A Little Bitty Bit Of Treachery

Jilla had been aware of the insistent, repeated signal from the comm unit on the desk for some time, but as Spock did not rise to answer it, it was not her place to bring it to his attention. He had taken her not with the fire and carnality of his words, but with cold, almost reluctant dispassion. She did not understand the confusion in his tia, nor the mixed messages he conveyed to her. Nor why the captain of the Enterprise would ignore what was obviously a communication of clear importance.

She lay beside him, a silent shadow, neither avoiding nor initiating physical contact. That was not proper for a kal'aroun, she knew, but he did not require a proper kal'aroun. And as she didn't know what he did require, all she could do was wait - as she waited every evening.

Eventually he rose, taking his mediation robe from the closet. He walked to his desk and picked up her green shift from the deck where he had left it after pulling it off of her. He held it out to her and she, too, rose from the bed moving to his side to retrieve it. As she slipped it on, Spock thumbed the switch on the intercom.

"What is it, Miss Uhura," he said as if he had not been ignoring the call for the better part of the evening.

"Captain, are you all right?" the Communications Officer said. "I've been trying to reach you for..."

"Yes, what is it?" Spock repeated, interrupting her.

"I have to report... that is, we've received a report from the Betaran authorities..."

A sharp spike of anticipation rose within Spock's being, and Jilla shuddered. Had he conceived another plan of entrapment, this time with Sulu as the bait?

"... Ruth - Commander Valley has apparently taken Mr. DelMonde from the medical facility. They're both AWOL, sir."

The anticipation turned abruptly to dread.. "Say again, Miss Uhura," he said.

Jilla stifled a gasp when, as Uhura repeated the shocking news, Spock's tia became filled with grief and loss and a terrible regret.

"Find them," was all the Vulcan said, then he turned to Jilla. She could feel his attempt to pull his emotions around him, to hide them from her, but her face showed too much.

"I have no further need of you tonight..." he began.

"Was she wrong?" Jilla whispered.

"I..."

"She thinks you no longer love her," the Indiian continued. "Spock, was she wrong?"

She noted that he did not change expression at her use of his name rather than either his rank or, as had become usual in his cabin, Tra'feean.

"It is not your place to..." he began again, and was interrupted by a signal at the door. He pointed to the bed, and Jilla went to it, kneeling beside it so that she could not be seen as he opened the door.

She recognized the voice of Transporter Chief Kyle, though she couldn't make out what he was saying. The door closed again and Spock turned. In his hands was a box approximately thirty centimeters on a side. Something about it made the breath catch in Jilla's throat and she was on her feet, moving toward Spock as he opened it.

Spock waited for the door to close before opening the box Kyle had given him. It was sent up from Eastport, the tall Human had said, and for the moment, Spock forgot that Jilla was still in the cabin. As he held the container, working the latch, he was filled with a cold dread. He could not begin to imagine what was inside it, but whatever it turned out to be, he would be responsible.

The catch sprang easily. A too-familiar scent rose from the box and anguish screamed into his being. He had to force himself to look, force himself to breathe and swallow. A groan of pure agony escaped his lips and the box clattered to the deck as he fell to his knees. Shaking hands clutched at the coils of hair and his sobs were deep and pain-wracked. Ruth, my dei’larr’ei, who would do this to you? My fathers, what is this, what does it mean? He trembled, bringing the sweet silk to his face, feeling its softness against his skin. Then his eyes focused on a symbol of metal that lay on the deck next to the box. His numbed mind struggled to identify it. Alien. Enemy. Klingon. Organia, an officer behind a desk. Canti and a vicious torturer. Jim's voice and an impatient, angry face... and on the chest-strap of the uniform....

Kor.

"Spock, what does this mean?!"

Jilla's voice startled him. Her eyes were filled with all he felt, her skin glowing with unbridled emotion. "Rilain, I..." he began hoarsely.

Then he was in her arms, her tears sliding down her cheeks. "It does not matter now," she whispered to him, her voice rough with sorrow. "You love her still. Go to her, Spock. Prove it to her. You can explain what you will once Ruth is safe."

He raised his head, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "Forgive me," he managed.

She nodded. "Go," was all she said.

As he dressed, he was aware that Jilla replaced the golden tendrils of Ruth's hair into the box and rose, placing it on his desk. His eyes closed and he set his face in grim determination. Kor had Ruth. And now, Spock thought with calm fury, I will have Kor.

