by Diane Duane
“You’ve had half the ship locked away in here, Bones,” the captain complained good-naturedly. Eyeing Valdyr, the captain smiled and nodded. “How are you feeling?”
She nodded back reservedly. He had come to her, himself, to tell her of her uncle’s death following theHeghba’. It had been a sign of great respect, and she’d appreciated it. He had not flinched, either, when she’d voiced the ritual howl. Valdyr was coming to think humans weren’t nearly as weak as she’d been led to believe.
“We were just about to inspect Valdyr’s quarters, Uncle Jim,” Peter told him. “Dr. McCoy told me this morning she could be released.”
Kirk nodded and turned back to Valdyr. “I’m here on official business.” He looked at Valdyr meaningfully. “A little more pleasant business than the last time, thank goodness. Miss Valdyr, Chancellor Azetbur has asked to speak with you.”
“With me?” Valdyr said, incredulously. “The chancellor would speak with me?”
Kirk walked over to the wall viewscreen and tapped a sequence on the control panel. A Klingon face appeared. “Tell the chancellor that Valdyr is here, ready to speak with her.”
Valdyr’s heart was hammering.
Suddenly, Chancellor Azetbur’s image filled the screen. She looked so stern, so powerful, so impossibly noble and honorable that Valdyr simply stared, transfixed. She reminded the young Klingon woman of the portrait in her uncle’s home. “Chancellor…” Valdyr finally managed to whisper.
Azetbur’s face warmed into a gracious smile. “Valdyr! It is an honor to speak with you. And a pleasure.”
Azetbur felthonored to meether? Valdyr’s gaped. “Oh, no, Chancellor. I have no honor…I betrayed—”
“Nonsense!” the chancellor interrupted briskly. “None of our people has more honor. You riskedeverything to save Qo’noS and our people—and you succeeded. You received an honorable wound in battle. You helped to save the honor of your family, from Kamarag’s attempt to destroy it. Qo’noS will never forget your sacrifice. While you were recovering, I have spoken to the people who know you well. They have told me of your dreams for the future.”
Valdyr glanced over at Peter quickly; he was smiling as he winked at her.
“I want you to know that I, personally, wish to assure you that your future will be as bright as the one you granted your people through your courage.” Azetbur leaned closer to the screen, her expression softening, becoming less formal, more earnest. “You were born to be a leader, Valdyr, and I shall make sure that is what you will become. You will be trained as diplomat, under my auspices and tutelage. Our Empire needs people like you to insure her welfare. Our people are facing a time when they can no longer solve problems the way they have in the past. We need warriors who will gain our ends withwords, not weapons. Youare our future, Valdyr.”
“Me?” Valdyr stammered, but after a second, she managed to regain her composure enough to say, “Chancellor, you honor me too greatly. I do not know what to say.”
“What is there to say? It is only what you deserve. Kirk has told me that his ship is currently on a vital mission to Freelan. As soon as his mission is fulfilled, when you are completely recovered, General Korrd will be sending a crew to fly theTaj home. He has instructions to bring you to me, so we may discuss your education, and your future, at greater length. Grow strong, Valdyr. I will see you soon.” And then, abruptly, she signed off.
Valdyr just sat there, completely taken aback. She’d been resigned to giving up her life as a Klingon, to adjusting to this new life. Now…She looked at the men standing around her. Azetbur must have spoken to them. She turned to Peter. “You told her…about me?”
“I told her the truth,” Peter explained. “I told her about your dreams of getting an education, about being a diplomat…. ” He trailed off. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
That was what she’d wanted…before.Did she still want it? “But…if I go back to school…” She turned and looked at Captain Kirk. Was this his way of pulling her and Peter apart? She didn’t know what to think.
“Valdyr,” the captain said softly. “You’re being given a wonderful opportunity. You’re very young. This could shape your whole life. Think carefully before you decide.”
McCoy suddenly stood in front of her. “Come on, Jim. These kids need time to talk.” Nodding farewell, the two older men left.
Peter pulled himself up to sit beside her on the bed. He had said little so far.
