1. Chapter 1

title: riyeht-staya

author: infomedie

Length: 21,275

Pairing: None

Category: Gen

Rating: pg13

Archive: nowhere right now

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of it's concepts and characters.

Beta: anr and havocthecat

Summary: with the right reason, even a Vulcan may murder...

Spoilers: 2.07 "The Seventh"

Written for: babel who asked for T'Pol, mystery/action adventure with Archer interaction and I was even able to put in a bit of the other request and set it very shortly after "The Seventh"

Note: As it relates to Skon, this story does try to incorporate his appearance in the novel "The Lives of Dax" at least partially. The canon conflicts a bit with Enterprise but it's tweakable.

Translation: _riyeht-staya: the unlawful killing of one Vulcan by another, especially with premeditated malice_ found in two online Vulcan Language Dictionaries (which rule massively)

* * *

_"The spear in the other's heart is the spear in your own. You are he." _- Surak

The taking of a life is a peculiarly simple undertaking, involving very little in true difficulty. The only obstacle of consequence in the whole affair lies in the taboo that surrounds the act itself. The very moment that taboo is overcome, all difficulty is erased leaving only the matter of planning and, naturally enough, the execution.

Unfortunate as it was, such considerations had become more than mere academic debate in this situation. Though an abundance of potential options had originally been available, none of them now remained and everything dictated that action be taken. Killing remained the sole viable outcome and necessity demanded it be the resolution.

Needing the protection of darkness, he departed the room which had been provided him after dusk. Dressed as one of the Mondarian peasantry, it was too easy to move about the capital city unnoticed by its inhabitants and the city's security forces. Mingling through the pedestrians in the streets, he began to feel like a ghost which, if one considered the situation, was entirely appropriate.

The Chancellery lay at the heart of the city, revered for its architecture and various collections. As with the Terran expression 'all roads lead to Rome', in the capital of city of Mondar Prime, all roads led to the majestic building which dominated the hearts of her people.

Held over in session due to the debates, Council would be just letting out for the evening meal and respite when he arrived. Outside, in the courtyard, the usual crowd would mill. Councillors, staff, observers, and the media all jockeying for position as the debate spilled over into the streets. It was an entirely raucous affair and the perfect opportunity for the task at hand.

At precisely the right instant, hands shot out of the dark toward a particular throat. In mere moments there was screaming, chaos, and a body with a Vulcan kneeling at its side.

* * *

Usually when Admiral Forrest's face appeared on the screen, the captain of the NX-01 had learned to expect that face to bear one of three expressions: moderately aggravated, moderately perplexed, or generally pissed off, the cause of any one usually involved Enterprise. This time, Forrest had the look of a dog surveying a very unusual bone and Archer had to consider his own curiosity piqued. The last time he'd seen this expression, it had sent him chasing after T'Pol and a Vulcan fugitive, God only knew what it was this time.

"Morning, sir," he greeted, offering his superior a genuine smile. "Something we can help you with?" Settling in at his desk, he eyed the list of morning reports on the padd before him and chose one at random for review. "If you're just calling to chat, we can talk nebulas. T'Pol's been angling to visit one about three light years from here. Supposed to be a hell of a view."

"I'm sure it is," the admiral agreed with an affable nod. "But, unfortunately, we don't have time to discuss your science officer's interest in stellar phenomena this morning." Leaning back in his chair, Forrest hit a command which widened the view to reveal a tall, austere Vulcan standing at his side. An older man, he wore impressive ambassadorial robes which suggested he was no mere adjunct and, unlike some of his colleagues that Archer had dealt with, he carried an air that commanded respect. Something about him was so very familiar but the captain wasn't about to wager any guesses when introductions were about to be carried out. "Captain Jonathan Archer, this is Ambassador Solkar of Vulcan. Jon, the ambassador has a personal request he'd like to make of you, Ambassador..."

Solkar.

The name had the predictable effect of making Jon's spine snap as straight as any cadet on review and he only just managed to quell the entire reaction. What was one of Vulcan's most revered citizens and legendary ambassadors doing on Earth? More importantly, what was he doing at Starfleet Headquarters making a request of a vessel his people still considered a mistake?

"I apologize, Captain Archer, for the intrusion into your morning routine but I assure you this is a matter of grave importance. Tell me, have you ever been briefed on a planet known to its inhabitants as Mondar Prime?"

* * *

"Sub-Commander?"

Lifting her eyes from the sensor hood, T'Pol shook her head once in silent refusal of Yeoman Pike's offer. The young woman smiled politely and continued on to Ensign Sato who gratefully accepted a mug of steaming coffee with her murmured thanks.

As the Yeoman moved on, Hoshi brought the cup near her face and inhaled what appeared to be a fortifying breath which instantly brought a wide smile to her face.

Curious. T'Pol had often observed humans to conduct unusual rituals in relation to their food consumption and many tended to vary in intensity and behavior. The one that had not, however, varied was the reaction that their coffee generated. The bond they shared with the dark, bitter liquid was most unusual. She had determined the beverage to be the Terran equivalent of Saya, a drink consumed readily among her own people, but never before had any Vulcan behaved with such reverence toward the spicy drink. Having sampled coffee herself, she had not observed any particular reaction to it within herself that would merit such response. It was another of the many questions with no apparent answers she had observed in the young race. In this case, she could only presume it something to do with the human digestive system that its Vulcan cousin lacked.

Most curious nevertheless.

Returning her eyes to the sensors, T'Pol watched the readings on the Turkhana Nebula as they scrolled across the hood's tiny screen. Interesting reports at that, the ship's sensors - rudimentary though they were - suggested tantalizing developments within the nebula's sub-atomic structure. If Captain Archer could be persuaded to the detour, her department would have much data with which to intrigue the Science Directorate, and perhaps even the famed Science Academy itself, by the results it suggested.

"T'Pol." As if summoned by her thoughts, the captain emerged from his ready room and, judging by his expression, he was about to confirm her suspicions about the call from Admiral Forrest.

Reluctantly turning away from her results, the science officer watched him approach. "Am I to assume, Captain, that our course has been altered by Starfleet Command?" She spoke the question neutrally but, to her own ears, she could detect a faintly petulant tone. In her time aboard Enterprise, she had observed that such changes were rarely welcome by anyone aboard ship. This time, the apologetic look on Archer's face suggested this particular change was not in the favor of her research - regrettable but a neligible concern. The nebula had been present and active for thousands of years, it would wait a few days more.

The captain sighed as he came to a stop before her station. "In my defense, T'Pol, I really had intended on letting you play with that nebula."

She would have opened her mouth to correct him on his choice of words but held her tongue instead. The captain enjoyed his humor and there was a sense settling over the bridge which she did not believe to be at all encouraging; humor might be in short supply among her crewmates soon enough.

"I'm sure," he continued finally, "that you've heard the name Solkar?"

If it were the Solkar of Vulcan about which he spoke, T'Pol could hardly deny it. All of Vulcan knew the name, the family, and the man. She had heard him speak early in her life, his words following her throughout her career. He and his mate held much sway over the Vulcan people, to say nothing of his children. "I have." Despite her internal thoughts, she remained as neutral on the subject as one could. "He is currently an Ambassador at large who works on behalf of the High Council itself." She lifted a brow. "Is there reason for your inquiry, Captain? Or have you decided to take interest in Vulcan's societal structure?"

Archer chuckled, taking the comment as humor, and briefly ducked his head. "Perhaps I should," he admitted. "After this is over, I just might have to." Leaning on the railing, he sobered and met her eyes. "His son, Skon, is a mathematician, I met him once when he consulted on the development of the transporter."

She nodded. "I am aware of his work."

"Most humans aren't," the captain responded. "I got the feeling he preferred it that way."

"Indeed, Skon has never appeared comfortable with the status of the family. He has been content with a career of diplomacy through shared scientific goals." This was not the conversation she had anticipated having when Archer had joined them on the bridge. It was, at best, highly unusual and the undercurrent was even troubling. He was, she well knew, avoiding the subject. "Is there a problem, Captain?"

He nodded and, were T'Pol human, she would have said her blood ran cold at his answer. "Ambassador Solkar was with Admiral Forrest when he called. He's personally asked Enterprise to divert to a planet called Mondar Prime. Skon has been working there on one of his projects with the locals, something about a weather net. He's been arrested - on suspicion of murder."

* * *

The planet was in an uproar. Chancellor Mendat was dead, the Vulcan arrested, and the population on the verge of riot. Everything was going precisely to plan and the ease of its progression was most gratifying.

While some were calling for calm and the restoration of order, the society had polarized into two separate camps. Those who demanded blood vengeance by means of the alien's execution and those who protested his innocence, proclaiming the pacifism of their Vulcan cousins.

As expected, those defending Skon were being branded as traitors to Mondar Prime in the Capital City's media.

Suspicion ran rife in the city's streets and already there had been scattered reports on the few outworlders in the population. The few Vulcans that had accompanied Skon to the planet were rumored to be in protective custody somewhere in Government House. They, themselves, were not under suspicion but their safety could not be guaranteed and their location remained secret even to the Vulcans themselves.

As for the accused himself, Skon was being held within the Chancellery. It had become the center of the unrest and none of the Ruling Council was willing to take the chance of moving him. Were he innocent and killed by a lynch mob all of Vulcan would demand retribution. It was well known that even Vulcan logic could eventually give way to madness.

All that required was the right breaking point and if one were very careful, one could easily find it.

* * *

"Mondar Prime is inhabited by a Vulcanoid species, they are reasonably peaceful and have had warp drive for a number of generations. Only recently, however, have they begun venturing outside their planetary system." T'Pol explained, bringing up an image of the planet on the screen for Archer's perusal. "Prior to 10.2 years ago, they had little interest in exploration."

She watched impassively as the captain circled around to take a closer look at the screen. "What exactly changed?" He asked, glancing back at her.

"In centuries past, the Mondarian people abused their planet's ecosystem much in the fashion that your ancestors did. Only now are the true effects of that abuse making themselves known. The climate change has thrown Mondar Prime's already chaotic and violent weather into near catastrophic extremes and it is worsening by the year. They approached us for assistance in reversing the damage and - "

"Enter Skon and his team." Archer finished for her, nodding. "They're trying to help clean up the mess."

"In a manner of speaking," T'Pol said. "They are developing a satellite system that, once deployed, will regulate the weather. Without that system, research data suggests the worsening violent storm systems will continue to do severe damage to their civilization and, indeed, their entire planet."

"So, why exactly all the controversy?" The captain turned to face her with an expression of confusion. "If this is going to save lives and they're there at the government's request..."

She did not suppress the upward motion of brow which conveyed her reaction to that comment. "It is not logical, I agree. However, Captain, you above all should understand why there is controversy among the Mondarians about our involvement."

Archer had the good humor to wince and grin at the same time. "Touché," he agreed around a chuckle. "Okay, so some of them don't trust the Vulcans or their motives for being involved in the project."

"Some of them do not," she affirmed. "By the reports Skon's party sent back, we know the Chancellor numbered among them and that he and Skon did exchange numerous discussions on the matter."

"Meaning they argued frequently?" T'Pol made room at the console as he moved back to join her, taking up position at her side and glancing out at the rest of the bridge.

"In the eyes of the Chancellor, the discussions might have indeed been viewed as arguments. I cannot attest to his state of mind on the matter but I can speak to Skon's. As a Vulcan, he would have enjoyed a chance to debate the merits of the project itself. Murdering him would have ended all opportunity on this matter, therefore that is not logical as well." T'Pol stabbed at the console controls in swift, jerky movements as anger bled subtly through beneath her control. The more she contemplated the situation the more increasingly difficult it became to control her emotions on the matter. To accuse any Vulcan of an act so devoid of purpose or reason was insulting enough, but one such as Skon?

