” he asked hoarsely.

Ruth flushed. “I have to become your nervous system in order to…”

“How much do you have to know?” he clarified.

“You mean – about…”

“Me, my memories, my thoughts.”

“Well…” Ruth hesitated. “Technically all of it, but…”

“What do you mean, ‘technically’?”

She sighed. “I mean I don’t have to be conscious of it.” She paused. “But no one’s ever objected…”

“It’s not that I object, Ruth,” Sulu broke in softly. “It’s just…” He swallowed again. I’m ashamed. I don’t want you to know. I don’t want you to see…

Ruth’s mental voice startled him. Roy, what is there that you didn’t tell me after LiLing? What didn't I know after Kostas?

Images came swiftly into Sulu’s mind, of Rio de Janeiro and Cal’s penthouse, the Upstairs rooms and Cal’s private apartments. He shuddered and shied away from the memories as Ruth absorbed them. No, don’t see, don’t know! he cried.

You were Cal’s lover? Ruth stammered.

I didn’t know he was the Hunter!

Her shock faded at the grief and anguish in his mind. Of course you didn’t, Roy, she soothed, and whatever you did with him... it was all consenting. It doesn’t matter. There was a pause. What else?

God, Ruth, can’t you just…!

Roy, let’s just get this done, okay? For Jilla?

Sulu closed his eyes and let the darker images flow from him. Ruth recoiled with renewed shock, a healer’s revulsion, and more than a little fear, and he battled his worthlessness and the self-loathing. But stronger was the wordless cry, don’t turn from me, don’t hate me, don’t leave me!

In dark sorrow, they gaze down into the darkest heart
If I leave you, you say not even you can tear us apart.
Say you’re leavin’, you say you don’t even know how to start
Well, believe it then and don’t blame it on my soul
Blame it on my wild heart…

Gently, finally, understanding and acceptance flowed to his mind from Ruth’s. So you’re perverted, her mental voice joked warmly. I still love you.

You see... you know...?

You remember that ‘never more than half’ bit? She suddenly leaned forward, whispering in his ear as she touched his shoulder. “I lied.”

There were tears in Sulu’s eyes as he took a deep breath, and Ruth healed the still stinging brand.

After a moment to recover herself, Ruth turned again to Jilla. "Let's get the testing done so we can get out of here."

Jilla nodded and stepped back toward the generator. Spock again opened his communicator.

"Report when the cloak is in full operation," he said, then ordered beam-up for himself and Sulu.

Sorrm was in the brig, contentedly conversing with Colar. After checking on him, Spock went to his cabin, asking Sulu to accompany him. He sat at his desk, gesturing for Sulu also to sit. He steepled his fingers, silently regarding his First Officer.

"We have," he said at last, "a dilemma."

"Sorrm?" Sulu questioned.

Spock shook his head. "His condition is beyond our aid. I speak of the Klingons."

"Won't the Valjiir cloak take care of that?"

"That is Starfleet's hope. Yet if they did learn how to use the Guardian, it is certain they would bend all their effort to discovering a way to circumvent Valjiir's efficiency."

"'Military secrets are the most fleeting of all,’" Sulu quoted, then let out a low whistle. "What do you suggest, Captain?"

"We must prevent the Klingons from learning how to use the Guardian."

Spock watched as the question formed in Sulu's eyes, then saw also the realization of the only answer. "Change history? Captain...how...?"

"It is, of course, my decision and my responsibility. I will use the Guardian to return and warn our outpost here."

"Excuse me, sir," Sulu broke in, "even with warning, the security force here isn't equipped to withstand an attack from..."

"Agreed. However, we have evidence that the cloak of the Klingon scout is faulty. If our outpost is aware of this, they can prepare to transport to the scout's engineering section and disable the ship. There will be a diplomatic protest, of course, but the gain to us makes that of little consequence."

"Captain, we can't be sure of the cloak's instability. That may have been deliberate. Or, if you'll pardon the expression, human error."

"A calculated risk," Spock agreed, "but our only option."

Sulu was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was low. "Spock, to interfere this way... I know the gains are worthwhile, but..."

"The lives of the security force will be saved, the sanity of the outpost's scientists preserved, the safety of the Federation guaranteed."

"And we go through Sorrm’s nightmare again?"

