DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2001 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.

 

Souls in Velvet Night

 

by Djinn

 

 

 

Interlude I - Tragedy

 

Being dead, Christine thought idly as she watched Spock meditate, was a lot more boring than she would have imagined.  Killing herself really had been one of the stupider things she'd ever done...in this incarnation anyway.  She was starting to remember other lifetimes and other actions, some nearly as ill-conceived as the one that had landed her here.  Not that she was being punished.  She had elected to stay near Spock. And she'd had plenty of time to think about her suicide since she had first awakened to find her mother waiting for her.  Time was something she had in abundance in this in-between state she had chosen.

 

She watched as he rose and pulled off his robe, exchanging it for a uniform that he then inspected carefully.  It was immaculate and wrinkle-free.  For a moment, as he looked in the mirror, he seemed almost nervous.  Christine felt her interest perk up.  What could make Spock so concerned about his appearance?

 

A chime sounded and he schooled his features into their normal serene state.  "Come."

 

A woman walked in.  Young, lithe, vibrant, Vulcan.  Of course.  Valeris, Christine felt a surge of irritation.  Once a constant fixture in his life.  But less so since graduating from the Academy.  Her first assignments had kept her away from her sponsor, if that was how Valeris thought of Spock.  Christine had long suspected that the young woman wanted to be more to him than just a protégé. 

 

Christine moved closer to study this rival.  Valeris was pretty, in a stark sort of way.  But what was this?  Christine leaned in closer.  Not a smile, but her eyes seemed to twinkle.  She was clearly glad to see Spock. 

 

And he was very happy to see her.  Christine recognized the look on his face.  She had seen it often enough when he was with Kirk, or sometimes McCoy.  And later, after V-Ger, during their second five-year mission, she had seen it displayed for her.  But that was before he died.  And came back.  Before she died.  And didn't come back.  She wondered if he even thought of her at all anymore.  It had been...well it had been some time since she died.  She found it difficult to track the passing years. 

 

"Lieutenant Valeris."  His resonant voice filled the room.  "I am gratified to see you."

 

"Captain Spock.  I was most pleased to be invited to accompany you on your upcoming mission."

 

"We needed a helmsman and you were available.  A fortuitous coincidence of situation."

 

"Fortuitous indeed."  She moved closer to him, her voice dropped huskily.  "I have missed you, Sir."

 

She lacks subtlety, Christine thought sourly.

 

"As I have missed you, Lieutenant."  His face had not changed expression but Christine could tell he was pleased by the woman's admission.  He moved toward the door.  "We will not leave for some months.  We will have much time to get reacquainted, Valeris.  Now, it is time to report to work.  Will you walk with me?"

 

She followed him out with a slight smile.  Christine considered going after them but found the idea too depressing.  Maybe I should have listened to Mom.  Thoughts of Fiona filled her mind. 

 

"You can still come back with me, you know.  Anytime you want."  Her mother, called by Christine's thoughts of her, smiled in greeting as she pulled her daughter into a hug.

 

Christine felt the welcome snap of energy when her mother touched her.  Her rational self realized that the body Fiona used was only a construct, chosen because it was familiar and made Christine comfortable.  She knew that the touches she had come to love were really exchanges of energy not flesh and bone.  But it made her feel better now to hold on to what she knew and to accept what she felt at face value.  Truth was at times overrated.

 

"If Valeris stays around I may have to," Christine smiled.  "But it still feels right to be here."

 

"So you'll stay?"

 

"For now.  How is Dad?"

 

Fiona's face became softer as she thought of her soul mate.  "He's doing well.  We're working on our next life now.  Trying to find something a little less emotionally wracking." 

 

"I'm all for that."  Christine thought back to the first time Fiona had brought him around to see her.  He had elected to wear a body that bore no resemblance to the man who had sired her, but she had known him immediately anyway.  Phillip Chapel had held open his arms and said, "Where's my girl?"  She had happily fallen into them.  Since then he had come to visit her many times.  Unlike her mother, he never tried to convince her to come back to the fold.  She had asked him why once.

 

"You'll come home when you're ready.  Sometimes it takes a while especially after a traumatic end.  And I trust your judgment, kiddo.  If you think you need to stay with Spock, then stay with him."

 

She loved spending time with him, but she enjoyed even more watching Phillip and Fiona interact.  They had shed the angry passion that had so repelled her when she was alive.  They seemed somehow both serene and more animated than she had ever seen.  And their love for each other was clear.  Her mother had tried to explain it to her.

 

"When we're here, in our natural state, we just understand each other.  There isn't the confusion that reigns when we are incarnated.  We truly know each other.  Far more than we ever did when we were mortal.  You call us Phillip and Fiona in your mind as if that is who we really are, but they were just temporary roles.  We are so much more than that."  They even had different names, Rondo and Melissa, but she found she could not get used to calling them that.