"This is bothering you, isn't it?" Stepping closer, the captain lowered his voice in deference to the bridge crew working just a few feet away. "Skon being accused of this crime is bothering you a lot more than you're letting on."

"It is," she admitted tightly, moving swiftly away to the other side of the console as she found herself in dire need of the distance. Discussing it, even with the captain, stretched her control that much further and his concern grated against her already raw emotions. Logically, she knew she should not be feeling as she was. She directed her mind away from such thoughts to the project status reports that Skon's team had regularly submitted. It was likely that within them lay the answer to his freedom and, if so, the responsibility of finding it lay with her. Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato had reviewed them as well but there were certain subtleties that only another Vulcan would be able to detect.

"One of the hazards of diplomacy." Resting his hands on the console, Archer watched her with a sympathetic expression. A look she avoided meeting, steadily keeping watch on the reports before her. "It's pretty much a given that running into trouble on an alien world will come up sooner or later, your people must be experts on dealing with it. Look at the situation with V'lar, got a bit dicey there for a while but everyone came out of it all right."

"It did, and we have," T'Pol agreed. "It is not that." She hesitated, finding the effort to keep even her voice composed to be more taxing than she had anticipated. "In this situation, Captain, it is a matter of who it is and the crime that he stands accused of. Vulcan's distance on the matter suggests they are they are concerned for his life should they intervene. If we do not prove Skon is innocent of this crime, he will be executed by means of a ritual killing that, even at my people's bloodiest, we would have considered beyond cruel. _This cannot happen_." She swallowed hard against the sudden rise of fear and rage in her breast. "It cannot, Captain," she continued again with more calm. "I cannot let this happen."

Not after her role in the destruction of P'Jem...

In the wake of Skon's death, all Vulcan would need someone to blame and she suspected an exiling would be a blessing even to her; the shame would be too great for her to return home. She had been raised to revere the family of Surak and the knowledge that she had failed to save their heir from a vicious death for a crime of which he was not guilty...she dared not consider it too closely.

"We're not going to, T'Pol," Archer promised, solemn in the moment. "Even if we have to beam him out of there and run like hell, we're not going to let that happen."

* * *

There were no windows; still she knew it was night. The sun had set on the city some time ago, during her evening meditations, and she again faced the unwelcome realization that there had been no resolution to the crisis. Skon was still in chains, accused of a horrific crime.

Indeed, somewhere beyond the walls of her shelter, her husband waited in similar unrest under the watchful eye of Mondarian security. Without any answers and any sign they would be forthcoming, they were both left to keep their vigils and await their fate. Not a situation that either of them were particularly comfortable with though she suspected her husband was handling it far more efficiently than she. Raised the son of a diplomat, Skon had much experience in these matters while she, the sheltered daughter of two Academy scientists, did not.

Ironic when one considered the fact she was the one free to attempt negotiation and, in her current situation, had done little more than request copies of the investigation's progress and forward such to Vulcan. Though she did regret her inability to help through diplomacy, T'Vei was aware of other opportunities available to her. Since she and the expedition team had been relegated to 'protective custody' by their hosts - she would not yet refer to them as her captors - all work on the satellite project had ceased. This left her with ample time to review the evidence provided from the investigators. If she could not see her husband, she could still help him avoid the Mondarian Rites of Execution.

The Chancellor had died of a broken neck, this was indisputable. What was not, however, was the method by which it had occurred. A healer by training and practice, T'Vei had not had any opportunity to examine the body herself but if she were to make determinations from the copy of the autopsy report, she was forced to admit that the method of killing appeared familiar. She could not say for certain that it was indeed Tal-Shaya, but she could not say that it was not either. It suggested the killer were Vulcan, something which did not count in her husband's favor, but that was also not a definite. On any other world, T'Vei would have been comfortable in such an assessment but this was a planet populated by a Vulcanoid species. She was unfamiliar with any Mondarian martial arts but it was indeed theoretically possible that they had developed a technique that was similar in appearance to Tal-Shaya.

_'So many potential variables. '_ All of which she lacked any practical means of exploring. Her attempts to convince Mondarian security to allow her to examine the evidence and the Chancellor's remains had been rebuffed.

"Lady, if I disturb you, I apologize." Sokath, a young aide to her husband, spoke from where he hovered nervously in the entrance to the private chamber she had been granted (supposedly a concession to her status). "We have received a transmission from Vulcan."

"I am not disturbed," she assured, putting down her research and looking up at him. "Please elaborate."

For one so young, his control was commendable but she could read the uncertainty in his eyes and understood. "They are not coming," she spoke for him, turning off the viewer and rising from her seat. "The situation is highly volatile; the High Council correctly believes that sending one of our vessels would only serve to further arouse Mondarian anger."

Sokath inclined his head. "Yes. T'Pau has, I am told, opened dialogue with the Deputy Chancellor and they believe progress is slowly being made."

Which it would, she well knew. T'Pau was kin and a skilled negotiator, she would not cease in her efforts until a satisfactory conclusion had been reached. "Sufficient," T'Vei decided, telling herself so as much as the aide. "Skon will be gratified to know it has fallen to her."

The hesitation was brief but, to a Vulcan, unmistakable. Sokath hesitated a moment, betraying his uncertainty toward his next message. "Speak, Sokath," she prompted gently. "Information is our only defense at present, you will do more harm withholding it from me than you will prevent."

"T'Pau wishes you to know that Solkar has traveled to Earth, intending to ask the Earthmen to assist in the effort to resolve this situation." The young Vulcan confessed quickly, clearly relieved to be free of it.

T'Vei raised a brow.

"Indeed," she murmured to herself, considering it briefly. "Is that all there was?" At his nod, she dismissed him with her thanks and turned back to those contemplations. Solkar and Skon shared a certain fascination with the Terrans and had since first contact with them had been made. It was not unsurprising that Solkar would enlist their assistance; he had become something of a champion to their cause with the High Council. She suspected the majority of humanity was unaware of his steadfast support and believed he wished it thus. Unaware as they were of his involvement, the surprise - if one could call it that - would be in their agreement. Relations had improved between their two worlds; nevertheless, this was a dangerous situation. After the near-disaster that had been the NX-01's assistance with V'lar a year prior, she did not think the humans would be in any hurry to assist them now, especially if there was to be no official request from the High Council.

"Enterprise..." she mused quietly, sitting down.

Interesting.

* * *

"He is innocent." Upon the captain's explanation of the facts as he knew them to the senior staff, T'Pol made the pronouncement with no hesitation and utter conviction. "No Vulcan would do such a thing, certainly not Skon."

Her shipmates, unfortunately, did not seem to share her faith.

"I can appreciate your need to believe in the man, Sub-Commander," Lieutenant Reed began, his tone hesitant as though he were choosing his words with great care, "however I must question your certainty. He was found kneeling over the Chancellor's body, a man who - by all accounts - opposed the Vulcans' involvement on Mondar Prime and with whom Skon was known to have had words, and Skon's own wife confirms that the Chancellor died by a Vulcan method of killing." Regretfully, he spread his hands. "Even you must admit that the evidence is not in his favor."

That was indeed so. On the surface, the evidence did not provide an encouraging picture but T'Pol could not believe the circumstantial evidence to be so damaging as was suggested and said as much to her fellow officers. "There are any number of ways to discount much of the evidence, Lieutenant, and easily so. One must consider the fact that it is a Vulcan who stands accused of the crime. You cite the fact Skon and the Chancellor had engaged in a debate but how would logic be served if Skon killed the Chancellor for his disagreement? The Mondarian reaction to the murder has done nothing but inflame their anger, thus making the situation worse. It has, in no way, furthered Skon's cause among the Mondarian government or its citizens."

"Well, I can't believe the evidence either," Ensign Sato shook her head emphatically. "I can't." She looked cautiously at the Vulcan woman beside her. "With your permission, Sub-Commander?"

T'Pol acknowledged the respectful request with a faint nod. "Please."

"Lieutenant, the murder rate on Vulcan is nonexistent and is so for a reason. While Vulcans themselves would admit that, if logic demanded it, they could kill, they are avowed pacifists. They have been since the time of the Awakening and Reformation. After two thousand years, it would be almost impossible to drive any Vulcan to a murder so illogical as this one, much less a member of Skon's family." Hoshi shook her head. "It's not him, he didn't do it."

The emphasis in her voice seemed to rouse the interest of Trip who tossed out the challenge, "And what makes his family so all-fired important?"

Unexpectedly, it was Captain Archer who answered. "They're the descendants of Surak and, from my understanding, the traditional cultural leaders of Vulcan society. No official governmental authority but plenty of personal influence."

"Indeed," T'Pol agreed, "Skon is the eldest son of the eldest son. He will, in essence, rule the family. He is heir to authority over Surak's personal house and lineage as well as that of his clan. For him to commit such an act for no apparent reason would be an immeasurable disgrace on the family." She permitted a frown at the consideration of what the cultural repercussions would be on Vulcan. It would be a shame so great the mark it would leave on the family would be carried for generations to come.

"Okay, so you think this guy's the victim of a frame up," Trip acknowledged, leaning forward to rest his hands on the table. "Why are we getting our marching orders?"

"We aren't." The captain shook his head. "Since the murder, civil unrest has literally exploded on Mondar Prime. The Vulcan High Council is concerned that if the High Command sent a ship to investigate the murder, it would destabilize everything and cause a civil war. Ambassador Solkar intervened and personally asked us to help his son and his family."

"Their safety is indeed paramount," T'Pol spoke. "I cannot accurately describe the devastation on Vulcan that their deaths would cause."

Archer slapped his palms down on the table and pushed away. "All right then, set course for Mondar Prime."


	2. Chapter 2

"May I join you, Lieutenant?"

With the day shift winding down and the night shift already at their posts, the mess hall was largely deserted and the perfect place for an Armory officer to review a murder investigation. Tucked away at a table in the corner, Malcolm had laid out the varying padds containing each report and, armed with a fresh - and very large -pot of Chef's gourmet-level coffee, was settled in for the long haul. He had all the space he needed, appropriate liquid fortification, and, he'd thought, little chance of being disturbed.

"Of course, Ensign," he lied affably as Hoshi and her hot chocolate took the seat across from him. "I'm afraid that I'll be poor company tonight. You and T'Pol seem so convinced that this gentleman is innocent that I thought it best to try going over the evidence again."

She nodded once, taking a tentative sip from her mug and making a face when it burned her tongue. "I might be able to help you with that," she said after a moment of fanning her face. "Provide a little context, I'm not exactly an expert on the Vulcans but..."

"You are since our resident expert is being typically closed-mouth about it all." Like most Vulcans, T'Pol kept her own counsel on largely everything and, even now, dodged his questions on matters she considered private. "Your help would be quite appreciated actually, you certainly possess a greater understanding of Vulcans than I."

She laughed. "Not by much, I promise you. The Vulcans are almost fanatical about privacy, especially personal privacy. So much so that their right to that privacy was enshrined by Surak in his _Analects_, he called it 'the Rule of Silences' and it covers a multitude of issues. Some things, T'Pol won't tell you because she doesn't want to, some of them she won't tell you because she _can't_."

Proof positive of how little he understood about Vulcan culture right there and Malcolm frowned at the thought of it. "Well then, that's certainly going to complicate matters with the investigation now isn't it? How can we expect to clear Skon's name if there are things that he can't answer and can we even be sure they'll answer honestly on other matters?"

"They won't lie, Malcolm," Hoshi promised, dropping ranks in the solemn moment. "They don't lie as much as possible; it's abhorrent in the Vulcan culture." She smiled quickly, teasing to lighten the moment, "Some people even say that Vulcans are incapable of lying."