“If…I do this, Pityr,” she said quietly, “then…we must part…Is that what you want me to do? You want me to leave you?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment; then finally he said, “Remember that talk we had, where I told you that everyone expected me to be like my uncle Jim and take the Command track, and you said…”
“That I was expected to marry and bear children and spend all my time scheming for their advancement. Yes, I remember.”
“Well, you made that sound like a fate worse than death, Valdyr. If you pass this opportunity up…that’s all that will be left for you to do. If you married me, and had my children, and worked to improve our lives—someday you’d wake up and realize you ended up living the very same life everyone wanted you to have on Qo’noS. And then, I think, you’d be very unhappy.”
The truth of his words hit her hard. But why did her future as a diplomat require her to leave him? “Why can’t our futures somehow…be closer together? Why must I be on Qo’noS and you on Earth? Why can’t things be better than that?”
He slipped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. “I’m not sure it can’t be, Valdyr. We’ll have to work at it, and we’ll have to be willing to suffer separations…. Did you know that Mr. Spock’s parents are of mixed species?”
“No, I did not.”
Peter nodded. “His mother was human.” Then he chuckled. “And his father is a diplomat. What I’m trying to say is, that Sarek and his wife had to spend a lot of time apart, because of their work. She was a teacher, and a mother, and that kept her at home.”
“I understand about Mr. Spock’s parents,” Valdyr said, “but what has that to do with…”
“Us? Well, I just mention that because they enjoyed many years of marriage, even though they spent a lot of time apart. It was a good marriage. I’ve been thinking about them because, well, Mr. Spock’s mother just died…while Sarek was on this last diplomatic mission.”
Valdyr was startled by that. “That was a difficult thing to do, to serve with honor while one is grieving.”
“Yes, but Sarekis a Vulcan. My point, Valdyr, is that other people maintain relationships even when they aren’t always together. Even when they have to spend large amounts of time far apart.”
“You are saying, if they can do it, that we could, too?”
Peter shrugged. “I mean, if amere Vulcan can maintain a relationship with a human over time and space…what can a Klingon accomplish?”
She rested against him. “Now I know what it is I will be missing, Pityr. I will be missing you so terribly.” She felt him swallow, and knew that was one of his ways of controlling the emotions he didn’t want her to see.
“We’ll find a way, Valdyr,” he promised her, hugging her tight. “We’ll find a way to be together. We’ll just have to be patient.”
Smiling, she let him help her off the bed, and lead her to her quarters.
During the next two days, theEnterprise warped toward Freelan, accompanied through space byShardarr. When they reached the fringes of the Freelan stellar system, the ships dropped out of warp. Sarek accompanied Taryn to the transporter chamber so he could reclaim his ship from Poldar.
The wing commander, having a typically strong Vulcan constitution, was fully recovered from the effects of thesenapa poison. He had resumed his uniform. For the first time, Sarek was able to study his features freely, without either a mask of fabric or anger to conceal them. The two Vulcans stood facing each other in the transporter chamber, while theEnterprise ’s transporter chief discreetly
busied herself with duties.
“What has been the reaction to your orders to allow the Vulcans to leave, should they choose to do so?” Sarek asked.
The officer drew himself up, his expression taking on a touch of the old arrogance. “I am still wing commander. I am being obeyed,” he said. “As soon as I have beamed over, I will send Savel back…and then any of my officers who wish to leave. The Vulcans on Freelan have been told to gather at a central point, so they may be beamed up efficiently. They will do so.”
“Of course,” Sarek said, with a touch of humor. “They are Vulcans. Efficiency is in their blood.”
“You gave me your word that Savel will be under your personal guidance in establishing her new life,” Taryn reminded the ambassador.
Sarek raised a hand formally. “I gave you my word. She will be given every opportunity and advantage it is possible for me to offer.”
The wing commander relaxed slightly. “Very well, then. I must go. If you will wait for Savel, she will not be long.”