 

"It doesn't matter," her mother allowed.  "You aren't really Christine either, but since you haven't come fully back it is still easy for you to identify with that persona.  When you join us you'll have no trouble remembering it all."

 

"Is that why I'm not as calm as you two?  Why I get annoyed or angry and sad?"

 

Fiona nodded.  "You still feel those things because you have not completely shed your last life.  But you will eventually.  And the longer you stay here, the less you'll be tied to Earth."

 

"So this woman," Christine focused for a moment and then they were in the conference room standing behind Valeris' chair, "won't bother me someday?"

 

Her mother laughed.  "That's right.  But I have a feeling it won't be anytime soon."  Her look became unfocused for a moment.  "That was Rondo.  I have to go.  We have to choose soon."

 

"Are you happy about going back?"

 

Fiona nodded.  "I want another chance.  So does he.  And we're willing to try it together again."  She suddenly laughed as her gaze again turned inward.  "I really have to go.  I love you, Christine."

 

"Love you too, Mother," she replied affectionately as her mother flashed away.

 

****************************

 

"Personal log," there was a long pause, "I must report that," again a pause, then his hand reached out to delete the entry.  He took several deep breaths.  He must find balance.  Had to control this dark emotions he felt inside. 

 

But they were so strong.  Hopelessness and fear.  Pain and grief.  Anger.  So much anger.  He had never felt such blackness threatening him before.  This was too much to bear.  Yet he must.  He owed her that. 

 

"Personal log.  After months of battling illness, my mother passed away yesterday on Vulcan."  There, much better.  Logical, precise, but not cold.  She would not want cold. 

 

Cold.  Was it cold where she was now?  Was it anything?  She was not Vulcan.  She had no Katra to place with the ancestors.  What became of a human when they died?  His mind flashed back.  To brown hair and blue eyes.  What had become of Christine when she had brought about her own death?  He remembered her better than he wished to. 

 

Remembered the few short months they had shared as lovers.  Before he left for the training cruise.  Before she thought he would never come back.  Before he did.  He tried to feel now the grief he should have felt then.  When McCoy had come to him.  Tired eyes pleading with him to show some emotion. "Spock.  It's terrible," his voice had broken, then he had fought for some semblance control, "Christine Chapel died today." 

 

Spock had not reacted.

 

"Maybe you weren't listening, Spock?  I said," McCoy's eyes had been angry, "that the woman who loved you killed yourself today."

 

He had looked at him dispassionately.  "I regret the loss of the life, Doctor.  I wish that I remembered her better."

 

"Damn your green Vulcan hide, Spock!"  McCoy let his emotions fly. 

 

Spock dimly recalled the doctor behaving this way in the past.  It was still so confusing.  "You were friends with her.  I grieve with thee."

 

"Grieve with yourself, you cold-blooded monster.  She wasn't my lover.  She was yours."  The doctor had stormed out.

 

McCoy had forgiven him eventually.  By that time, Spock could remember what had been lost.  It had hurt but in a more distant way.  Not with the immediacy of this.

 

The comm unit buzzed and he considered ignoring it.  It buzzed again.  He reached over and answered it, voice only.  "Spock here."

 

"Sir, I just heard.  Can I get you anything?"  Valeris' voice was rich with sympathy.

 

He wanted to ask her to come, wanted her with him.  But he did not wish her to see him in such a turbulent state.  "No ensign.  I would like to be alone."

 

Her voice showed no offense.  "Of course, Captain.  I grieve with thee."

 

"Thank you, Valeris." 

 

He reached over and cut the connection.  She was kind.  His mother would like her.. 

 

His mother.  His mind seemed to stall over those words.  Did he still have a mother?  She was gone.  No, that sounded as if she had just left for a trip.  His mother was dead.  She was dead.  Dead.  No katra.  Lost.  Never coming back.  Never.  And he had not been there.  Had not gone.  His thoughts whirled, a maelstrom of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.  He sat rigid in his chair, unmoving as he fought a silent battle with grief.

 

Grief won.

 

*******************************

 

Christine watched as Spock tried to complete his personal log.  She had taken to letting her attention drift away from him for long stretches of time.  When something interesting happened she focused on him, otherwise she allowed herself to delve into all the memories of her own lives that she was gaining access to.  But now, something was wrong.  She could feel his distress as if it were her own.  What has happened, she wondered.

 

Suddenly a figure appeared in the room.  It took Christine a moment to realize that the woman could see her.  And that she recognized her.  Amanda. 

 

"You're dead," she whispered.

 

The woman nodded.  She walked to Spock, put her arms around him, held him tightly.  Or tried to.

 

"He can't feel you.  Or see or hear you."

 

"But you can?"  Amanda frowned.  "Of course.  You died.  I remember now.  I'd forgotten so much at the end.  But now I remember."