"Some would say they are incapable of violence as well," he reminded, unable to keep his thoughts from going back to the matter at hand. "This Tal-Shaya that the report refers to does much to suggest otherwise." He didn't resist when she took the padd from him. "Quite vicious that one it seems."

"Actually, in ancient times, Tal-Shaya was considered a quick, merciful way to die," she commented absently as she scrolled through the report. "These days, it's still taught as part of tradition but, actually, that doesn't necessarily condemn Skon. Tal-Shaya literally means 'the breaking of the neck' and that's all it is. They snap the neck a certain way. Humans wouldn't be capable of it because most of us don't have the strength to snap a neck with one hand but, the inhabitants of Mondar Prime aren't humanoid...they're Vulcanoid. For all we know, they may share a common ancestry with the Vulcans."

"And coming from the same stock suggests they're physically capable of such an act." Malcolm agreed.

"Precisely!" Hoshi said cheerfully, presenting him with the padd she'd been carrying. "I thought you could use this. I collected all the articles written by both Skon and T'Vei I could find, they're both widely published on a number of planets. There's not a lot there that can help with the actual investigation but it'll help you get inside their heads a little."

He took the padd and set it with the others. "As much as anyone can get inside a Vulcan's head?"

"Well, yes," she looked amused. "I did highlight the papers T'Vei has written on the Vulcan body. There are a couple in there, I didn't read them all but a Vulcan's opinion on Vulcan physiology…" She shrugged.

Malcolm sighed. "They can't hurt, yes quite so if the Mondarians are as close physically to the Vulcans as you suggest." He smiled with some chagrin. "The entirety of the Mondarian population as potential subjects does much for reasonable doubt on Skon's part…however, narrowing it down may drive me mad."

Hoshi dimpled. "Aren't you glad I offered to help?"

* * *

The city would have been beautiful if not for the protestors outside, the architecture reminding T'Pol of pre-Reformation style. She would have liked to explore it at length but, clearly, current circumstances forbade such actions. It was unfortunate.

"Apologies, Captain Archer," the Vice Chancellor, a woman named Nidani, rushed into the room with a look of harassment on her face. "As you can imagine, it is growing increasingly difficult to control the situation. My people are screaming for the Vulcan's blood." Her expression became regretful which intrigued T'Pol. She had not observed any direct evidence in the status reports to indicate which way the Vice Chancellor's allegiances fell.

"No need to apologize, Vice Chancellor," the captain assured with a pleasant smile, playing up the role of affable diplomat just as they had discussed. If they were to gain access to Skon and his party, they would require the acquiescence of the Mondarian government. This woman could do much to, as the captain had said, grease the wheels. "It's quite understandable that your schedule would be off. It's a credit to your leadership that you've held things together this well for this long. It was my perception that things had escalated to near riots."

Nidani grimaced, taking seat at the council table and indicating they do the same. "We have managed to suppress them but it becomes more difficult by the hour to do so." She rubbed her forehead, suddenly weary and T'Pol found it disconcerting to observe. "And again, I must apologize, all I do is complain and don't even offer the courtesy of introductions." She shook her head ruefully. "I may only offer the excuse that it has been many days since I last slept more than scattered moments at a time."

It took a measure of control for T'Pol to withhold a comment on the Vice Chancellor's discipline. Such deprivation was easily managed by Vulcans on a regular basis, research frequently made such demands of them. But as a comment of that nature would likely not be received well by the Vice Chancellor and further damage the already weakened diplomatic ties between their peoples, she refrained.

"I am quite relieved to meet you all," the Vice Chancellor continued when the introductions were done. "With your presence, I am hoping that this will finally be resolved. Ordinarily, Captain, my people hold the truth in the highest of esteem. I fear, however, that it fell victim with the Chancellor."

The undercurrent in her voice brought a sharply-lifted brow from T'Pol. "You do not believe that Skon killed him?" The question was bluntly posed as she was not entirely convinced of what she was hearing but, perhaps, too much so as the captain murmured her name in warning.

There was no offense in Nidani's expression when she shook her head once in negative and responded, "I have not had many dealings with Skon but enough to know he is a man of peace. I cannot imagine that he would be capable of such a brutal killing. In truth, when I made the request of your government, Sub-Commander, I did so with the hopes that perhaps we would be able to introduce some of your philosophies to my people. I was fortunate to be gifted with a copy of Surak's _Analects _by one of your earlier envoys when he expressed an interest in the commonalities between our peoples. Having read it, I regret the fact we have no such teacher in our history."

Seeming to shake off the melancholy, she straightened. "That, however, is a discussion best kept for another time, I'm sure you wish to see Skon and the others. He is being kept here in the Chancellery, the others in an estate just outside the city. Seeing them may be difficult, the security services have proven themselves unwilling to follow my commands. Their commander, General Roual has designs on the Chancellery and he is not alone. The death of the Chancellor has touched off something of a power struggle, I'm afraid you may encounter difficulties because of it. I apologize for this but they are all fates bound to remove me as an obstacle to power, you may find yourselves victim to the lust for power."

"If I may ask, Vice Chancellor, are they well?" T'Pol interjected the question without warning, seeing no logic in attempting to completely disguise her concern. It was her chief interest and she would delay inquiry no longer. "They have not been harmed in any way?"

"Oh no!" Nidani looked horrified at the thought. "While the security services have defied my authority on some matters they have most certainly not on that. I would not permit mistreatment in any way, shape, or form. However he may attempt to keep you from seeing them, Roual is no fool. He is aware he may yet achieve power through the anti-alien sentiment among a faction of our people, he has but to wait. Until that day, he will wait patiently. He does not care if Skon is guilty or not, only that he may convince others he is and anything which would endanger his appearance of impropriety, he will not engage in. He will hamper your investigation where he may not be seen but he will not harm them."

"Well then, we'll consider ourselves lucky for that much," the captain smiled.

Looking more Vulcan than ever, Nidani did not.

* * *

"Well, that was a warmer welcome than I'd expected." Emerging from the council chambers, Archer made the comment as optimistically as he ever did. A look at his first officer told him he might have been optimistic but, as far as appearance could tell, T'Pol was not. He hadn't expected that she would be express any emotion on the matter, Vulcan control kept them secret from her features, but in her eyes he caught glimpses of something. Tiny snatches of anger, suspicion, and possibly even fear.

"The General will likely prove a troublesome obstacle," she said, looking up. "We may be able to beam Skon's party out if we are unable to see them but Skon himself will prove much more difficult to locate with the ship's sensors. A single Vulcan among Mondarians, it will be nearly impossible to discern between their bio signs."

"Planning a jailbreak?" He teased, smiling. "Maybe we should try something else, think Skon would know what to do if we send him a cake with a file baked inside?"

T'Pol looked at him blankly. "Captain, why should we wish to send him a confectionary with a carpentry implement as filling?"

He resisted the urge to snicker; frankly he deserved an award for his effort. "It's a long story; remind me to tell you sometime."

She turned back down the massive corridor, appearing to examine the carvings which decorated its walls. "Indeed I shall," was her response. "I suspect, as with many of your peculiarities, it will be a most interesting tale." The tone of her voice, he would never admit, sounded almost amused. A welcome change from the tension-filled T'Pol that had haunted Enterprise since Forrest's call. "But, please," she added suddenly, a sly undertone entering her words, "do not share it with Skon."

Determined to keep up the mood, he winked over his shoulder at Malcolm then grinned at T'Pol. "Why? Think he couldn't handle it?"

* * *

The Earthers had arrived, a complication not entirely unexpected. Though the most difficult aspect of murder lay in one's own morality, controlling the events after the fact was not without its own unique set of challenges. Mondar Prime's population did not number among them, both sides playing their roles perfectly, but Jonathan Archer just might. The Terran starship captain did not often concern himself with the wishes of his betters, he and his crew would likely require dealing with.

T'Pol...T'Pol did not require, she demanded.

She absolutely could not be permitted to interfere in any fashion. If, in any way, there was a death that would be considered unfortunate it would be hers. But, no matter. The situation left little room for negotiation of such. An outcome had to be assured and her presence on Mondar Prime endangered that outcome.

As she would say, logic dictated a specific action.

Regrettable though it was.

* * *

When the captain suggested his plan, T'Pol found it to be massively unwise and knew that was most certainly why the captain was so confident that it would work. Humans seemed to have the belief encoded into their genetic makeup that the more unorthodox a plan could be considered then the greater its odds of success. At every available opportunity, they would inevitably scheme and plan until a sufficiently unrealistic scenario occurred to them which they would immediately implement. Captain Archer was not, unfortunately, immune to his genetics.

As they approached the wing of the Chancellery where Skon was being held, the captain's step grew decidedly jaunty and there seemed to be a twinkle of what his people would call devilment in his eye.

He was enjoying this. She would have commented so but they were within earshot of the security operatives guarding the door so, instead, T'Pol turned to Lieutenant Reed. "Your men will remain outside - you are, of course, aware what is required."

Reed took the instructions as he did any order she had ever given him, nodding and giving no sign of the truth. "Aye, Sub-Commander, I most certainly do." His response was almost regulation perfect but T'Pol saw the familiar twinkle in his eye. 'Indeed.'

The captain was not alone in his thirst for adventure. Really, it was a miracle any of them had survived this long. She was beginning to develop a hypothesis that, without her presence, they would not have made it as far as they had. It was worth consideration to submit a proposal to the High Command; a Vulcan serving in some capacity could potentially do much to curb the humans natural self-destructive instincts.

In theory.

With the glee Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed were approaching their current charade, there was strong evidence to the contrary. She considered it fortunate that she had convinced them to at least clear their intentions with the Vice Chancellor beforehand. Had they not done so, she could only imagine, it would have proven itself to be quite...difficult.

"I'm Captain Jonathan Archer, from the Enterprise, Vice Chancellor Nidani assured me and my party we would be able to speak with the Vulcan prisoner." The captain smiled confidently at the guards as they came to a stop.

A period of thirty five point two zero three seconds passed while the guards contemplated the veracity of the assertion. It would not do, of course, for them to appear to eager to acquiesce to it.

"Enterprise," one Mondarian guard spoke up, keying a code into the door panel. "The Earth ship." He nodded. "You may not stay long."

The captain beamed another grin at them. "Oh don't worry, we won't be staying long at all." His good humor was confusing the guards, their reactions plain for any and all to see. T'Pol did not believe she would ever find Mondarian behavior to be anything but vastly disconcerting, such lack of control was viewed by Vulcans to be at its best highly offensive.

"You are enjoying this," she murmured to the captain as they entered Skon's chamber.

"Damn straight."

* * *

For a man accused of a cold-blooded killing, Skon looked almost relaxed. The room was as Spartan as any jail cell could be expected but the Vulcan scientist seemed unconcerned by his surroundings. Far from being troubled, the tall man appeared quite comfortable on the pallet provided him, fingers steepled in meditative posture.

Jon felt a moment of (highly illogical, as T'Pol would say) regret at disturbing him then Skon turned his head and met his gaze, ending it.

"Captain, Sub-Commander," soft-spoken, the Vulcan rose to greet them with a respectful nod of his head. "I had suspected that it would be you - I am honored to meet you both."

From just behind him, Jon heard T'Pol speak in a voice faintly tinged with the shadows of awe. "It is we who are the honored." This was V'lar times ten for her and he should have known an actual meeting with Skon would have been a little nerve-wracking. "However regrettable the circumstances are."

Skon released a sigh. "Indeed."