Adrenaline fueled and quickened Ruth's abilities. A glance at her restraints snapped them and she was on her feet, rushing toward Del and the Klingons that surrounded him. The force of her mind pushed them aside and she prepared to melt the mindsifter into slag.

Then her brain screamed in agony, her momentary power boost dissipating as her damaged neurons went into overload. She blinked - she could have sworn it was only a blink - and when her eyesight focused again, Kor held a very sharp blade to Del's throat.

"Settle down, Miss Valley," the Klingon said pleasantly.

She felt herself being pulled back to her chair and struggled ineffectually, her being too weakened to do more.

"You turn that on," she managed, "and when I'm done with you...."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Kor sighed. "We've seen quite clearly what your limitations are."

"For now, Klingon," Ruth swore. "Remember that. For now."

Kor mulled this over, then smiled. "Well, I'm a fair man, Ruth," he said. "I'll make you an offer. I'll give you the opportunity to answer every question I put to Mr. DelMonde. If I find your answers satisfactory, there will be no need for the mindsifter. That's just, is it not?"

She glanced at Del's eyes. You not do that, cher, whispered in her mind. Even that slight touch made her wince, but she lifted her chin.

"Go to hell, Klingon," she said.

Kor smiled again. "Your choice, Miss Valley."

As he turned to DelMonde, she could hear, faintly, one an' one is two, two an' two is four, t'was brillig an' th' slithy toves, hush li'l baby, don' say a word, mama gonna buy you a mockin'bird....

Dr. McCoy had the ingenious idea of using his medical tricorder to pinpoint the only Antari lifeform in the city of Eastport. Of course, it only showed Ruth's direction, not a path to take through the winding streets of the city. Sulu seemed to have some kind of intuitive sense that was guiding them through the twists and turns. They ran into a few dead-ends where alleyways cut across their path, but Sulu always found a way around the obstacles - even if that sometimes meant climbing over fences and garbage receptacles. He also seemed to know when to plot a course that seemed at odds with the tricorder's reading but always led to a path closer to the endpoint.

When they were within 50 feet of the signals' origination, Sulu stopped and motioned McCoy behind him. Across the wide boulevard in front of them was a small, nondescript building - except for the fact that it was surrounded by Klingon soldiers in full battle gear.

"Looks like that's the place, son," the doctor commented wryly.

Sulu took out his communicator. "Sulu to Enterprise," he said, his voice soft. "Uhura, patch me to Engineering." After a moment, when Montgomery Scott's heavy voice answered, Sulu said, "Scotty, we've got a fix on Ruth Valley. DelMonde's likely with her. Can you lock a transporter on her signal?"

After another seemingly interminable moment, Scott replied, "There's some kind of shielding around that location, lad."

Shit!" Sulu swore. "The place is swarming with Klingons. We've only got two hand phasers. Can you beam down any other weapons or power packs?"

"I'll need the Captain's authorization for that," was the tight response.

"Yeah. Shit," Sulu repeated. He closed his communicator and eyed their opponents, drawing his phaser.

"Son, you can't be serious," McCoy said. "Not to sound like I'm imitatin' our captain, but I estimate the odds of our gettin' through that alive are halfway between zero and none."

Sulu's face was set in grim determination. "Well," he commented in a voice so deadpan it also could've come from their Vulcan captain, "going AWOL and running away from the Federation was probably gonna get boring fast anyway."

He knelt down and took careful aim, ready to take as many of the bastards out before having to cross that wide open space as he possibly could.

The blue snowman that he and his mother had created was melting rapidly. Not gently, in little drips and trickles of moisture, but in great calving sheets, like a glacier undergoing massive, sudden warming. The training in resisting interrogation that all Starfleet officers underwent had deserted him - it seemed like hours ago - but that didn't really matter much, because coherent language had deserted him at about the same time. He could feel Ruth crying, hear her desperately pleading voice in his head, but he was unable to reach out to her, to comfort her grief. His mouth wouldn't obey his commands - he suspected he was drooling - and his brain was almost too withered to send her his thoughts.

“Let him go, you monster!” he heard her screaming, then Kor's obscene chuckle.

“Ready to take his place?”

He gathered every bit of strength he had, knowing it would be the last thing he ever did. He managed to make the sound come out of his mouth.

"NO!"