 

Spock was just ending a call.  His pain radiated to Christine and she winced at a sensation she herself had ceased to experience directly. 

 

"He hurts."

 

Amanda's eyes were luminous with compassion.  "Yes."  She leaned in again as Spock broke down.

 

Christine watched for a moment.  The she allowed herself to drift, giving Amanda time with her son.

 

When she came back to the cabin, it was empty.  More time had passed than she realized.  She thought intently of Spock and found herself in a cemetery, standing next to him as the coffin was lowered into the ground.  His pain was still apparent to her, but he had it under much better control.  She looked around for Amanda but did not see her.  But on the other side of Spock stood Valeris.  Christine watched as the woman laid her hand on top of his for just a moment.  He looked at her and nodded.  "I grieve with thee," she whispered.  He only nodded as their eyes met and held.

 

He doesn't need me now, Christine realized.  She considered going to her mother, but something told her that she should not abandon Spock. 

 

Fine.  She wouldn't abandon him.  But she also wasn't going to watch the play by play of this courtship.  She laid her hands on his back, felt the resonance of his sadness.  This will draw me back, she thought.  If he feels this again, I will come back. 

 

With a final look at the couple, she flashed out.

 

 

 

 

 

Interlude II – Rage

 

Spock felt buoyed by a sense of hope he had not known for some time.  He had worked so long for this, struggled against those who would fight change.  Now it was finally happening.  He sat again on this ship, served again with this man he would die for, had died for.  And this time Valeris was at his side.

 

He could imagine her excitement as she piloted the ship out of spacedock.  He remembered the effect that Kirk had had on him when he was first exposed to him.  The man's charisma and unexpected innocence were a powerful combination.  He had often heard it said that Kirk was a Captain you would cheerfully follow into Hell...and back out again.  Because Kirk always brought them home.  Always.

 

Looking around at the familiar faces, Spock experienced a tug of nostalgia.  This was so like those times on the older version of this ship.  The one that Kirk had destroyed for him.  The same dear faces.  Or nearly the same.  Sulu was gone, lost to the siren call of his own ship.  He had taken Rand with him.  But Uhura and Chekov were on the bridge, Scott was back in engineering, and McCoy again ran sickbay.

 

Another name came to mind.  Christine.  He tried not to think of her often.  He saw no logic in it.  Yet her loss still haunted him.  He had loved her.  Not for very long it was true.  But for the time that she had allowed him in, he had been drawn to her in a way he would never have predicted.  He had always wondered how much more intense it would have become for them when they finally bonded.

 

But that had never happened.  Genesis and Khan had ripped them apart.  The refusion had left his memories confused.  He had not remembered her.  Not in time, anyway.  She had mixed a lethal dose of meds and put an end to a life that had already sustained too much damage.  She was gone.  Forever.  Yet at times, he could swear he felt her near.

 

He pulled his thoughts back to the present.  The ship was clear of spacedock and on her way to the rendezvous with the Klingons.  He turned to his station but not before indulging in another look at Valeris.  Her body, held so taut during the undocking, was relaxed now.  She seemed content to be here on this ship, with this crew...with him.  He was filled with satisfaction.  He had worked long and hard for it and now everything he wanted was finally coming to pass.

 

*********************

 

Christine was abruptly drawn back to Spock's side, called by the rage she felt within him.  They were on the bridge of the Enterprise.  What were they doing here?  And how long had she been away?

 

Valeris was there.  And she was clearly in trouble.  Standing alone in front of the viewscreen.  The other members of the bridge crew staring daggers at her.  She seemed to be defending herself for something.  What had Christine missed here, she wondered frantically?

 

Kirk asked tensely, "Who is *us*?"

 

She was calm.  "Everyone who stands to lose from peace."

 

He was impatient, "Names, Lieutenant."

 

She was the quintessential Vulcan.  "My comrades will make certain all your ship to shore transmissions are jammed."

 

"Names, Lieutenant!"  Kirk was getting angry.

 

"I do not…remember."  She turned her back on them all.

 

Spock's voice rang out.  "A lie?" 

 

She looked back at him.  "A choice."

 

Kirk said one word, "Spock."

 

And then Christine felt it.  The rage was exploding inside him.  He wanted to hurt this woman.  She jumped in front of him, intent on keeping him away from Valeris.  He walked right through her. 

 

"Spock, no..."  She screamed it. 

 

No one heard.

 

Then he was on the young Vulcan.  Pulling her to him when she sought to escape, forcing her to give up the names.  Christine had experienced his mind touch, it was formidable even at its most gentle.  What must this feel like to Valeris?  To have him tear through her that way?  She began to speak, his voice joining hers as they called out names.  Kirk wanted the location of a peace conference.  She resisted again.  Don't do it, Christine urged.  Just tell him what he wants. 