“Taryn…” Sarek began, and the officer, who had begun to turn away, turned back. “Come with us,” the ambassador said, aware of a note of entreaty in his voice he did not entirely trouble to repress. “Your people will need leadership, you are correct in that. You could provide that leadership yourself. And…” The ambassador’s mouth quirked upward slightly. “And we could play chess…. ”
A slight smile touched the wing commander’s grim mouth. “And have you continue to beat me? I think not. It is my duty to takeShardarr back to Romulus, and to face the praetor with what I have done.”
“But you know what will happen.”
“Of course,” Taryn said. “But this is what I must do, Sarek. I am a Romulan officer. I have lived as a Romulan…and I will die as one.”
Sarek sighed. “I was not expecting anything else,” he said. “But I had to ask…. ”
Taryn nodded curtly, then stepped up on the transporter pad. Again that faint smile touched his mouth, as he lifted his hand, and, with a slight grimace, spread his fingers into the Vulcan salute. “Peace and long life, Sarek,” he said, quietly—
—just as the transporter beam took him.
Minutes later, Savel and Taryn stood together inShardarr ’s transporter room. The young Vulcan woman’s features were composed, but her voice trembled uncontrollably. “I do not want to leave you,Vadi! Let me go back with you to Romulus. Perhaps I can bear witness for you, and they will understand.”
Commander Taryn smiled faintly. “Understand? The praetor? Why, Savel, I never knew you to make jokes before…. ”
“But…” She was trembling, thinking of what would happen to him back on Romulus. “Please,Vadi!”
“Savel,” he said, chidingly, “remember your control. You are a Vulcan, and under Ambassador Sarek’s guidance. He has promised me that he will sponsor you, until you are ready to take your place on your rightful world. You must look to the future.”
“Youare a Vulcan, too,” she said, an edge in her voice that betrayed her anguish at parting from him. “Come with us…. ”
He was already shaking his head. Taryn drew himself up proudly. “I am a Romulan,” he corrected her. “And I must takeShardarr back to Romulus and make my final report.”
A number of the young Vulcan bridge officers were already aboard theEnterprise, and were leaving with the Federation vessel…but a surprising number of the senior officers—including Centurion Poldar—had announced their decision to accompany Taryn on their last voyage home.
“Besides,” the commander added, “the ambassador will need help to gain the trust of the Vulcans who have chosen to go home to their native world. They will need a leader. You have the strength to guide them, Savel.”
“What will happen to the others?” she wondered. At least fifty of the Vulcans, mostly those who had married into Romulan families, had chosen to stay.
“They will have to go underground, to live as Romulans for the rest of their lives.” He sighed. “The Plan has failed. I would not be surprised if the praetor decides to evacuate Freelan entirely. The repercussions of the failure of the Plan will echo through the Empire for many years…perhaps decades.”
“What will the praetor do?” Savel asked.
“What we Romulans always do in the face of adversity…pull back, regroup, wait. The Empire is patient, Savel. That is why it has endured so long. The Empire will wait, and plan…until it is time to try again.”
“If only there could be peace,” she whispered.
He raised an ironic eyebrow. “If only there could be,” he echoed. “But not today, I fear.” He glanced up at the waiting transporter technician. “Come, it is time.”
Savel straightened her shoulders and nodded, her features calm…though her eyes were full of anguish. With her bag of personal belongings in hand, she slowly took her place on the transporter pad. Taryn gave her a Romulan salute. “Farewell,Vadia-lya.”
Squaring her shoulders, Savel hesitantly lifted her hand, spreading her fingers apart as she had seen Sarek do. “Peace,Vadi… peace and—” She broke off. To say “long life” under these circumstances was ridiculous. “Farewell,” she said, instead.
Just as the beam of the transporter began to whine, Savel saw him smile at her fondly. “Give my regards to Soran,” he said, just before she winked out of existence.
Wing Commander Taryn took a deep breath, squared his own shoulders, and left the transporter room without a backward glance.