"Del, you’ll die!" Ruth shouted, agony coloring every syllable.

Honey, I already gone, he told her and refused to let the weariness of his soul coil around her. Jus' let this mean ol' dog shake my bones 'til he tires hisself out. It all I got left t' give you.

Ruth could no longer bear it. She couldn't just let Del die for her, not after he'd awakened abilities neither of them knew he possessed in order to save her. But we was so weak, fading so far away from her...

She swiftly thought of a desperate plan, one that was so reckless it could have come from the man she was trying to save.

"All right, you bastard," Ruth hissed at the Klingon. "You've destroyed him. There's nothing left. So now I guess it's my turn."

"The Federation has always impressed me with its gallantry," the Klingon commented, and the men around him chuckled. "And, of course, you've displayed that particular quality before." He motioned to the guards, who unceremoniously pushed Del from his chair, ripping the mindsifter from his head, bringing a good deal of his hair with it. "But as you said, I’m afraid there’s little left of your friend worth saving."

Once again Ruth pushed with her mind, tossing the guard who held the mindsifter away from her.

"More than enough!" she snarled triumphantly. She moved forward with lightning speed, wrapping her arms around Del's chest, pulling him to her.

Zehara, help me! she begged, and drew Del's mind to hers, ordering herself into the same healing coma that had kept her alive after he had pulled the sauvrn from her.

"Stop her, fools!" Kor ordered.

She felt his men grabbing her. She felt the mindsifter being placed on her head. But with she and Del telepathically linked, with her at the end of her reserves and his so severley damaged, there was only one reaction possible.

They both begin to scream.

It seemed to Sulu that the moment he dropped one Klingon, two more appeared from inside or around the building. There was an impressive pile of bodies building up but he couldn't afford to take the time to congratulate himself. The Klingons weren't charging his position, but he wasn't really making any headway either.

Maybe that's because they know my weapon's only on stun, he mused bitterly. It was galling not to be able to blast the fuckers into dust, but he had to be mindful of Betara's neutral status.

"And the fact that there about a thousand more of them in Eastport," had been Dr. McCoy's grim response when Sulu had complained about it.

Yeah. There is that.

McCoy was surprisingly accurate with his phaser. "Every good Southern boy knows how to shoot," was his grinning reply when Sulu had commented on it.

"Del doesn't."

"Hell, son, that boy could just scare critters off with his foul temper."

Sulu found himself wishing he could have Del's foul temper beside him right now - not for any help the Cajun could give, just to know he was safe. Then he included Ruth in that thought, then Jilla, then - for reasons he couldn't quite explain to himself - Jeremy Paget.

Because he's good with a phaser, he told himself, and we could sure use the help.

Aim. Fire, Watch one slimy bastard drop. Watch two more take his place. And Sulu was running out of charges for his phaser.

The hopelessness was beginning to get to him when he heard the familiar whine of a transporter beam behind him.

"Much as I hate to admit it, son," he heard McCoy mutter, "our chances for survival have just doubled."

Tara Ryan, a full security team and the captain himself took positions beside Sulu.

"Your weapon is on stun, Mr. Sulu?" Spock said, making the question sound like the worst possible insinuation.

Sulu didn't answer. Instead he turned to McCoy. "Twice nothing is still nothing," was his grim response. But he took the fresh power pack Tara handed him and continued to add to the pile of Klingon bodies.

With six additional phasers they finally made their way past the fifty or so fallen Klingons into the building itself.

"Up," McCoy said, gesturing with his tricorder.

"Once we find them, we take as many prisoners as we can," Spock stated. At Sulu's incredulous stare, he added. "The Klingons may have information of importance to the Federation."

"And to hell with whatever they've done to Ruth and Del," Sulu muttered.

"Need I remind you," the captain returned, "Miss Valley and Mr. DelMonde are away without leave. We will be taking them prisoner as well."

"You can't forget the fucking mission for one fucking minute?" the First Officer seethed.

"Never," was Spock's calm response.

The battle to the top floor, where McCoy's tricorder said the Antari life form reading was, went much better than Sulu had anticipated. Must have sent all the guards out to stop us in the street, he mused, while his awareness remained on firing at every Klingon he encountered.