 

But she didn't.  And Spock seemed to go deeper.  It was clear he was hurting her.  There were tears.  Christine had never seen tears from a Vulcan, or heard one cry out that way.  She heard Uhura gasp.

 

Christine moved closer to Spock.  Tried to touch him.  Then pulled them back a bit when she couldn't.  She felt something.  There.  If she just held back a bit.  An energy field.  Around his body.  She could feel her own body respond.  She concentrated on him as she searched for the field with her other hand. 

 

*Spock.  This is wrong.  Stop this.  Don't hurt her anymore.  Stop this.*

 

He dropped his hands abruptly, severing the link. 

 

She breathed a sigh of relief.  Unsure if she had reached him or not. 

 

His voice was broken.  "She does not know."  Slowly he made his way up to where Kirk stood. 

 

They questioned Valeris a bit longer then security dragged her away.  Spock continued to work, to fight, for something that Christine didn't understand.  It had to do with Klingons, and with a conference.  She didn't really care.  All that mattered was inside of him.  She could feel his emotions.  Rage, disappointment, shame.  And these feelings didn't go away.  Not when they beamed down and prevented a murder.  Not when the mission was over and the Enterprise was on its way home.  Not when Valeris was removed from the ship.  He was a changed man.  Alone and in pain. 

 

Christine was afraid for him. 

 

And so was Kirk.  He came to him repeatedly.  Worried for his friend, feeling guilty himself.  Spock began to retreat from him.  Not physically, but emotionally.  This man he had followed into every danger became someone that he took pains to avoid. 

 

Kirk sought him out when the ship was near Spacedock.  "Spock?  Something is wrong between us and I want to put it right.  But I don't know what it is."

 

Spock said nothing.

 

"Please.  If I've offended you?"

 

"You could not offend me, Jim.  But I have offended all that is Vulcan.  What I did, on the bridge...it was wrong.  And it was at your behest.  Or so I tried to tell myself.  But it was also for myself.  Because I hated her.  Because she had betrayed me."

 

"Because you loved her?"

 

Spock nodded.  "I have become too human.  Too at ease with that part of myself.  I have allowed emotion to take hold of me.  It was acceptable for a time.  But now it is not.  I need time away."

 

Kirk seemed aghast.  "Not Gol again, Spock?  That isn't you."

 

"No, not Gol.  I would not be welcome there in any case.  I will find my own balance.  I will do it my own way."

 

"But, you'll stay here?  You won't leave us all again will you?"

 

She was as interested in the answer as Kirk was. 

 

"I must be alone for a while.  I plan to return to Vulcan for a time.  We have a retreat in the mountains.  It will give me the peace I need to find my true path."

 

"Vulcan?"  Kirk's voice was very small.  "For how long?"

 

"I do not know."  He suddenly seemed impatient.  "This is not about you, Captain.  This is about me and about how I could possibly be capable of the violence I committed against someone for whom I cared."

 

"Spock, it was understandable.  The stress of the moment..."

 

"Might be an acceptable excuse for you.  But not for me."

 

They stood in silence for a moment.  Then Kirk gave him a defeated half-smile.  "So when are you going?"  His smile faded when he heard the answer.

 

"As soon as we dock.  I have already arranged a leave of absence with Star Fleet and I have reservations on a shuttle headed for Vulcan."

 

"Just like that?"  Kirk seemed angry now.

 

"Yes, Jim."  Spock's voice was hard.  "Just like that."

 

"Well.  Good luck with that then."  Kirk, lips tight, turned.  Without looking back, he said, "There are people here that love you, Spock.  Just because she betrayed you doesn't mean we will.  Just because you reacted badly doesn't mean you will again.  Stay here.  Stay here and fight for the life you've made."

 

"I no longer want that life."

 

The captain's shoulders drooped and he walked out of the room.  His whispered "Good-bye" was nearly inaudible to her.

 

If Spock heard he gave no indication.

 

What have you done, she thought miserably.  What have you done?

 

 

 

 

 

Interlude III – Loss

 

Spock's world compressed down to one small point of consciousness.  As he had been taught so long ago, he sought the stillness, embraced the dark peace.  I am nothing, he focused.  I am solely a speck in this infinite space.

 

*A sadistic speck.*  Valeris' mind voice rang loud in his head.  He did not know if she was really there or if his own mind provided this distraction. 

 

*I did what was expedient.  There was no time for any other course of action.*

 

Her voice was bitter.  *So you claim, over and over.*

 

He instructed his mind to ignore her emotion.  It was not logical to assume his former protégé actually spoke to him.  There was no reason for such a link.  They were not bonded.  And she was far away, locked up in a rehabilitation center.  She could not be talking to him.  Yet his mind chose her to speak to him.  Why?

 

He had come to this place to find a balance.  This retreat was both laboratory and sanctuary.  He had been examining his life, his actions, all the things that had led up to Khitomer...to Valeris.  He had made little progress at first.  Found it difficult to view his own existence with any kind of objectivity. 