"Look, we haven't got a lot of time so, uh, forgive me for this." Palming his communicator, Jon reached out with his free hand to draw T'Pol along as he stepped closer to Skon. "The Vice Chancellor warned us that the guards would call General Roual as soon as we stepped in here. My people might slow them down a bit but they can't be too obvious about it."

"It is likely they would," Skon affirmed. "The General has been quite vocal in his desire to see me suitably punished for my 'crimes'. He is not at all, however, interested in actual proof of my culpability."

"Which is pretty common in banana republics," Jon muttered to himself as he brought the communicator to his mouth. "Archer to Enterprise." Focusing on the task at hand kept him from a snort of highly inappropriate laughter at the bewildered looks which passed between the Vulcans at his words. Some days he really loved his job.

"Enterprise; you ready, Captain?"

"We're ready, you get the coordinates yet?"

"Vice Chancellor sent 'em along about ten minutes ago."

"Good, energize." Flipping the communicator shut, he smiled cheerfully at Skon. "We thought you might appreciate taking the transporter out for a test drive."

Again the Vulcan's brow furrowed with confusion. "I do not understand your--" The rest of his comment was swallowed by the transporter beam as General Roual opened the door to an empty room.

* * *

"Most disconcerting," Skon decided as they rematerialized. "Useful, but most disconcerting."

"Try doing it at a dead run," The captain's dry rejoinder was a reminder T'Pol was not in particular need of and she banished the unwelcome memories in favor of the slightly horrified expression finding its way onto her fellow Vulcan's face.

"That would not be appropriate parameters for the transporter's use, Captain." Skon said after a brief elaboration on the captain's part, explaining the incident's particulars. "I would have to give the data further consideration but you are, as your kind would say, a lucky sonuvabitch."

Unaware as he was of Skon's fascination with Earth and its peculiar inhabitants, T'Pol was well prepared for Archer's reaction. Skon, however, raised a brow at the strangled sound he produced. "Are you quite well, Captain?"

"Fine, I'm, I'm fine." Archer waved him off, clearing his throat and rubbing at watery eyes. "Just, uh," he coughed again, "caught me a little off guard."

"My apologies," Skon said politely, watching him. "I had not realized my words were inappropriate."

The captain was on the verge of answering when the sound of shoe against stone drew the attention of both Vulcans away from their companion just mere moments before a slim woman emerged from a small antechamber. For a moment, T'Pol was uncertain of her identity then her mind put name to face.

Lady T'Vei, Skon's bondmate.

"Skon?"

T'Pol thought it understandable that he seemed to forget their presence, walking forward to greet his wife with outstretched fingers. In an effort to provide them privacy, she walked a few steps away with the captain following. He said nothing but she could feel the curiosity radiating from him and took that as the unasked question it was.

"His wife," she responded quietly in abbreviated explanation. She would naturally, offer further explanation at a more appropriate time, for this moment there was

The captain took the explanation with a nod of acceptance, leaving it at that. "We're going to need to get our own security details down here," he said, moving away from the conversation and providing her with a focus. "With respect to the Vice Chancellor, I'm not sure I trust any Mondarian with these people's safety."

He was not sure, T'Pol was. Of the Mondarian people, she trusted none of them in any way with the safety of Skon, or his people. "Agreed." It was regrettable that they had been unable to convince the Vice Chancellor to allow them to beam the expedition members back to Enterprise. Regrettable but not out of comprehension, Nidani had been right in her assertions. There was nothing to stop them from leaving and, should it leak out, nothing to keep the people of Mondar Prime from all out riot.

None of them wished to be the cause of further bloodshed.

"Captain; Sub-Commander," Skon's summons brought them both round to face him and his wife. "Allow me to introduce T'Vei, she who is my wife."

Almost as tall as her husband, T'Vei inclined her head in welcome. Though not born of a family as influential as her husband, she was indeed noble born. T'Pol could have thought they were in the family's Shi'Kahr estate by her manner. "I am in your debt," she began, "you have returned my husband to my side."

"Don't thank us yet, ma'am," the captain said wryly. "We still have to prove he's innocent and I can promise you the Mondarians aren't going to make it easy."

T'Pol looked at him with restrained amusement. "You would be insulted if they did so."

* * *

Well, this wasn't going to be awkward at all.

Questioning one of Vulcan's leading citizens about his potential involvement in a murder, no in no way was that going to be even remotely uncomfortable. With Skon and T'Vei sitting across from him, both watching him patiently, while T'Pol fidgeted - well, as close as she got - at his side, he was acutely aware of just how precarious the situation was.

The only chance of preventing a major intergalactic incident and saving a man's life rested squarely on his shoulders.

_As Grandpa used to say, no pressure..._

He resisted the urge to sigh and then leaned forward. "You know I don't want to ask this but - "

"Did I have anything to do with the Chancellor's death?" Skon finished for him, the expression on his face suggesting understanding. "I did not." Steepling his fingers before him, the Vulcan mathematician appeared to turn his focus inward. A suspicion confirmed moments later when he began recounting that night. "As you know from the reports, the Council had been debating a potential expansion of the project; originally, we had intended only to launch a small number of satellites but circumstances dictated a larger number. I was asked to explain the necessity of the change and the calculations we used to reach the determination it was required."

He looked faintly aggrieved, frustrated by the Mondarian reluctance. "They were not receptive to the idea. Somehow, they had come to the belief that we were acting on the order of our own High Council to place monitoring devices within the satellites. Those devices would then transmit information back to Vulcan, allowing our military services to observe their every activity."

"The Chancellor believed this?" T'Pol asked, her voice soft, she had a faint look of displeasure about her features. She was not handling this well but she was handling it better than he'd expected from her behavior on the ship.

"No," Skon shook his head. "He did not. He had his reservations about our work but he did not believe the stories, dismissing them as paranoid gossip stirred up by his political rivals. We discussed the matter after the session; by the end of that meeting I had come to believe we might yet persuade him to our side." He lifted a brow, something Jon was beginning to think passed as a grin among Vulcans. "Hardly the appropriate time for me to murder him, don't you agree Captain?"

He held in a chuckle out of deference but the look T'Pol flicked his way suggested she was more than aware of his amusement. Oh the things she tolerated from him, a thought that nearly brought a smirk to his face. "Hardly. I don't suppose anyone witnessed that?"

That clearly perplexed the Vulcan and he sat back. "Unfortunately not and I doubt the Mondarian security would simply trust my assurances."

"Would that they were so agreeable," T'Vei gestured. "Captain, it is unlikely that anything we discuss here will change the matter at hand."

"Not on the surface of it," he answered honestly. "But we've figured things out from less, madam; I can assure you of that much. Is there anything that comes to mind about any of this that seems...wrong? Something out of place, doesn't have to be a big thing, doesn't have to be anything concrete. Maybe just...a hunch?"

"I am not familiar with the etymology of that word." The Vulcan woman frowned as much as Vulcans ever did as she spoke. "Please explain?"

"A hypothesis that has little basis, you will find, Lady, that humans are quite fond of them." T'Pol interjected to explain. "They often refer to it as 'going with your gut', following one's own instincts." Her tone bespoke volumes as to her opinion of that particular Terran habit. "It is...occasionally useful."

"Occasionally," he agreed, not quite able to hide the grin of merriment this time. "Like now. Whoever's setting you up, Skon; they know what they're doing. "

"Indeed," Skon bobbed his head in a brief nod. "It has been most methodically executed..."

"Which suggests a Vulcan might actually be behind it." That was said with more than a little reluctance, which surprised him. He genuinely didn't want to believe that any of them had taken part in this and he knew himself well enough to know that wouldn't have been the case two years before. A Vulcan violating the tenets they claimed to live by so entirely, betraying everything they claimed to revere, it would have proven him right. It would have been a vindication for him.

It wasn't anymore.

"It does." T'Pol affirmed, "The efficiency of the planning suggests that..." she hesitated, looking T'Vei and Skon. They looked back with somber expressions on their faces, a silent conversation passing between them.

"What?" Archer prompted, looking from one to the other. "What is it?" He met T'Pol's gaze, trying to seek the truth in her eyes.

"There is the matter that no Vulcan would behave in this fashion," she began. "It violates everything Surak taught, everything we revere. The method of murder, the execution of the murder, suggests a Vulcan...everything else does not."

"It would appear, Captain," Skon said mildly, "we have something of a paradox."


	3. Chapter 3

"No offense intended, Jon, but you look like shit." Standing in his best friend's ready room, Trip leaned forward to rest his hands on the desk. "It that bad down there?"

He watched Jon pick up the coffee he'd brought him, holding it up like the smell alone would fortify him. "Yes and no." Taking a swallow, the captain sat back and mulled it over. "The Mondarians are one wrong move away from a planetary riot; the Vice Chancellor's barely holding things together, and for all we know she's behind everything; some General is already trying to gain power; and the Vulcans think a Vulcan is behind it except for the fact no Vulcan would behave like that so they have no idea who it could be."

"So it's a damn mess and it's just getting messier," Trip said, summing the situation up matter-of-factly, knowing Jon would appreciate the rare moment of frank honesty from a member of his crew.

"About that, yeah." The sigh that followed the words did a lot more to illustrate the situation than anything that the captain could have said. "This is going to be one hell of an intergalactic incident if we don't nip it in the bud."

"Any chance we will?" He asked, despite having a pretty good idea just what the answer was going to be. A lowly engineer he might be but he'd had plenty of time to figure out intergalactic politics, they ran from bad, to worse, to bend over kiss your ass good bye awful. Something said this one was going to require serious ass kissing and he gestured, waving off the statement. "Don't answer that, don't need to jinx it."

"Don't think we need to worry about jinxing it," Jon answered before taking a big swallow of the coffee. "That's already been done." He stood up. "We've managed a few breaks, if we're lucky we might get a few more."

Trip took a step back, falling silent as his friend wandered to the view port to look at the planet below. He could forget, sometimes, the kind of weight that Jon operated under from day to day. The responsibility of everyone aboard ship resting on his shoulders, every decision having to be considered with that weight pressing down. Days like this, missions like this, were too sharp a reminder.

"They're going to kill him if we don't figure this out, Trip," Jon commented, not turning away from the visage before him. "They're going to butcher an innocent man and I'll be the one responsible for it."

That he couldn't let pass by silently. "The Vulcans can't blame you –"

"Doesn't matter whether or not they do," the captain said. "What matters is I will blame me. The Vulcans, Skon...T'Pol, they're all depending on me to get him out of this and I don't know if I can or not." He thumped a fist on the wall, a minor sign of the frustration that had to be roiling in his gut. "He's innocent, Trip. I can feel it, he's innocent."

"Well," Trip began, trying to pick his words as carefully as possible, "if he is then we're just going to have to figure it out." He crossed the room to stand with his friend. "WE will, Captain, nobody on this ship works alone. Not even you."

* * *

When Phlox came to him with his request, Jon didn't know whether to laugh or cry and suspected his blood pressure would dictate his choice.

"We need to examine the body ourselves, Captain," the Denobulan repeated calmly. "T'Vei is a renowned healer and the medical officer of the Vulcan expedition – none of her staff is nearly as qualified to give opinion on this."

"She's also the wife of the accused, Phlox," Jon pointed out, leaning on his desk. "I can't see the Vice Chancellor permitting her to be the one that examines the body. Even if we make a case for the Vulcans being that damn honest, it's still going to be highly improper – "

"I am aware of that, Captain," Phlox told him. "But that does not negate the fact the Lady T'Vei is the only one with the proper qualifications to examine him. The Mondarians will, of course, have their own expert. I am merely asking that she be allowed to accompany us."

Jon rubbed his forehead. "All right, all right," he agreed and, a moment later, Vice Chancellor Nidani looked at them from the small screen on his desk.

