lightly.
"What.. are you doing?" she whispered, holding per-feefly still.
"Kissing you," he explained, pressing his mouth to the edge of her jaw,
then the corner of her mouth. "Do Klingons kiss?"
"Yes," she murmured.
He met her gaze unflinchingly. "What do you want? Do you want me to
touch you?"
"I want only one male on Qo'nos to touch me," she admitted. He started
to pull back slightly, afraid he'd misinterpreted her interest. "I want
Pityr Kirk ... a human.t ... and a warrior. to touch mew She said it
as if it amazed her.
Then, as if her confession suddenly granted Peter total freedom, he took
the woman in his arms, armor and all, and pressed his mouth against
hers.
The kiss began tenderly, but almost immediately it ignited all the
stored-up emotion of his long days of captivity.
Peter pulled Valdyr fiercely against him, and was aware of her arms
coming up to encircle him with a strength he found exhilarating.
"Hlja'.t" she whispered, between kisses.
"Mevqo', Pityr ..."
There was no way in hell he could stop.
Finally, when they pulled away, she laughed and bit his chin hard. He
yelped and bit her back. And in the next instant they fell upon the
bunk, wrestling, yanking at each other's clothing, rolling over and over
in strenuous love-play that sent them crashing to the floor, laughing,
biting, tussling. Finally, he landed on his back, Valdyr straddling him,
pinning his shoulders to the ground.
"I like this way of kissing. You will teach me this human
kissing, Pityr Kirk!" she demanded before dissolving in laughter again.
He heaved her up and tossed her off him, rolling over to pin her down
this time. "I will teach you this human kissing, Valdyr-oy. And you will
teach me ... ?" He had no idea what to ask for.
She touched his cheek, her eyes glimmering. "Everything, Pityr-oy. I
will teach you everything."
He leaned down and began their lessons ... "Ambassador Sarek?"
Commander Uhura's voice was as cool and professional as usual, but there
was an underlying note of tension in it that made the Vulcan raise an
eyebrow as he activated the intercom in his cabin.
"Samk here, Commander," he replied.
"I have a message coming in for you, Ambassador," she said. "The codes
accompanying it identify it as being from Freelan "The way she trailed
off alerted the ambassador.
"Is it originating there?"
"All the codes are correct, and the directional frequency is right ...
but I don't believe it's actually coming from them.
My guess is that the transmission is being relayed via Freelan from some
other location." nodded. "That does not surprise me, Commander Uhura.
Please patch the message through to me here ... and, if you can do so
without arousing suspicion, trace the actual origination coordinates of
the message."
"Understood, Ambassador," she replied. Almost immediately the comm
screen in Samk's cabin flickered, and, a moment later, he found himself
facing a Freeinn. Despite the fact that Freeinns appeared virtually
identical in their shrouding robes, the Vulcan was certain that his
caller was Taryn. "Greetings," Sarek said, cautiously. "This is
Ambassador Samk.
Whom do I have the honor of addressing, please?"
"This Liaison Taryn," the image's mechanical tones responded, without
preamble. "Ambassador ... I must ask you to meet with me on a matter of
some urgency."
"Where would you like to meet?" Sarek said. "As you have already
discovered, I am not on Vulcan."
Taryn's shrouded figure moved slightly, and the Vulcan thought he
detected tension in the dark form. "Why ... I had hoped you could come
here, as is our custom," the Freelan liaison said.
"When would you prefer to meet?"
"As soon as possible."
Sarek shook his head. "I fear that will be difficult, Liaison.
The ship that is my transport has been diverted to patrol the Neutral
Zone. I will be unable to meet with you until the Enterprise has
completed its current mission. Why do you need to meet with me,
Liaison?"
Taryn did not reply for a long moment. "That trade agreement we
negotiated last month concerfflng kivas shipments," he said, finally.
"My government has overridden some of the provisions I agreed to. I have
no choice but to ask you to reconvene the negotiations."
Sarek raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. "Overridden?" he asked.
"Liaison, when we met, I trusted that I was dealing with someone with
sufficient authority to negotiate in good faith. I am ... disappointed
... to discover that you no longer have the backing of your
government."
When the liaison replied, the Vulcan could hear the anger lacing his
voice, even through the mechanical tones. "I assure you, Ambassador,
that this is simply a temporary setback. I have not lost the backing of
my government. I do have the power to negotiate in good faith for my
world."