 

He had almost given up.  Then she had begun to speak to him.  At first he had been too startled to answer her accusations.  But as he grew accustomed to the sensation, he had begun to appreciate her assistance.  She always started at the same point:  her violation at his hands on the bridge.  But once that was over, she would challenge him on some other previously unexamined part of his past.

 

*You have a history of mental trespass.*

 

He ignored her.

 

*You have no respect for the borders between what is right and what is wrong.*

 

He considered this.  As a Vulcan, he had been well taught in ethics.  What did this new line of attack mean?  *Specify.*

 

*Witness.*

 

He was suddenly flooded with memories.  First the scene on the bridge, his hand on Valeris' arm, pulling her to him savagely.  His mind shied away.

 

*Then see this.*

 

He was drawn back so many years ago.  He lay stretched out on a bed, his hands again on the face of a woman.  Christine.  *I saved her.*

 

*You trespassed.  She invited you in and you took extreme advantage.*

 

He remembered Christine's anger when she awoke to realize he was reliving her memories.  *It was not like that.*

 

*At least for her you left the memories intact.*

 

*What do you mean?  I did nothing to your memories.*

 

*No, not to mine.  But to his.*

 

A scene from even earlier began to play.  Kirk sat at his desk, head on folded arms.  Exhausted.  Spock stood behind.  Touched Kirk's face.  Spoke one word.  "Forget."

 

He felt anger fill him.  He yelled at the Valeris-voice.  *I was trying to help him.  He was in such pain.*

 

*It is the nature of humans to grieve for what has died.  Pain is part of the process.*

 

*Too much pain.*

 

*Was that for you to decide?*

 

*He was in no shape to discuss it.*

 

*But you didn't even ask him, Spock.  Perhaps he would have preferred to remember Rayna, even if pain were the price.*

 

*He was my friend.  I did not wish to see him hurting.*

 

*You did not wish?  It is not always about you.*

 

Spock was weary of the discussion.  He sought to escape it. 

 

*Don't run away.  I only have one more thing to show you.*

 

He was in the engine room.  McCoy was telling him not to go into the warp core.  He pretended to agree, then stunned him.  "Remember."

 

The scene froze.  *Would it have been so hard to ask him?  To warn him?*

 

*There was no time.*

 

*Yes, I know.  It was expedient.*

 

*I had to do it.*

 

*Why?*  The voice was genuinely puzzled.

 

He almost answered then at the last moment fell silent.

 

*Why was this permissible, Spock?*

 

His thoughts were but a whisper.  *I had to go on.*

 

*Ah.  Finally.   You do admit it.  This was about you.  Your pride.  Your need to go on.*

 

*But I was correct.  I live now, against all odds.  I would be but a shell if I had not left my katra with him.*

 

*The odds now are entirely in favor of that.  But at the time, refusion was a fantasy, even joining with the ancestors was a dim possibility.  You were desperate.  You risked his life, his very sanity, so that some part of you would not die.*

 

He was quiet for some time.  Finally he breathed, *Yes.*

 

*He did not invite you in.*

 

*No.*

 

*You trespassed.*

 

His voice was pained.  *Yes.*

 

*Think on that and consider us all as you do.  Determine what it means for your future.*

 

*My future?*

 

Her voice was tender.  *If you always assume you know what is best, then how will you ever be open to the other possibilities?*

 

He could feel her presence weakening.

 

*Wait.*  He felt her stop for a moment.   *Are you real?*

 

Her laugh was sweet.  *I am a true voice, Spock.  But perhaps not so real...just the voice of the only one you will listen to.*

 

With a rush she was gone and he was fully alert.  He looked at the chrono.  He had been at this for hours.  Talking to Valeris...to himself?

 

He rose and walked to the comm unit in the main room, called the Vulcan Embassy on Earth.  The aide that answered recognized him immediately.  "Captain Spock."

 

"I need to speak with the Ambassador."

 

"At once, Sir."

 

The screen went black for a moment, then Sarek's face appeared.  "My son. Are you still on Vulcan?"

 

"I am, my father.  The retreat is most comfortable."

 

"You must use it whenever you like, Spock.  Consider it your own."

 

"Most kind." 

 

Sarek studied his son carefully.  "Trading pleasantries is not why you called."

 

"It is not.  I wish to know the progress that has been made with Valeris."

 

Sarek's expression darkened.  "I did not wish to trouble you."

 

"Trouble me?"

 

"With bad news.  I know you have been on a course of reflection.  I chose not to disturb it.  I knew you would emerge in time."

 

"Then the treatments have not been a success?"

 

"Spock, we were somewhat mislead on the nature of her incarceration."

 

"We?"  Spock was suddenly suspicious.  His father had access to places he could never go.

 

"You, then.  It was believed that not all the conspirators were unmasked."