"Captain," she said upon hearing the request, "I have no objections to your Doctor examining the Chancellor's remains but – You must understand that I can't say yes to the rest. I do not mean to impugn the Lady's character but she is a Vulcan and the wife of the accused. An opportunity alone with the Chancellor's body is impossible. What if she were to tamper with the evidence? We cannot take such a chance."

"With respect, Madame," Phlox said. "It would be very difficult for her to do that. T'Vei will have no time alone with the body and, therefore, have no opportunity to do that."

"Vice Chancellor, Doctor Phlox is correct. Even were she to attempt anything untoward, the situation will make it next to impossible. To avoid any attempts at altering readings, she will be using equipment provided by your medical personnel as well as Enterprise." Jon said patiently. "Phlox is right on another thing; we have no experts on Vulcan physiology other than the Vulcans in the expedition and no time to wait for another one to come by ship. I'm told the protests are getting worse, if we wait…" He let the sentence hang, hoping the implications would be enough to convince her. They really did have no time to wait for another Vulcan to be sent. The reports Hoshi had been feeding him suggested the situation on the planet was disintegrating by the hour.

Nidani sighed and nodded. "If we wait, there could be chaos." She frowned. "All right, Captain, I will permit the Lady T'Vei to accompany Doctor Phlox. But be warned, if she _does _attempt to tamper with evidence, she will not be the only one to face the consequences."

Jon nodded. "We wouldn't expect any less." The screen went black and he looked at Phlox. "I'd say that was too easy but she's right. Figure this out, Phlox, and figure it out fast. We don't have a hell of a lot of time here. This goes on much longer and they'll be dragging Skon through the streets."

Phlox nodded. "Understood, Captain."

* * *

As soon as the transporter effect faded, Phlox found himself face to face with a tall, elegant Vulcan woman. Dressed as she was in the robes of a healer, he knew her immediately and beamed a wide smile of hello. "Ah! Lady T'Vei, it's wonderful to meet you at last! I've read a number of your research papers, quite remarkable work, quite remarkable! We really must discuss it later, I've had occasion to consult with your work...most helpful!"

"Thank you, Doctor," she replied, inclining her head in respect. "I would be gratified to speak with you as well; news of your discoveries on the Enterprise has caused quite a stir among our colleagues on Vulcan. I should like to confer about them but, at this particular juncture, we have a more pressing concern to address."

Phlox nodded, the reminder bringing a moment's consternation. "Yes, quite. I understand, Captain Archer persuaded the Vice Chancellor to allow us a limited examination of the victim." He understood plenty as he had been present when the captain had negotiated that access. He did not say as much, not wanting to reveal the fact that T'Vei had been barely permitted access. The fact that Phlox himself was Denobulan and not Starfleet had done much to allay the Mondarians' concerns.

He didn't say it but he didn't need to. The understanding of it was in T'Vei's eyes as the silence stretched out between them. "Indeed," she said to break the silence and he watched her remove her outer robe and hang it on a provided hook. "I am aware, Doctor, that your captain's arranging of my presence was no minor feat. Please, Doctor, feel no need to reassure me, I quite understand the Mondarians' logic on this matter."

"He did have trouble," Phlox admitted reluctantly. "However, I have very little experience with Tal-Shaya in comparison with you. I confess, Vulcan's martial arts have never factored into my studies and I need your expertise if we're going to figure this out."

She nodded her acceptance of his logic then looked to a tall, thin Mondarian man emerging from a side room. He looked at them both with a nervous manner, "Greetings to you both," his voice holding a faint tremor which betrayed his emotional state even more than his mannerisms. "I am Physician Lumal, I will be observing your work. I apologize for my intrusion but I am afraid they insisted it be done." Neither Phlox nor his companion inquired as to just who 'they' were, they both knew only too well.

"No need to apologize!" Phlox said with his most reassuring grin, sweeping forward to usher Lumal back the way he had come. "Politics are the concern of politicians, we are doctors, our only concern is to our patients and one awaits us."

The Chancellor awaited them on a table in the center of the cavernous room. Here the trappings of power were non-existent, the most powerful man on the planet was no different than a pauper.

"Have you run any preliminary scans on the body?" Phlox prompted with interest as T'Vei produced a scanner for the job. "There may be evidence still on the epidermis if luck is with us." Leaning over the body, he considered the lurid bruising that marked the cause of death, one could make out the distinct shape of a hand. "Hmmmm...if you'll permit me to judge by the severity of the markings, T'Vei, it appears to have been a swift but unnecessarily brutal death."

"You speak as though such a discovery is significant," Lumal said in confusion. "It is a murder, such things are usually marked by unnecessary violence."

"Not when the suspected perpetrator is a Vulcan," Phlox explained, straightening up. "It is extremely unlikely for one of them to commit a crime so extreme as murder. On the rare occasion that it does indeed occur, they still behave in a highly logical fashion. A Vulcan would view excess violence as an unnecessary expenditure of resources and energy. Dead, as my human crewmates would say, is dead."

"But if a Vulcan has already betrayed their most sacred beliefs to commit the act, then what does it matter the force of it?"

"It goes to the state of their mind," T'Vei now put in, speaking before Phlox could say the same. "You must understand, Lumal that in the time before Surak my people were ruthless, violent, but still very logical. Ours is a harsh and unforgiving climate, to waste anything unnecessarily was to invite death. Such survival instincts have been passed down on the subconscious level even to this day. Any Vulcan who would ignore those instincts and commit an act like this with such extreme violence would be a severely disturbed individual indeed."

"And such mental illness would be readily apparent to the other Vulcans in the party as well as to any medical scans administered." Phlox added this when she paused. "Now, I have not examined Skon myself but T'Vei is both his wife and a physician. She has not reported any such indicators in his behavior."

"There have been none," she affirmed. "If such illness existed in him, I would have observed and dealt with it before the Chancellor's death. Indeed, likely before we had left Vulcan. I am not so concerned for my husband's reputation that I would endanger lives to protect it."

Lumal took in the explanation with a contemplative look but that was all, when he looked up again he had the face of a man who was intrigued but did not entirely believe. "You suggest an interesting point," he turned to make a notation on a file. "I am afraid I lack the understanding of Vulcan psychology necessary to make any determinations on the basis of it. But it must be taken into consideration nevertheless." It was the best he could offer, Phlox suspected, and he smiled broadly in response.

"Wonderful, progress!" He announced, producing his own scanner and held it over the bruised area on the Chancellor's neck. "Now, with this much force we stand a very good chance of finding DNA." There would hopefully be a rather substantial amount of genetic material if the attacker had not worn gloves. If he had, such chances were diminished but not entirely eliminated.

Phlox had learned to never entirely rule anything out. Which is likely why, when the room exploded he was not entirely surprised.

* * *

"You are fidgeting, Lieutenant," T'Pol observed quietly, without looking up from the screen of the padd in her hand and heard Reed chuckle in response.

"I'm afraid, Sub-Commander, I am not nearly as skilled in patience as a Vulcan," he admitted, turning to check the hall for the tenth time in 2.65 standard minutes. She had observed in the past that Lieutenant Reed's skill in waiting tended to vacillate with his position in the situation. The greater control over events that he commanded, the more patient he could afford to be. In this situation, alas, their control was limited. They could do nothing but wait until Phlox and T'Vei returned with their findings.

T'Pol and Skon had, as was typical, accepted this logically and retired to the estate's library to begin a review of the evidence given to them. Reed had followed along, insisting that with the General's troops searching the planet for Skon it was not safe for them to be alone.

His reasoning was sound and he had taken up position at the open door to keep watch but, T'Pol nearly felt amusement over his thinly-veiled impatience. She lifted her gaze to Skon, who sat across the table from her, with the intention of commenting further but stopped at the look on his face.

Something was wrong. She did not know immediately what but it quickly became apparent when Skon stood sharply, the padd in his hands clattering noisily to the floor. "T'Vei..." The name of his mate spilled from his lips in a hoarse whisper as he grabbed for the back of a chair.

T'Pol held up a hand to forestall the advancement of Lieutenant Reed into the room. "No," she ordered. "It is an instinctual reaction, Lieutenant; I cannot guarantee he would not view your presence as challenge."

Reed gave her a confused, questioning look but stayed where he was. Keeping watchful eye on Skon, she circled out around him and toward the lieutenant. Reed had carefully drawn his phase pistol but wisely had not leveled it at the Vulcan.

Removing her communicator from her uniform, T'Pol looked at Reed before opening it. "Sub-Commander T'Pol to Enterprise, has something happened to the Lady T'Vei?" It was as much confirmation as question.

Ensign Sato's surprised response came back immediately with, "Yes, actually, there was an explosion at the medical facility. We just brought T'Vei and Phlox to sickbay."

An unpleasant sensation settled into T'Pol's stomach at the implication in the words. Though it was little better than a symbolic gesture, she turned away from Skon and brought the communicator closer to her mouth. "Injuries?"

There was a pause while the ensign confirmed the injuries. T'Pol reminded herself that there was no logical reason to correlate the length of silence with the severity of injury.

"Lumal, the Mondarian doctor, isn't expected to survive his people are working on him. Doctor Phlox has just a minor head injury, Lady T'Vei's injuries are more severe but she's stable, a Vulcan healer named Sorahl is treating her with the help of one of his subordinates." Hoshi was quick to assure, "Her prognosis is good."

Which was, as the humans would say, a relief but it was not news that would do much to reassure her husband. Skon was reacting to her subconscious mind's survival instinct. In his present state, such explanations would be difficult at best. It was fortunate, if one could call it that, he had not lashed out as she had expected and remained by the table.

"Understood," T'Pol gave no reaction other than that but considered her next order before giving it. "We require transport to Enterprise. The Mondarian security will not permit us to use a shuttle therefore the transporter is required."

Despite knowing the Mondarians would be furious if Skon were transported to Enterprise, T'Pol hesitated.

"Beam us up," she ordered and flipped the communicator shut.

* * *

After relaying the Sub-Commander's order, Hoshi removed the ear bud and sat back with some trepidation. She really didn't want to do this.

"I know I don't have to say it," Travis commented, sounding sympathetic, "but the Captain? He's going to be _pissed_."

She sighed, nodding as she pushed away from her console. "Probably and that is why I am going to tell him in person before he runs into them. I'm pretty sure the Vulcans wouldn't like it if he strangles T'Pol." That and if everything was about to blow up in his face, the captain deserved to know before it did. "Though, if this goes the way I think it's going to they might not care if he does."

Stopping at the lift, she turned back and pointed at him. "If the Mondarians call? Don't say anything just..." she waved her hand. "Stall for me okay?"

He squeaked out something but she didn't linger long enough to let him finish it. No time like the present to throw herself to the lions.

* * *

"She did what?!" Archer felt a twinge of regret when Hoshi's face winced at the tone of his voice but, he decided, she'd forgive him all things being equal. "Hoshi," he swallowed another shout and moderated his tone, "You, she…T'Pol actually beamed Skon _aboard_?"

The Mondarians were going to kill him.

A belief Hoshi shared given the look of foreboding on her face. "Yessir," she said quickly, nodding once. "According to Lieutenant Hess, they just beamed aboard and they're on the way here now…" she hesitated and he caught his breath, hoping. There had to be a damned good reason T'Pol would endanger the Mondarian government's good will, there _had _to be. He was going to need it when the Vice Chancellor tried to relieve him of his vital organs.

"Ensign?" He prompted, pushing her to continue. "What did Hess say?"

"She thinks there's something wrong with Skon, sir," she revealed. "She really couldn't tell what was wrong but, something was off and…T'Pol wasn't surprised by the news about Lady T'Vei. I think she knew somehow that something had happened."