"Not necessarily, my friend. If Colar holds Sorrm on the surface with us, history will not alter for us. We will be aware of all that has transpired, though no one else will."

Sulu's gaze searched Spock's. "If you're asking for my approval..."

"My decision and responsibility, Commander," Spock broke in.

"...you've got it, sir," Sulu finished. Then he smiled and stood. "Valjiir's tests should be complete." He turned as Spock rose from his chair. "Spock, what did you mean when you told Sorrm it was your destiny?"

Spock controlled a flush. "In Vulcan, my name means one who will break traditions and forge new dynasties."

"Ah," Sulu replied, "so..."

"Wakarimasu," Spock supplied.

Sulu grinned again, then halted and faced the Vulcan. "Thank you for the confidence, Captain."

"And you for your unwavering support, Commander."

Sulu met his gaze. "You've earned it," he said.

The Valjiir cloak was successful. Spock's brief return to the past proved equally successful. The Klingon scout was captured with a bonus; a working mindsifter; with no loss of life or sanity at the Federation outpost. No Klingon lives were lost, either, due to the efficiency of the security force - and Captain Spock's admonishment against unnecessary violence. That last fact had not been reported to the Federation, as Captain Spock's 'visit’ was placed under the strictest security classification for Guardian information. For his part, Spock hoped the Silmarils would be pleased.

Colar agreed to accompany Sorrm to Vulcan where his condition could be evaluated. Spock prepared a report on his observations of Pre-Reform Vulcan but decided to leave aside any speculation on the change of history. Each Vulcan should evaluate Surak's truths on a personal level. That, after all, was the purpose of the kahs-wan.

It had been a week since the Enterprise had left the Guardian. A Federation Medical Transport shuttle had that morning rendezvoused with the Enterprise to take Sorrm and Colar to a Vulcan observation facility. Tara Ryan had filed charges of assault against Sorrm, but Jilla had declined to do the same. Spock understood her reasons, though he did not agree with them: she wished to call as little attention to herself as possible where legalities were concerned; and Indiians had difficulty in accepting the concept of telepathic assault. To them, their vulnerability was the result of their own sensitivity and should not be imposed on another being's abilities. Colar had assured him that it was no strain to keep Sorrm peaceful and cooperative, and that, in fact, the Vulcan was a very interesting conversationalist - as long as one remembered that his ideas could be quite infectious if one forgot to guard one's mind from his assaults. Sorrm's rational insanity had disturbed Spock and he was willing to admit that he was relieved to have the madman in other custody.

Alone in his cabin, Spock cleared his mind, preparing to at last assimilate Vulcan's past for himself. Ruth was still busy with coordinating the data from the Guardian. He began the first stages of lowering his mental barriers and the door chime sounded. He replaced his shields and called, "Come."

"I thought you'd like to see this right away. Captain," Sulu said. He placed a cassette on the desk.

Eyebrow rising, Spock inserted the cassette in his viewer. The screen resolved into a grim, angry Klingon face.

"Supreme Secretariate Elamas," the harsh voice growled. "The Klingon Empire protests the unwarranted seizure of one of our vessels. We are aware of your so-called Guardian and the power it represents. Our ship was on a mission of legitimate inquiry into the scope of this weapon and its potential for our utter destruction. The violent reception given us by your criminal security force does nothing to inspire our confidence in your possession of such a weapon. As you know by your pirating of our vessel, we have no interest in using this potential. The crew of the Kartian was under strict orders not to engage the Guardian. Unlike you Federates..." The Klingon face sneered, "...we do not enjoy hunting where there is no sport. We demand that the Federation cease all contact with this Guardian and dismantle its outpost. We demand the Kartian and her crew be returned immediately. We will accept no less."

The screen went blank. Spock looked up. Sulu was grinning. "Do we believe the part about their having no interest in the Guardian?"

"The orders were in the scout's log, Commander," Spock replied.

"But what's the Klingon definition of 'sport'?"

"A legitimate inquiry, my friend,” Spock said, deliberately repeating the words of the Klingon. “You find the protest amusing?"

"After a cloaked ship violating Federation space got caught with its pants down, yes."

"Yet such is the way of diplomats."

"Thank god it's not ours. Goodnight, sir."

Sulu left the cabin and Spock allowed himself a fond smile.

Indeed, Sulu, he thought. Indeed.

The End