 

"But I was the one that questioned her.  She had no more information.  I am sure of it."

 

"Oh we did not believe that she knew who they were, but we allowed word to leak that she knew far more than originally thought."

 

"You hoped to draw them out.  You used her as bait."

 

"Yes.  And it worked.  Three separate attempts on her life.  The assassins were quite unwilling to take the blame."

 

"And Valeris?"

 

Sarek looked uncomfortable. "She lives."

 

"In what fashion?"

 

"During the last attempt, she was wounded, quite severely.  There was massive trauma to the head.  The healers saved her life.  But the brain was too badly injured.  The Valeris you knew is gone.  She is little more than a child."

 

Spock remembered the quick mind, the sparkling wit of the young woman he had cared for.  All of it gone?

 

"She is an innocent now, Spock.  She was released to a care facility where she will live out her days.  I have made sure that she will never lack for anything."

 

"Guilt, Father?"

 

Sarek frowned slightly.  "I have nothing to feel guilty for."

 

"But you gave her no choice.  You just did this to her."

 

"It had to be done, Spock.  For the sake of..."

 

Spock finished his thought, "Expediency."

 

"Exactly."

 

"When do we stop?  When is it no longer right for us to impose our will on another?"

 

"Spock, your reaction is not logical.  We did only what had to be done."

 

"At the cost of a life."

 

"To save others.  The good of the many, Spock."

 

"I am aware of the saying."

 

"I have a meeting.  I must go.  Perhaps we should continue this discussion later?"

 

"That is not necessary, Father."  Spock's tone was final.

 

"As you wish.  Live long, my son, and prosper."

 

"Peace and long life," Spock answered as he cut the connection.

 

He roamed the garden for a while, idly taking in the new growth. 

 

So the voice was not hers.  He was disappointed in a fundamental way.  He suspected that when he next engaged in meditation it would be his own voice that tested him. 

 

Valeris.  Gone now.  Like Christine.  Like T'Pring even, when her presence was wrenched violently from his mind the evening she and Stonn joined.

 

And Jim.  What of his friend?  He had left him behind when he came here.   He had ignored the messages, tried to distance himself from a man he feared had come to mean more to him than he should. 

 

He was suddenly overcome with the need to hear Kirk's voice.  He went back to the comm unit, dialed the code he knew by heart.  There was no answer.  He replayed the messages, starting with the oldest.  Kirk was worried for him.  Couldn't he help?  Couldn't they talk?

 

Spock could tell that Kirk was bored being planet bound.  As the messages played he could see the unhappiness become more etched into his friend's face.  Until the last message.  It had come in yesterday. 

 

Kirk looked haggard.  His voice was raw.  "Spock?  Can't you even tell me that you're there?"  He paused, trying to push down emotion.  "I don't want to do this alone.  You should be there.  The Enterprise was our ship, Spock.  Not mine...ours.  Won't you come?  We should do this together.  Please?"  Another pause.  The captain forced a devil-may-care grin.  "They think that tomorrow will be the last hurrah for me, Spock.  But I'm going to show them they're wrong.  I'd rather do it with you...but perhaps not."  His smile was brave but did not reach his eyes.  "I miss you, old friend.  Kirk out."

 

Spock closed his eyes as regret overwhelmed him.  He should have been there.  But it was too late to go now.  He would contact Jim when he returned.  He would not lose this too.  Resolved, he returned to his meditations.

 

*******************************

 

Christine was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on Spock.  He had mastered the art of meditating for many hours, which, while it no doubt was proving useful to him, was excruciatingly boring to watch.

 

So she drifted through the days, exploring memories, checking in on friends still alive, and drifting in a misty haze.

 

"You really should come home."

 

Christine snapped to full consciousness at the sound of Fiona's voice.  She easily hugged her mother, enjoying the feel of her love.  But, she realized, something was different.  She pulled back to look at the other woman.

 

Fiona appeared as she always did, but Christine could sense something was off.  "Mom, has something happened?  You don't feel right."

 

Her mother nodded, "I've gone back, Christine."

 

"You mean to Earth?"

 

"Well to Q'onoS, actually.  But yes, you've got the basic idea."

 

"So your energy is there?"

 

"Most of it.  We always leave something of ourselves here.  But this time I took a lot more, figured I could use all the help I could get."

 

"So you're not Fiona anymore?"  Christine felt the same fuzzy confusion she always felt when she thought about this.

 

Fiona frowned.  "See, this is why I wish you'd come home.  It would all be so clear."  She held up her hands as Christine started to protest.  "I know, I know, you're not ready.  I'll explain it again.  The part of me that lives here, the true soul, is Melissa.  Fiona was an incarnation identity.  Now I'm Kevrilk.  I'll be someone else the next time.

 

"And Dad?"

 

"Oh, he'll be Klingon too."