For the first time, Sarek permitted a touch of sarcasm to tinge his own
voice. "Your world? Which world is that?"
"What do you mean?" Taryn demanded angrily.
"My apologies," Sarek said, smoothly. "My mind must be ... confused.
Age catches up with all of us, as the human aphorism would have it. For
just a moment I thought I was speaking with someone else ... a diplomat
from another world altogether, by the name of ... Nanclus. You never
met him, of course. He was executed for treason last month."
"When can you meet with me?" Taryn asked, and the mechanical tones could
not disguise the cold fury in his voice.
"I do not know," Sarek said, honestly. "I will have to consult with the
ship's officers to discover that. I will speak with you again by the end
of today, Liaison."
"I may be away ... at a government conference," Taryn said. "My aide
will take your message, Ambassador."
"Very well." Sarek inclined his head and raised his hand in the Vulcan
salute. "I wish you peace.. and long life, Taryn." ' Without replying,
the Freelan broke the connection.
Sarek sat staring at the screen for a moment, until Uhura's face
flickered into view. "Ambassador Sarek ... I was correct, sir. That
call was patched through Freelan channels, but its actual point of
origin was in a sector of the Romulan Neutral Zone. The exact
coordinates are a few hours' journey from our present location."
Sarek inclined his head graciously. "I thank you for your diligence,
Commander," he said. "I find that information unsurprising ... but ..."
His mouth curved slightly as he thought about his son's reaction." ...
fascinating."
In his office aboard Shardarr, Commander Taryn pulled off his muffling
Freelan cowl and inhaled a deep breath of "fresh" air before turning to
face Savel, who was sitting across the desk from him. "He knows." The
commander's deep voice was grim. "He knows everything. Now he mocks me
with his knowledge. There is no question anymore.
Ambassador Sarek must die ... and as quickly as po
ssible."
Quickly, the commander contacted Poldar over the intercom and ordered
him to plot a course that would take them within subspace jamming range
of the Enterprise.
"Our foremost ships are still half a day's journey away from our present
location, Commander," the centurion reported, when asked.
"What will you do now?" Save/inquired softly.
The commander gave her an enigmatic glance. "Delay, Savel. Make
Enterprise notice me, then hunt me, then chase me ... until it is my
pleasure to turn the tables, and hunt her."
Sayel gazed at him, her eyes wide and haunted, full of silent
apprehension a nd sadness. Where is Soran? If he dies.. I will be the
cause of it ... of all of this ...
"Pityr," Valdyr whispered against the cadet's car, "we have to leave
now."
Peter Kirk groaned, not certain whether he'd actually slept, or simply
lain, half-drugged with exhaustion and satisfaction. The room appeared
the same as it had when they'd entered it, the lantern still
illuminating the dimness, and he had no sense of time.
"Pityr," she whispered, "it is time. We must go."
"Not yet," he argued. "Just a few more minutes ."
She sighed, then relaxed against him. "One more minute," she said.
"Perhaps two. But no more, 7woy ..."
The human stroked her back, feeling the contours of flesh over bone that
weren't quite human. He realized that he ached. I must be covered with
bruises, he thought, remembering what had passed between them and
marveling at it.
Not to mention toothmarks. A faint taste lingered in his mouth, sweet
and somewhat smoky. Peter ran his tongue over his raw, bruised lips. The
faint saltiness of his own blood now mingled with the alien taste of
hers.
He tightened his arms around her, then kissed her again.
He didn't want to leave now. He didn't even want to move, though the
floor they were lying on was so cold and hard that he was shivering.
Finally he raised his head, resisting the urge to kiss her again, to
savor the taste and texture and feel of her strange mouth again ... and
again. "What time is it?"
"It is the middle of our night," she explained, as she picked up her
small lantern. "The few soldiers my uncle left here with Karg should be
weary from searching for us since the midday meal. Karg would've come
looking for me
shortly after I failed to heed his summons. I don't know how long it
would be before they missed Darj. Eventually, someone would've thought
to check your cell." He was surprised to see her grin.
She stood, and began pulling her clothing into place, then redonned her
armor. "They will search the road to Tengchah Jav--the closest
spaceport. Even if Karg were bright enough to figure out that we hid on
the premises--which he's not--he will have to search very discreetly.
Kamarag gave orders that nothing should arouse suspicion from any
official agency of the Klingon government."
"So, what's our plan?" he asked, as he slipped on his boots.