She wasn't the only one. What Jonathan Archer knew of the Vulcans' telepathic abilities was limited, second-hand information at best but going on it, he had a feeling Skon's reaction had everything to do with his wife's injuries.

He exhaled heavily and looked to Trip. "Want me to get the Vice Chancellor on the line?" asked his friend with a wry grin. "Head this off before she finds out through her people and we have serious hell to pay?"

"Yes, Hoshi, you go with him, I want to know what the reaction is when this gets out." Archer turned back, watching Phlox and the healer work. "Can't stop all hell from breaking out but the General…"

He did not want T'Pol's concern for her compatriots to be the excuse for the general to make his grab for power. A military coup was the dead last thing they wanted, or needed.

Both Trip and Hoshi nodded sharply before rushing toward the lift and the bridge. He envied them their purpose, at the moment he felt like the best he could do was stand about and wring his hands. The frustration of having no control whatsoever was burning a hole in his gut.

"Captain!"

He turned at T'Pol's call to see Skon charging through the corridor with T'Pol and Reed barely able to keep up. The look in the formerly calm scientist's eyes was unnerving to say the least.

'Nobody's home,' he realized and took a reflexive step back and away from the doors even as T'Pol called out an order to do the same.

Skon charged past him without so much as a look and, inside sickbay, Archer caught a glimpse of the healer jerking Phlox away from T'Vei's unconscious form.

"It is instinct," T'Pol murmured breathlessly, reaching his side. "The connection between spouses…he was aware of her injuries, subconsciously she would have cried out to him with her fear and her pain." She straightened herself up, regaining the composure lost in the mad dash to reach Sickbay. "Beneath all our logic, Captain, the Vulcan heart is…"

"That," he finished for her, nodding. As demonstrations went, he couldn't imagine one that would put any finer a point on it. "Understood."

He waved both of them closer as he explained, "Trip's gone to try and head this off with the Mondarians. I know this is probably one of those things that Vulcans don't like talking about, Sub-Commander, but you may have to explain to the Vice Chancellor the very same things you told me. We're not going to get out from under the fact we summarily plucked him off the planet without even telling them about it first."

"I am aware, Captain," she affirmed, nodding. "I also apologize for the lack of warning. There was no other way to do it, however…"

"Believe me, T'Pol," Archer waved a hand at Skon, now holding his wife's hand between his and looking a good deal calmer. "After that demonstration, I'm not going to argue the point."

"The explosion, sir," Reed interjected, redirecting the conversation. "Are my…"

"They beamed down the minute we were notified," said Archer. "Time is of the essence here so we didn't waste any. This is our chance to prove Skon's not behind it."

"Then it was definitely sabotage?"

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "We're expecting answers from the team soon but if you ask me? It looks too much like sabotage and the timing is too suspicious for me to think it was purely accidental. As morbid as this may sound, this explosion might turn out to be the best kind of luck for us."

He watched T'Pol and Reed consider the point before T'Pol nodded her agreement. "Indeed, it is logical that the assassin was concerned we would discover something on the body and acted to prevent such."

"And given how he reacted," Reed added, "there's no way that you can convince me that Skon would have endangered his wife's safety in this fashion. If, that is, she was injured as badly as was suggested."

"She was," said Archer solemnly. "She took quite the blow to the head and has numerous internal injuries caused by the blast. According to Phlox and the healer, she's going to be out of it for a while. Something about the body's natural healing abilities?"

He turned questioning eyes on T'Pol who seemed almost amused by the question. Almost. "Yes, it is likely that the pain of the injuries was more than enough to allow Lady T'Vei to enter a healing trance. It is a natural reaction of the Vulcan body to severe trauma, we are able to use and focus the pain to guide our bodies into a deep meditative state where we may heal more quickly. It is not commonly used in modern medicine with the frequency that it once was; our technological level no longer requires it. But in a situation such as this one, it is not surprising that the trance would be used."

"A healing trance," Reed marveled around a chuckle. "What else are you lot hiding underneath those ears?"

Archer nearly chuckled at the superior lift of T'Pol's brow which was, as usual, answer enough.


	4. Chapter 4

The Lady T'Vei had survived the bombing - unfortunate. It was not un-anticipated; his simulations had suggested with the size of the explosion that concussive force would not be successful in neutralizing all occupants of the room. Each time, the positioning of T'Vei, the Denobulan, and the Mondarian physician had dictated survival and severity of injury versus fatality.

Who would die, regrettable though it was, would depend on luck. The outcome had proven why luck had never been a concept popular among his kind.

Nevertheless, the Chancellor's body was destroyed and all evidence with him. At the very least that would solicit the amount of time needed to deal with other equally unfortunate developments.

T'Pol would not be among them at present. As he had anticipated, the Lady's injury had necessitated her reunion with her husband which also necessitated T'Pol accompanying him to Enterprise. They were both beyond reach for a time and would be dealt with later.

They would indeed be dealt with. He had waited long, patience was a familiar companion.

* * *

"You look impatient." Hoshi's lightly amused comment brought Reed's head up and away from the readouts on the armory's console.

"Do I?" He looked rueful. "Yes, well, I suppose that I do." He gestured at the console. "My people are examining the site and I'm here…"

"And you can't go down there without it looking like you're hanging over their shoulder and don't trust them," she nodded, crossing the room to stand with him. "It's the eternal curse of the commanding officer always trying to strike a balance between your involvement and your people's room to work freely on the problem. I don't know how the captain does it."

"Can't say myself," he sighed out. "Don't think I'll ever chase after the command track, I'm hardly patient enough to manage it all the time. I've realigned the targeting sensors three times."

She grinned at his exasperation and he grinned back, glad for the momentary distraction from his own frustration. They'd been down there for several hours, including the time that he'd spent in sickbay with the captain and the time he'd spent in the armory. The whole situation was proving to be positively maddening; he did not handle being on the sidelines well at all. Found it frustrating as all hell if he were to be truthful. "You can never realign the sensors too many times," she pointed out. "The better they are, the better our chances."

"Are you implying, Ensign, that I am a bad shot?" He raised a brow.

"Oh no," Hoshi said, laughing. "I'd never even imply anything of the sort, since my continued survival rests in your hands and all."

Malcolm chuckled. "Excellent recovery," he said. "Tell me, have you heard anything from the Mondarians?"

She looked pained. "They're furious that we beamed Skon up here. They want to send some of their own security people up to 'escort' him until such time as we return him to the planet." She frowned. "The captain was in his ready room, trying to talk them out of it when I came down here. I don't think it's going very well."

"None of this has gone very well," Malcolm said. "From the get go, it's been one disaster after another almost. It's as if the real killer is out there somewhere, plotting strategy against us."

She nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Riker to Lieutenant Reed."

Malcolm perked up, hand darting out to tap the console. "Reed here, what do you have for me, Ensign?"

"A DNA sample, sir," Riker sounded stunned. "We found the Lady T'Vei's scanner and, Lieutenant; she scanned the Chancellor's body before the explosion. We've got the killer's DNA and, sir; you aren't going to like it."

* * *

"The DNA is Vulcan." T'Pol repeated, surveying the results on her screen. "Have you told the Mondarians of this development? They should be made aware of the confirmation of the killer's species."

"Yes." Captain Archer nodded. "I'm sorry but I felt they should know right away."

"Indeed," she said.

"I'm sorry, T'Pol," he said. "I know you didn't want to believe it could be possible."

She looked up, her face carefully impassive. "On the contrary, Captain, I believe it is highly possible that a Vulcan would commit this crime. The perpetrator has behaved in a fairly logical, if highly improper, fashion throughout this matter. I am not disputing the fact that it was a member of my race, I merely dispute the fact that it was Skon. With the discovery of this DNA sample, we are now in a position wherein we are able to prove that."

"We just need a DNA sample from Skon." Archer said. "Who we just happen to have on board," he grinned, looking relieved. "It's about damn time some luck went our way." He grabbed up the PADD he'd been carrying when he'd come onto the bridge. "Hoshi, call the Mondarians, tell the Vice Chancellor we're going to want to see her and that we'll be in her office shortly."

T'Pol watched as he rushed toward the lift, then she looked at Hoshi. "You can tell the Vice Chancellor, Ensign Sato, that it will be _very_ shortly."

The Communications Officer grinned and nodded. "Understood, Sub-Commander, and good luck with the test."

"I require no such dependence on the whims of a mythical force, Ensign," T'Pol said. "The DNA will either confirm, or disprove, that Skon was the attacker. There is no need for 'luck' to play a hand in this at all."

Within herself, T'Pol felt a hint of amusement at the expression on the young woman's face. "No, of course not," Hoshi said, straightening up. "What was I thinking?"

T'Pol raised a brow and said, almost indulgently, "A most human thought, Ensign." Inclining her head, she turned to follow the captain. She would never admit such to her comrades but, with the discovery of the DNA sample, she felt a certain lightness in her step.

* * *

"I have the results of the DNA analysis, Captain," Phlox said, meeting the captain next to the transporter. "The rest of the Vulcan party all willingly supplied their DNA, including Sub-Commander T'Pol. I told her there was no need but – "

Archer grinned. "Yes, she insisted." He held out his hand, indicating the transporter pad. "And we all know, arguing with a Vulcan is a lesson in futility."

"I would disagree with that sentiment, Captain," T'Pol said, walking up. "You have certainly demonstrated proficiency for debating Vulcans in the past."

"That's because I get so much practice," Archer returned. "All those years arguing with you and Soval."

She gave him a look that he privately called indulgent amusement. "You seem to have paid much attention in those encounters, Captain."

"Had to," he said. "Matter of survival." He looked down at Trip, manning the transporter console, "Anytime you're ready, Mr. Tucker."

The grinning engineer nodded. "Have a good time."

Archer looked at him. "At least you didn't say fun."

"That was my next choice, sir," he said, sobering. "Just watch your backs all right? I've got the feeling they're none too happy about this."

Archer nodded. He didn't think they were going to be either. "Best part of diplomacy," he said. "Both parties end up miserable. Energize."

In a matter of seconds, he was face to face with the Mondarian Vice Chancellor and the entire High Council. It would seem they were in the mood to pull out the big guns for this.

"You have identified the killer?" Nidani wasted no time with pleasantries, asking the question as soon as they had materialized, and Archer didn't think he could blame her. The shouts of the protestors outside were muffled by the stone architecture of the Chancellery but were still louder than before.

"Yes," he nodded. "Lieutenant Reed's people recovered the Lady T'Vei's scanner from the wreckage." Reed held up the scanner at his nod. "Lieutenant, why don't you explain to the Vice Chancellor just what was discovered on it?"

Reed stepped forward, moving up to stand beside him. "It is worth noting that the scanner was damaged by the explosion and some data was lost. However, we were still able to recover a unique DNA profile within the memory." He looked at Phlox briefly. "According to Doctor Phlox who was in attendance when the scan was preformed, the profile was discovered in skin cells located on the Chancellor's neck. They were likely transferred during the assassination. We suspect that the samples and any records relating to them were the actual target behind the explosion and not the medical staff performing the autopsy. Killing them would have merely been a happy coincidence."

Archer suppressed a chuckle at Reed's words and the reaction from the aliens. Gallows humor just didn't translate across species lines. "He means that the killer's primary goal was destroying any trace of his presence and as long as that was accomplished, he would be satisfied. That isn't to say that he wouldn't consider our people and yours to be viable targets as well."

Nidani nodded and held out a hand for the scanner. "May I?" Reed looked to Archer for permission before placing it into her outstretched hand. "Is this functional still?"

"Barely," Reed said. "But yes."

She surveyed it for a moment before passing it off to someone else. "You will not object if we examine it, Captain?"