"In there!" McCoy said at last, and before Spock could order caution or diplomacy or some other bullshit Sulu put his shoulder into the door. He didn't know if it had been locked, but it burst open with a satisfying crash. He saw Ruth on the floor, Del cradled in her arms, the hateful mindsifting device strapped to her head. He saw four Klingon drawing their disruptors. And he saw a face that was familiar to him, one that seared his mind with memories of pain and terror and Jilla's screaming nightmares.

"Kor!" he hissed and his fingers altered the setting of his phaser of their own volition. He took aim, and felt Vulcan strength grasping his arm.

"No, Mr. Sulu," Spock ordered.

Sulu's weapon clattered to the floor as he whirled to face his captain with a disbelieving, incredulous stare.

But Spock wasn't looking at him. The Vulcan stared directly into Kor's eyes.

"You will drop your disruptor and order your men to do likewise," he said.

The next few seconds seemed to take forever.

Kor smiled.

"I have no disruptor, Captain," he said, and raised his hands as if to prove it.

But something gleamed in his grasp, and Sulu knew what it was before his mind could name it.

Kor began to draw his arm back.

Sulu calculated the trajectory and speed as well as his own position and level of adrenaline. He had a brief, intense argument with himself...

What the fuck are you doing?

My duty.

To that monster? Didn't you just mutiny?

I saved my wife.

And now you leave her to him?

What she's had to do will destroy her anyway.

You don't know that...

I wish to all the gods of the universe that I didn't.

.... that lasted only the millisecond it took for him to shout "Captain!" and throw himself between Spock and the knife that Kor hurled at the Vulcan.

On the Enterprise in the captain's cabin, Jilla let out a cry that was pure, desolate anguish. She clutched at her chest, gasping as she fell. She felt the life draining from her being, knowing - as she had not known when Selar had died - that it was also draining from Sulu on the planet below. As she called to Aema, readying herself for Judgment and Court, the only comfort she had was the sudden, surprising, but certain knowledge that she and Sulu were Bonded - and had been since the moment she'd awoken in his arms as he carried her from Spock's quarters so long ago.

Celletyea cortayel, my love, she whispered to him.

As her consciousness weakened, she heard a soft, warm voice in her mind:

Tsui ni yuku
Michi to wa kanete
Kikishi kado
Kino kyo wa
Omowazarishi wo

I have always known
That at last I would
Take this road, but yesterday
I did not know that it would be today.

The voice faded with one, final, I love you.

"Sulu!" McCoy shouted, and rushed to the fallen man's side.

"You won't get them back, Spock," Kor snapped. "Any of them."

The Security team immediately opened fire on the Klingons, but not before one of them turned his disruptor toward the couple that lay motionless on the floor.

A small, thin thread of consciousness came abruptly to Spock's awareness, a voice laden with emotion: anger, sorrow, loss, regret, release.

She never stop lovin' you an' I be damned if I know why. But she mean more to me than I mean to her so I do what she need an' let it break me at last.

As Spock watched, DelMonde's arm came up, grasping at Kor's leg, pulling the Klingon off balance and directly into the path of the weapon his subordinate had just fired. There was a soundless scream as Kor vaporized, then the Klingon who had fired fell as Tara Ryan's stun hit him.

Agony burned into Spock's heart, melting all the deception and feigned ice that had sustained him for so long. He swiftly knelt next to the woman who had once been his wife - such a short time ago! - ripping the mindsifter from her head.. He pulled her into his arms, heedless that DelMonde's lifeless figure simply rolled from hers.

"Ruth," he whispered hoarsely, "my dei'larr'ei, my beloved..."

The Antari's huge purple eyes opened slowly and she blinked at him.

He held her head with its shorn, ragged hair against his chest. "Forgive me," he sobbed, almost inaudibly, "forgive me..."

Her hand reached up to explore the skin of his cheek, as though she had never seen anything like it before.

McCoy aimed his tricorder at her, his manner making it plain that there was no need for him to continue to scan Sulu - or DelMonde.

"I’m afraid that’s all she’s going to be able to give you, Spock," he said quietly. The tone of his voice had a finality to it that forced tears into the Vulcan's eyes.

“My love,” Spock murmured, taking her hand from his face and kissing her fingers. “If only you could have trusted me a little longer.” He took in the unmoving bodies of Sulu and DelMonde. “If only they could have all trusted me just a little longer…”

McCoy rose, staring down at his captain. There was no pity or mercy in his gaze.

“Or if you had trusted any of us,” he said, “even a little.”