 

"Because the two of you didn't get enough yelling in your last life?"

 

"Despite the way we fought with each other when we were your parents, we were both rather passive people, especially your father.  We never faced things, never confronted anyone.  Being Klingon will allow us to work on that."

 

"Plus you'll get to deal with bad hair days, armor chafing, and revolting food.  Doesn't seem like a big step up to me, Mom."

 

"It's not.  It's more a step over.  Each life we choose allows us to work on one or more aspects of ourselves that needs attention.  What may seem like a strange choice from your perspective, may be exactly the situation needed to teach us something valuable, like courage and honor."

 

"I feel that you're right even if I don't understand it."  Out of the corner of her eye, Christine saw Spock rise.  "Hey, he's actually doing something."

 

Spock walked to the comm unit and turned it on.  It was a message from Uhura.  "Mr. Spock..I."  Her face was tearstained.  She swallowed hard and started again.  "I have some bad news."

 

He waited.

 

"Captain Kirk...there was an accident, he was trying to save the ship, save them all.  Sulu and Scotty.  Chekov too.  They can't find him."

 

His eyebrow rose.  "You've lost the Captain?"

 

"They think he's dead."

 

There was silence on both ends of the comm unit.  Then Spock seemed to rouse himself.  "They think?"

 

"They've searched everywhere.  They can't find him."

 

"Understood.  Spock out."

 

"But, Sir, don't you want to come to the memorial?  It's..."

 

"I shall not be there," he said curtly as he switched the comm unit off.

 

Christine watched with concern as he began to pace.  He was muttering softly.  "Should have felt him die.  Out of touch.  An accident."

 

As he continued to pace, Christine could see guilt and grief warring on his face.

 

"Should have been there.  By your side.  Take your place.  Can't feel you.  Can't reach you."

 

Fiona moved to stand near her.  "He is holding it in.  Trying to rationalize pain.  He needs to let it out."

 

"It's not his way," Christine told her.  She looked around the room.

 

Her mother followed her gaze.  "What are you doing?"

 

"Waiting for him.  He'll come here surely?"

 

"Who?"  Fiona was clearly confused.

 

"Kirk."

 

"Why would he show up here?"

 

Christine frowned.  Why was her mother being so dense, she wondered.  "Because I did, Amanda did."

 

"But you were both dead."

 

"Haven't you been paying attention?  So is Kirk."

 

Fiona sighed heavily.  "I forgot that you can't feel them all.  Can't just know how things are.  Kirk isn't dead."

 

"But they said..."

 

Fiona interrupted her impatiently, "See for yourself."

 

Christine glanced over at Spock.  He had stopped pacing, was saying nothing.  He stood in front of a mirror.  She wondered what he saw.  She remembered the last time she had stared at herself that way.  It was one of the last things she ever did.

 

She walked over to him, moved her hands until she could feel his energy.  "Not your fault," she repeated until finally he moved to his meditation area again, sank into position.  He was all right for the moment.  She thought of Kirk.

 

And found him.  In a place where nothing was real but it was everything a person could want. 

 

Fiona appeared beside her.  "It's called the Nexus.  It's a dream world that he controls.  Anything he wants will become real."

 

Christine moved over to where Kirk was standing on a deck of a house high in the mountains.  She gingerly reached out to him.  He was still real but he felt different somehow.

 

"He's not alive.  Not in the same way.  Think of this as a sort of very active suspended animation."

 

"He'll be okay?" Christine asked her.

 

"Oh yes. Nothing can hurt him in here."

 

But Spock was hurting; Christine could feel it throughout her entire being.

 

"Go to him," Fiona urged.

 

"Yes."  Christine agreed as she winked out.

 

 

 

 

 

Interlude IV – Separation

 

Spock adjusted his robes as he waited for his father to beam over from the Vulcan Embassy.  He was unsure why Sarek wanted to see him but found that he resented the intrusion.  He had little time between missions and he had been anticipating some relaxation alone with no distractions.

 

He heard the whine of the transporter and then his father stood before him.  He had not come alone.  Standing beside him was a young human woman.  She smiled when she saw Spock. 

 

Sarek stepped forward.  "My son.  It is good to see you.  I trust you are well?"

 

"I am."  Spock's voice sounded cold even to his own ears.  There was an uncomfortable silence.

 

"You do not ask, but I too am well.  In fact," he turned to the woman, indicated she should join him, "I wanted to introduce you to part of the reason why."

 

She smiled at Spock's father in a way that made it clear she adored him.  "You do me honor, Sarek."

 

"The honor is mine," he said fondly.  He turned back to Spock.  "This is Perrin."

 

Spock was about to greet the stranger when his father continued.

 

"She who is my wife."

 

He heard the words with shock, watched in disbelief as Sarek held his fingers up in the ritual gesture, saw Perrin return it unhesitatingly.