Peter Kirk and Valdyr stood together in theEnterprise ’s docking bay, at the foot ofTaj’ s gangplank, to say their farewells. They did not embrace, because there were three Klingon officers in the doorway, eyeing them interestedly. Peter smiled unsteadily at the young Klingon woman. “You’ll get home days ahead of me,” he reminded her. “Uncle Jim finally introduced me to Ambassador Sarek and he said he would grant us access to the diplomatic commnet. I expect to find a communiqué waiting when I get back to Earth. I want to hear all about your schooling, Valdyr. I want to know everything that happens to you, until we can see each other again. Promise me.”
She nodded in turn. “On my honor, I will. You must do the same.”
“On my honor, I will.”
She gave him a faint smile. “Then…I wish you safe voyage back to your world. I know you will pass your warrior’s test with honor, Pityr. You have already faced far worse…. ”
“Yes, but then I had you to help me be strong,” he said, and for a moment felt his control slipping. “Farewell Valdyr-oy. Safe voyage. Until we meet again. May it be soon…. ”
“Farewell, Pityr-oy. We willmake it be soon,” she replied fiercely, giving him a warrior’s closed-fist salute.
As he watched, she turned and ran up the gangplank. The last glimpse he had of her was the gleam of her armor, and a final toss of her long braid.
Hearing over the intercom that the bay was about to depressurize, Peter hastily left, without looking back….
Twelve
Sarek sat on the divan in the small VIP cabin aboard the Earth-boundEnterprise, Amanda’s journal open in his lap. The ambassador was rereading the entry his wife had made on the day that the news of her father-in-law’s death had reached her.
April 5, 2249
I just received a communiqué from T’Pau, telling me that Solkar died yesterday. He was the last surviving member of Sarek’s immediate blood-kin—except, of course, for Spock…whom Sarek has declaredvrekasht.
I find myself thinking about how lonely Sarek must be. Of course, after what he did, he deserves to be alone…but time, I am discovering, has a way of putting things in perspective.
This past year, as I look back on it, has, in a way, been a good one. It was a thrill to go back to teaching, and, because of my celebrity (notoriety?), I’ve been given the best and brightest that Earth had to offer. My students have been wonderful—watching them grow and expand their horizons has been so rewarding.
Also, living here in San Francisco while Spock att
ends Starfleet Academy has been a good opportunity to renew closeness with my son.
It was also good to spend time with Mom and Dad…Aunt Matilda passed away this year, and she was younger than Dad…it made me realize, for the first time, that my parents will not go on forever. Neither will I, come to think of it.
Neither will Sarek.
It’s funny how death puts things in perspective. I think…I think it’s time to go home to Vulcan. Spock will soon, as second-year cadet, be going off on training missions. He has made the admittedly difficult adjustment to living in close quarters with so many human students, and he is finally beginning to make a few friends.
He doesn’t need me here anymore…he needs the company of people his own age, cadets who are learning the things he is learning.
And, of course, there is the thought of Sarek, alone. When I asked T’Pau, rather hesitantly, how Sarek was these days, she stared straight at me, her imperious expression unchanged—but her words, uttered in her slightly lisping, accented speech, surprised me. “Thee asks how Sarek is, Amanda? In all this year of exile from thy homeworld, thee hast never asked. Why now?”
“I ask because I know how Sarek would grieve for his father, T’Pau,” I said, regarding her steadily. “I am…concerned about his welfare.”
Her black eyes blinked at me, from out of her bony, once-beautiful features. “Thee is right, Amanda. Sarek grieves for Solkar…but he grieves a hundredfold more for thee.”
Her bluntness startled me. “Really?” I murmured, unable to think what to say, trying to repress the stab of anguish her words brought.
T’Pau paused, then stared straight at me. “Wilt thee attend Solkar’s memorial service, Amanda? If thee tells me thee wishes to attend, I will delay the service until thee can come home.”
Home. She said “home” in referring to Vulcan. T’Pau said that, to me…an off-worlder. My breath caught in my throat as I remembered so much…the beauty, the desolation, the heat…Sarek’s arms around me, the closeness of our bodies no more intimate than that of the bond we share…