"No," Archer shook his head. "But we will insist that someone from the Enterprise be present for all the testing."

"Of course," Nidani smiled faintly. "We do not wish to appear as if we are unjust." She looked at him. "You did say that you had identified a suspect?"

Archer sighed. "Not exactly, Madame Vice Chancellor. I said that we had recovered a DNA sample and that it was Vulcan but I did not say we had identified a suspect. We hadn't yet begun comparing the sample against the Vulcans in the expedition, a process we have now completed."

She frowned. "I'm afraid I do not understand you, Captain."

Archer took in a breath before explaining, "No one in the expedition matched the sample. There's another Vulcan on Mondar Prime."

* * *

As disconcerting as it was, T'Pol was prepared for the explosion of reaction that followed. The Council erupted into protests and arguing with the Vice Chancellor stuck in the middle of it all, attempting to regain some semblance of order. She was not having any appreciable success on the matter.

"Please," she spoke up, raising her voice to be heard. No one acknowledged her until T'Pol pressed her lips together and took a moment before yelling, "YOU WILL LISTEN!"

Shocked, the Mondarians froze and stared at her. She felt a measure of amusement at the similarly surprised expressions on her crewmates' faces. Recovering her composure, she clasped her hands behind her back and stepped up. "This had always been a possibility, though remote. Mondar Prime's planetary security is infinitesimal in comparison with Vulcan's. Any of our ships, even the most basic, would easily be able to make landing on this planet without your knowledge."

"Then why didn't you say so before?" Someone asked.

She raised a brow. "Would you have listened?" Gesturing toward the outside, T'Pol added. "Few on this planet have shown any particular interest in an impartial investigation. We have encountered difficulties at every step of our investigation."

"And for that we apologize," Nidani said, clearly struggling to retain her composure. "We have attempted to help but, you must understand, that we could not trust that you would not disguise the truth."

T'Pol understood many things of this situation but she doubted any of them truly wished to hear them. She took another moment to consider her next response. "It is understandable, though regrettable, that we were not able to convey our distaste for deception. I cannot say that no Vulcan has ever deceived another but; I can say that in a matter of this nature, it would be unconscionable for one to. Had he killed the Vice Chancellor and retained his faculties, Skon would have admitted such outright."

"Any mental illness," Phlox interjected, "we would have discovered in our tests."

"But nevertheless, we know that he did not kill the Chancellor" Captain Archer said, the tone of his voice effectively undercutting any attempts anyone could make at arguing. "We've sent the sample back to Vulcan, hopefully they will be able to identify to whom it belongs. In the meantime, we have a fugitive to root out and I'm afraid the ship's sensors will be next to useless. They're not sensitive enough to pick up the minor physiological differences between your species and the Vulcans."

"We may be able to adjust them," T'Pol said, looking at him. "I cannot make any guarantees but, with Doctor Phlox's assistance, it may indeed be possible."

"I hope that it is, Sub-Commander," Nidani said. "I'm afraid we have nothing on Mondar Prime that would be of any use to you."

"Perhaps not," T'Pol said, "But your security services should lock down all points of egress from the city. It is logical to assume the killer has remained close in order to o have remained close and with Enterprise in orbit, he cannot flee in his ship so any escape he makes will have to be over ground. He is still here."

"And we intend on finding him," Lieutenant Reed said, determined. "With the Captain's permission, I'll be sending my people down equipped with scanners to assist in the house to house searches. They should be finely tuned enough to spot the differences between Mondarian and Vulcan."

T'Pol nodded. "They are." She turned to the Vice Chancellor. "I do not doubt that my people will be issuing a formal apology but, nevertheless, I feel the need to do so as well." She looked away briefly. "The act of murder violates all of the tenets my people revere; to know one of us has committed it shames us all. There are no words to properly convey our sorrow."

She was silent then and so were they until Nidani finally said, "And there are no words to convey ours."

* * *

Lieutenant Hess was elected to beam down from the Enterprise to observe the testing on the scanner and did so just before the landing party returned from the ship. Trip was waiting for them, trying not to pace before the transporter pad.

"Well?" He asked as soon as the beams faded away.

"We can cancel the security alert," Archer joked. "They're not going to go to war, today at any rate."

"The jury is still out on tomorrow, however," Malcolm said. "They believe us that it wasn't Skon and we're going to assist them in searching for the culprit. But I can't say it wouldn't have gone easier if we'd had a name and a face to do with the DNA."

"Any answer from the Vulcans yet?"

Trip shook his head. "Called up to the bridge to ask Hoshi a few minutes ago and she hadn't heard anything. Last we got from them was that they were relaying the profile through their ships back to Vulcan. They're hoping one of them'll have the answer and we won't have to wait for the official response."

T'Pol nodded at him. "It is likely that one of them will have an answer. Few Vulcans travel off world of their own accord, and those that do are recorded in the event anything should happen to them. I suspect the person that we are dealing with is one of those travelers"

"Assumin' that military personnel or whoever would've already turned up with a match?" Trip asked and she nodded. "Makes sense," he said, falling into step with the group as they headed down the corridor. "I've got people working on the sensors, not making much headway yet but they're saying soon."

"I am on my way to assist them," T'Pol said. "The longer we delay, the more likely the killer will be able to effect an escape from the city. Have the sensors been able to detect any sign of a Vulcan ship on the surface?"

"Other than the shuttles the expedition used?" Trip shook his head. "No." They had begun the scans the second they'd realized the DNA hadn't matched anyone in the expedition. "Either it's not down there or he's got it completely powered down; maybe even destroyed the power source."

"Makes no sense to destroy it," Captain Archer said. "He'd strand himself."

"Which would do much to make it difficult to get away with murder," Lieutenant Reed noted dryly. "Assuming that is why he came to Mondar Prime to begin with."

"It seems likely that was the sole purpose of his visit," T'Pol said. "Which is troubling."

"Why seek out a planet hardly anyone on your planet has heard of and murder their chancellor?" Archer nodded. "Doesn't make sense, does it?"

"It is a question of motive," T'Pol said. "If the sole intended result was the Chancellor's death then, yes, it makes no sense. But, if the Chancellor's death is the method by which one achieves an end result then that changes things considerably."

The Captain stopped and turned to face her, understanding dawning on his face. "You think this is about Skon."

T'Pol nodded. "Someone is attempting to discredit the family of Surak." She pressed her lips together, considering the potential list of suspects. "The family itself, as I have said, is an extended group of people. On the whole, that would generate a rather large pool of suspects. However, the nature of this crime suggests a personification of Skon as the embodiment of all of them."

"Someone with one hell of a grudge," Archer said.

"Precisely," she agreed. "I am unable to think of many to whom this would apply but I have not been regular contact with Vulcan for some time now. If an event is not sufficiently important enough to reach subspace channels then it is likely that I have yet to hear about it."

"I'm not sure that you would hear about it at all, T'Pol," Lieutenant Reed said with a thoughtful look. "If something that bad happened, I highly doubt your people would be in any mood to have it broadcast across the quadrant. With respects, the Vulcans are not the most talkative race on matters they are_ pleased _by."

"He does have a point there," Trip nodded. "Whatever was bad enough to get that kind of reaction? Not a snowball's chance in hell the Vulcans are going to let it get out and I'm wondering, even if they identify the DNA sample – you think they'd actually tell us who it is?"

T'Pol considered it. "In this case, they may not have any other choice. An outworlder is dead by the hand of one of our own; there is no way of easily dismissing the matter. It is especially difficult in this case as there is a representative of a neutral planet, particularly yours, present to bear witness." Yet another reason, she believed, why Solkar had involved Earth in the first place. He was holding their race accountable for some failing that had yet to be uncovered.

She said nothing of this to her crewmates, looking to her captain instead. "If you will excuse me, Captain, I believe I can be of assistance to the team working on the sensors."

He nodded and waved her off. Trip followed her, saying something about helping as well, but T'Pol did not acknowledge him. Instead, she focused her attention inward upon the slightly uneasy sensation that rested in the back of her mind.

She was missing something. She would not go so far as to say that she was missing something that should have been obvious. But whether it should have been obvious or not did not negate the fact there was _something._

"You okay?" Trip asked her as the lift door closed before them.

"I am," she said. "This has been difficult."

"No kidding," he glanced over their heads at the ceiling. A reflexive action she had noticed from many of the humans on the ship; one indicative of discomfort with the conversation. "At least we can prove it's not Skon, right?"

"At least," she agreed. "But we cannot leave it there; a Vulcan is still guilty of murder and that is a crime that has not been committed on our world in centuries."

Trip sighed. "How bad is this going to go down back home?" She looked at him and he winced. "Damn."

She inclined her head. "Precisely."

* * *

"How's T'Pol?"

Jon was waiting for him when Trip emerged from his shower, still rubbing a towel through his hair. Understandably, Trip jumped and cursed. "Scare the bejesus out of a man why don't you?"

His old friend grinned. "Keeps you humble." He waved a hand at him. "T'Pol told me you two've made progress on the sensors."

"And that's about all she told you, right?" Trip tossed the towel on his bed and went for the hidden stash of beer he kept.

"You guessed it." Jon sighed. "Remember when we thought she was loosening up?"

"No," Trip said, handing him a bottle. "But she is. We both know this is bothering the hell out of her, before she would've just gotten higher than her usual high'n'mighty self."

"We're already in space, how much higher can she go?"

"She's a Vulcan," Trip sat down. "She'd find a way." He opened the bottle in his hand and shrugged. "She's hanging in but I'd say barely. She went after those sensors with phasers on full power. I'd say she's putting everything she's got left into finding this guy but whether it's so the Mondarians can put him on trial or so she can wring his neck herself, I've got no idea."

"I'm voting for a little of both." Jon swallowed a mouthful of beer. "I really shouldn't be drinking this."

"You're off-duty," Trip said. "And Phlox can hit you with a detox tablet if you need it." He pointed the neck of the bottle at his friend. "Even the captain needs to cut loose now and then and you, my friend, need to cut loose before you break loose. Only person who's been stretched tighter over this whole thing than T'Pol has been you."

"They asked for our help, Trip," Jon said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "And it wasn't just the Vulcan government. It was Solkar. You have any idea how big an impact this could have on Vulcan if we pull it off?"

"I read the same history books you did," Trip said. "I've got a pretty good idea."

"Well, it's so close," Jon took another gulp of beer. "He's down there, we know he's down there and all we have to do is find him. If we fail this one now –"

"We're not going to," Trip promised. "The sensors are already looking. As soon as we find a match, Malcolm's on standby with teams. The Vulcans are on the way. Whoever it is? We're not losing him now."

* * *

"Sub-Commander."

Hoshi watched as T'Pol reluctantly pulled her eyes away from the sensor hood to look to the Communications station. "Yes, Ensign?" She looked irritated, at least by Vulcan standards, and it worried Hoshi. Even that much emotion peeking through T'Pol's control was a concern and the look Travis sent her way said she wasn't the only one to notice.

"The Vice Chancellor for you, Ma'am," Hoshi said, keeping her voice even and betraying none of her thoughts. "It sounds urgent."

"I'll take it in the Captain's ready room. Mr. Reed, please continue monitoring the sensor sweep." T'Pol said, leaving her station without a backward glance at any of them.

They all waited for the door to slide shut behind T'Pol before they even risked looking at each other.

"Well that's not worrying at all now is it?" Malcolm asked.

Hoshi sighed and watched him go back to his work. "Not at all," she said. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her eyes from going to the closed Ready Room door, waiting for T'Pol to reemerge.

When she did, the Vulcan did the last thing Hoshi was expecting. She turned and walked off the bridge.