 

"Your wife?"  He kept his voice calm.

 

"Yes.  It would please me if you welcomed her to the family."

 

Spock felt anger build within him.  "No doubt."

 

Perrin began to look uncomfortable.  She turned to her husband.  "Sarek, this is a shock for your son.  He must feel many things hearing such news." She smiled warmly at Spock.

 

He knew his tone was almost mocking as he answered her.  "If you knew anything about Vulcans you would realize that I do not feel anything at all about you or your marriage to my father."

 

As she reddened, Sarek's face grew cold.  "You give much offense, my son.  You owe better to she who is head woman of our household."

 

Spock knew he should apologize but found that he could not.  Instead he turned his back on them and walked out to the garden.

 

Sarek came out a moment later.  He looked at his son with disapproval.

 

"Is she in tears?" Spock taunted his father.

 

"She is not.   She comports herself as befits a member of one of Vulcan's oldest houses.  If only you could do the same."

 

"Do you want my approval, Father?"

 

Sarek stood tall.  "I do not need your approval for this or anything.  But you are my son.  I seek to include you in my life.  And you have been distant of late.  I knew you would not like the idea of my having taken a new wife, but I would have thought you would get to know her before you judged her."

 

"How old is she?"

 

Sarek seemed on the verge of sighing.  "I fail to see..."

 

Spock interrupted.  "Was she your student?  Someone that worked at the Embassy?  A daughter of a friend?"

 

"She worked at the Embassy."

 

"Ah," again Spock's voice was mocking, "she was nearby then when the burning came upon you and you had no choice but to reach for the closest thing, no matter how unsuitable."

 

"It was not like that."

 

"Why else would an old man choose to bond with a woman who could be his great granddaughter?"  His knew his tone was bitter.

 

"You go too far, Spock."

 

"I disagree.  I'm sure my mother would as well."

 

Sarek looked genuinely angry.  "Your mother made me promise on her deathbed that if I found someone I cared for I would marry again.  She did not see me thriving alone.  It is a shame that you did not inherit her generosity, my son." 

 

"You care for her?  This child?"

 

"She is not a child.  And yes, I care for her."

 

Spock let disdain cross is face.  "I find that hard to believe."

 

"You cannot accept that I might truly care for Perrin?"

 

"No, my father, I cannot."

 

Sarek shook his head.  "I am sorry you have such limited experience with love, Spock."  He saw his son's shock.  "Love.  I can say the word.  Can you?"

 

"I have no need to say it."

 

Now it was Sarek who mocked, "Perhaps because the three women you loved have all either betrayed or deserted you?"

 

The blow hit home.  Spock's anger grew.  "Leave me.  And take your child bride with you.  She is not welcome here."

 

Sarek drew himself up with a dignity that Spock suddenly envied.  "I would not ask her to lower herself to come here again.  You have shamed us all, Spock."

 

He said nothing as his father disappeared into the house.  When he finally went back inside, there was no trace that his father and stepmother had ever been there.

 

*****************************

 

In the middle of her own meditations, Christine felt the compulsion to look in on Spock.  She arrived when Sarek introduced his new wife.  She stood appalled as the two men argued about the young woman standing forlornly in the living room.

 

Spock was unyielding in his disapproval.  She could not believe that he would say the things he had.  Then to hear Sarek's taunt that the women Spock had loved had betrayed him.  She had been one of those three women.  She had had a hand in making him who we was.  Maybe the biggest hand.  If she had stayed with Spock, loved him, she could have eased the sting of T'Pring's rejection.  And if she had been with him, Valeris would not have had the hold on Spock that she had enjoyed.  If Christine had loved him, he would be more understanding of his father.  So much seemed to be her fault.  She could stand it no more. 

 

"I want to go home," she said firmly, and a little desperately.

 

She was instantly in a new place.  Very bright.  There was lots of activity.  A man stepped forward.  She had never seen him before and she recognized him at once.  "Roger!" she yelled as she rushed to hug him. 

 

He spun her around, his exuberant laughter at odds with the retiring scientist she had known. 

 

He put her down and took her hand.  "Come on then.  We've been waiting forever for you.  We've got to get you to the Council.  Then we can get to work."

 

She hesitated.  "I screwed up.  Everything.  I couldn't stand it down there so I ran away.  Just like I always run away.  I'm such a coward."

 

He laughed again.  "You're not a coward.  And you didn't run away."

 

"But you don't understand.  Because of what I did Spock is now so bitter he won't accept his father's wife."  She explained all the consequences of her action.

 

"That's a great theory.  Just one problem with it."

 

"What?"

 

"You didn't flee here.  You were called.  Why now?"

 

"I don't know."

 

He tapped her head.  "Quit thinking as Christine Chapel.  You've got a much larger mind at your disposal if you just reach for it."

 

She tried to grasp beyond her memories and suddenly she remembered.  Every