"We will take the tunnels to the farthest exit, and come out in the
woods near the south road. We can stay in the forest and follow the road
to the spaceport. It will be perhaps nine of your kilometers to the
port."
"Can't they scan for me while we're under here?" he asked. "After all, I
am the only human in the nearby vicinity."
She patted a wall. "There is so much scionitc in these walls that
scanning rays cannot penetrate. That is why they cannot follow us
here--to the scanners, this does not exist."
"And once we're out of the tunnels?"
"I have a small tracer for you. It will give off a false
registration--make the scanners think you are another Klingon. Soldiers
carry them so they can be found where they fall in battle, so they might
receive their warrior's ritual. It will mask your readings."
"Suppose we're seen?" Peter asked. He tapped his forehead.
"Don't you think someone might notice?"
"I have a hooded cloak for you," she said. "I cached one here
yesterday." She opened a recessed drawer under the stone sleeping shelf
and pulled it out.
"You've thought of everything," Peter said, "1 think.
What happens when we get to the spaceport?"
"We will have to get past the security gates, and keep a close eye out
for Karg's troops. Then, I will help you find a
ship." She hesitated, glancing at him sideways. "You will escape Qo'nos
... "
"You mean we will. Right?" he demanded, taking her by the shoulders.
"You're coming with me, back to Earth.
Aren't you7"
Valdyr gazed up at him, smiling sadly. "That is what I thought too, at
first. But ... I've reconsidered. Pityr ... be realistic. A Klingon,
on Earth? How could I live? I would be an exile, an outcast, living
among a species that hates my people--even as my people hate yours ...
"We don't have to stay on Earth," Peter insisted. "There are colonies
where even we wouldn't be noticed."
"And your career in Starfleet?"
"Listen, all that time alone in that cell made me think, too, and one of
the things I've realized is that I'm not James T. Kirkwand I never will
be. I want to be myself I'm not cut out to be a legend, Valdyr. I'm just
not cut out for command." He regarded her worriedly. "Valdyr-oy ...
think what will happen if you stay behind! Your uncle ... when he
catches up with you ...
Her exotic alien beauty almost glowed as she responded assuredly, "Do
not worry, Pityr-oy. He will not catch me. I will die by the Heghba',
with my honor intact."
It took the human a second to realize that she meant ritual suicide, and
when he did, his hands tightened convulsively on her shoulders. "No!" he
cried. "Don't even think it?
"I have betrayed my family by helping you," she pointed out reasonably.
"There is no other path left to regain my honor."
"Don't talk like that," he said fiercely, his heart pounding with fear
for her. "You're not doing that! I won't let you!
You'll have to fight me, Valdyr ... !" He stopped, realizing how
frantic he sounded.
Her face was very close to his in the confines of the dusty,
stone-walled chamber. Peter felt her breath touch his face as she said,
softly, "The last time I fought you, I won. But you were exhausted, at
the end of your stamina. I do not think it will be so easy for me the
next time."
He pressed his cheek against hers and held her to him. If that was the
best she could do for capitulation, he'd take it.
But at least she knew if she attempted to stay behind at the spaceport,
he wouldn't give in without a struggle.
"Now, we must go," she whispered and, taking his hand, led him out of
the room.
She led Peter along dark, dusty corridors that twisted and turned
without rhyme or reason. They traveled a surprisingly long time, saying
nothing, with no light but Valdyr's small hand-held lantern.
Finally, the corridor they were in ended in a tunnel that ran straight
up, with an ancient-looking, b
attered wooden ladder traveling up into
the darkness. Without a word, Valdyr began climbing, and Peter followed
without hesitation.
Finally, she halted, and Peter could see an opening in the stone before
her.
"Good," Valdyr whispered. "They have not discovered this exit. Quickly,
now!" She was out of the opening in seconds, and Peter clambered out
after her. And then for the first time he stood on Qo'nos's soil,
conscious and aware.
Despite Valdyr's urgency, he paused to glance around.
In the darkness, the forest looked like any forest at night--heavy tree
trunks crowding in on one another, with tangled, shapeless underbrush at
their roots. In the daylight, the colors and textures that would make
this forest unique alien--would be revealed, but for now, all that was
lost.
Then Peter glanced skyward--and stood transfixed.
Overhead, washed in gold by the reflected light of the sun on the
planet's other side, Qo'nos's ring arched like a bridge--a broken
bridge. The shadow of Qo'nos bisected the middle of the ring, leaving it
in darkness.
Star Trek - Sarek Page 37