"Okay," Travis spoke up, looking from Malcolm to Hoshi. "I'm worried. Call the Captain."


	5. Chapter 5: Conclusion

It was an ill-advised move, T'Pol understood that when she made the decision. But, ill-advised as it was, it remained the only one open to her and she did not know how else to handle the matter.

Retrieving a phase pistol and beaming down to the planet was far easier than it should have been. The crew was too accustomed to giving the senior staff their leeway and she resolved, should she live, she would speak to Lieutenant Reed about the matter.

When she materialized at the coordinates she had been given, she was unsurprised to be relieved of her weapon.

"You won't be needing that here, Sub-Commander," Nidani said, her gaze sorrowful as she walked out of the shadows.

"Oh you need it, T'Pol," a familiar voice said from behind her. "But it would be highly foolish of me to allow you to keep it."

"Tolaris," T'Pol did not turn to look at him. She was not sure her control was in any condition to withstand such a test. She had known there was something her subconscious had been trying to tell her and now it became clear. "I had not expected you to be here."

"Didn't you?" Tolaris asked, his voice still soft as he circled around to face her. "I'm surprised at you, T'Pol. If there was anyone that would have surmised who murdered the Chancellor, I would have thought it would be you."

She inclined her head, acknowledging the point. "I have been somewhat distracted."

"Yes," he said and smiled, quick and cold. "I had hoped to keep you that way. It's pleasing to know I succeeded."

"Not so much from my perspective." T'Pol looked past him at Nidani. "Your presence here I expected less than his."

"I had nothing to do with it," Nidani assured. "I didn't. I –" She looked at Tolaris, her voice breaking. "You must believe me, Sub-Commander, I –"

"She couldn't help herself, I did not permit her the option of a choice." Tolaris said, reaching out to touch two fingers to Nidani's temple. It was a touch that made her shiver in revulsion. "I required a certain amount of unfettered access and Nidani was so eager to learn of my world. It made her the logical choice. It was a simple matter of will; whose would win the day. Hers or mine?" He looked back at T'Pol. "Circumstances dictated that it needed to be me, there could be no other outcome if I was to be successful."

"You have not been," T'Pol took a step away from them, one he did not seem to notice. "The truth has been revealed, a DNA sample sent to Vulcan, it is only a matter of time before you are identified and you are caught."

"Perhaps," Tolaris allowed. "I regret that my primary goal has failed, Skon and his family remain intact. However, I cannot say that this entire endeavor is a complete failure. Damage has been done to the relations between Mondar Prime and Vulcan." He looked at her. "Before I am done here, more still will be done between Earth and Vulcan."

She did not ask how; she did not need to. The truth of Tolaris's intentions were held in the darkness of his eyes.

T'Pol lifted her chin. "It is too late for that, Tolaris. You, yourself, saw to the further bonding of the two."

He frowned at her, not comprehending.

"All of Vulcan will know of Earth's involvement here, yes, and success or fail, they will know that it was Solkar who called them here. He trusted them with the safety and freedom of his son and his family's future. Enterprise has delivered both." T'Pol lifted a brow. "I can think of no better validation. We owe you thanks."

The comment had the intended effect and she dropped to the floor seconds before he fired her own phase pistol.

* * *

"She did _what?_" Archer thundered, staring in shock at his communications chief.

"Sub-Commander T'Pol beamed down to the surface several minutes ago," Hoshi said, shifting nervously from one foot to the other

"And she didn't say why?" Trip asked. "Didn't give you any idea of what was going on?"

"No sir," Hoshi said with a shake of her head. "Sub-Commander T'Pol received a call from the Vice Chancellor that she took in the captain's ready room. Shortly after that, she left the bridge without saying a word to any of us. The transport showed up on Malcolm's station a few minutes later."

"And that was it," Trip said.

"And that was it, sir, yes." Hoshi nodded, looking relieved.

"Okay, thank you, Ensign, dismissed." Archer waved a hand toward the door, dismissing her with a tired smile. As soon as the door slid shut behind her, he looked at Trip. "Tell me again how the Vulcans are supposed to be the calm, rational ones?"

Trip grinned wryly at him. "This one is personal, Captain, you know how that goes. Can't imagine it's any different for her than us, even if she is better at lying about it."

"Might be the last lie she gets a chance to tell, we don't find her in time," Archer said, turning toward his desk and tapping the console there. "Mr. Reed, I'm guessing you've got a team ready to go?"

"Yes sir," Reed said immediately over the comm. "We have a go?"

"Just as soon as I get down there it is," Archer agreed. "And double the guard on Skon and his wife, I don't like the way this feels."

If the Vice Chancellor had been compromised, he didn't want to think about all the ways this could go wrong.

Until one of them greeted him at the transporter. Skon drew himself up, dignified and composed, and waited for them to reach him before saying, "I am going with you."

"With all due respect? Like hell you are," Archer said. "I can't allow you to go down there with us, Skon, it's too dangerous. The safest place for you and your people right now is this ship. After we beam down, the rest of the expedition will be brought aboard and given guest quarters until we can sort this out."

"Captain, it is likely that the man that committed murder in my name is with Sub-Commander T'Pol as we speak," Skon reasoned, his expression one of perfect composure. Too perfect. "I am going with you, I must see this man for myself."

"You'll see him, I promise you that," Archer said. "Just not right now, if the killer is down there, he may have already incapacitated Sub-Commander T'Pol. Taking into account the likelihood of there being a firefight? I'm sorry but I can't let you go into that kind of a situation." He reached out, taking a phase pistol from the waiting Lieutenant Reed. "See to your people. I'm sure they'd like to see you."

With a polite (but firm) smile, he stepped past the Vulcan and up onto the transporter pad. "Be right back."

* * *

The unmistakable sound of a transporter beam gave T'Pol reason to look out from the relative safety of the stone column. "Captain?" She called out, diving forward again when Tolaris fired in her direction. She pressed into a shallow alcove, using what cover it provided as Lieutenant Reed's security team immediately returned fire.

"Sub-Commander?" Archer hollered back over the firefight. "You okay?"

As if to reassure herself, as unnecessary as that was, T'Pol checked before affirming, "I am undamaged." It certainly was not for Tolaris's lack of trying and there was the matter of having revealed her position to answer the captain, thereby making herself vulnerable. "Though I cannot make any assurances I will remain that way."

"You're the one who beamed down here," Archer said, his hand closing around her arm and pulling her around the corner with him. "Alone," he said the last with a scowl. "What the hell were thinking?"

She looked at him, stoic, and said nothing. He huffed a breath and muttered something uncharitable under his breath. She could not begrudge him the sentiment; she had acted rashly although she believed the risk worth it.

"Fine, don't say anything," Archer said. "Tolaris, huh?" he nodded toward the Vulcan. "Didn't see that one coming."

"Nor did I exactly," T'Pol said. "In retrospect, however, we likely should have thought of his group."

Archer nodded. "Probably. A group of Vulcans flirting with their emotions, rejecting Surak's teachings of emotional control and logic at the same time as they're rejected by followers of those teachings?" He grinned. "Yeah, we should've seen that one coming."

"He is alone," T'Pol said.

"What makes you think that?"

"He does," she took the phase pistol he held out to her and rose up. "Tolaris, you will lower your weapon and stand down."

He spun toward her, gripping the phase pistol tightly. Behind him, Nidani cowered on her knees with her hands pressed tightly over her ears. "I cannot, Sub-Commander," he said. "You know this."

As a matter of fact, she did know exactly that. T'Pol knew what awaited him on Vulcan. The rituals had not been used in many centuries, they had not been needed in many more, but the laws stood. "You will be remanded into custody for trial. If the outcome is guilt, you will be incarcerated and re-educated."

She allowed her expression to soften slightly. "Please, Tolaris. It is the only way."

"Sent back to Vulcan?" He spat out. "_Re-educated_?" He looked past her at Archer. "Do you know what that means, Captain Archer? Do you have any idea what they do to someone like on my world?"

T'Pol didn't give him the chance to elaborate. "Your mind will literally be changed by means of a group meld. You will face the truth of your actions in the meld and then the process will begin. You are ill, Tolaris, your actions have proven this just as they have proven that your group's experiment has failed."

She saw his finger begin to move and reacted, firing before he could. Stunned, Tolaris crumpled into a heap.

"It has been a thousand years since any Vulcan has committed murder," T'Pol said, looking down at his unconscious form. "Until now." She could not quite keep the disdain from her voice as she added, "You shame us."

* * *

"Tolaris," Skon said, repeating the name the Sub-Commander had given him. "I do not believe that I know this man. Of course, I cannot be certain," he added. "But the name is not one that is known to me." It was an unfortunate part of the demands his duties to his family that he encountered a great many people. So many that, even a Vulcan possessing of perfect recall, would find it difficult to remember them all.

"It is highly unlikely that you would," T'Pol said. "You travel in highly different circles; Tolaris is a member of a radical group that was exiled from Vulcan a number of years ago."

"Ah yes," Skon nodded. "I believe I recall discussion of the matter." He did not elaborate further to reveal that, for a time, he had observed Tolaris's group with some interest. On the whole, he had found their theories highly intriguing. Though he could not, and had not, condoned their methods, he believed further study would have been warranted had they not left Vulcan. "Do we know the whereabouts of the rest of his group? It would please their families greatly if we were to return home with news."

"Lieutenant Reed is attempting to answer that question as we speak." T'Pol said, nodding a greeting at the approaching Captain Archer. "I will ask him to update you on his efforts."

"Thank you," Skon said then turned. "Captain."

"Skon," Archer returned. Skon was gratified by the fact the human did not hesitate to meet his gaze. Solkar's opinion of Jonathan Archer had been proven to be quite accurate and Skon intended on telling his father such. It did not escape him that he would have the opportunity to do so largely because of Archer's own actions. "I believe I promised you that you would have the chance to speak with Tolaris."

"You did," Skon agreed. "I am aware that his mind and logic are compromised but I must speak with him. Knowing his background has made that imperative."

Archer frowned, the action suggesting how deeply troubled by Skon's wish he was. "I can't stop you but I am advising against it." He looked at the brig. "The last thing we need to be giving Tolaris a platform for his cause."

"We will not be," Skon said. "In his own mind, Captain, Tolaris believes that his logic is sound. Unless we attempt an understanding of how he reached such a place, we will be unable to effect change and prevent it from happening again. One man has already died, a woman's life is now ruined, I believe that is more than enough damage and I will do all I can to see that is so." Skon could not ignore the possibility that his people bore a measure of responsibility for the Chancellor's death. "Now, please, stand aside."

The captain hesitated, not moving until T'Pol reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Skon is right," she said. "Vulcan cannot pretend we bear no responsibility in this matter. If we don't try to understand why, it will happen again."

It was intriguing to watch the emotions play across Archer's face as he mulled over what his executive officer had told him. The connection between the two suggested a fascinating future might lie between their two peoples. Skon regretted that he would have little time to truly observe the beginnings of it on Enterprise. "All right," he nodded, moving aside. "But no physical contact. The cell stays locked up. If he really was controlling the Vice Chancellor's actions through mind melds -- "

"You cannot permit him near any of us," Skon nodded. "I have no objections to this." The man had attempted to harm Skon's wife, it worked to his own protection that Skon would be permitted no physical contact with him. Skon was a Vulcan, a man sworn to peace, but there was a part of him that would derive much satisfaction from strangling the man with his own entrails.

It was almost regrettable he would not have the chance for when he looked the man in the eye, the urge was nigh overwhelming. He quelled it ruthlessly before stepping closer to the enclosure to ask simply, "Why?"

Tolaris shrugged and said. "Ashv'cezh."

The word shocked him and Skon stood silent, staring at the renegade Vulcan while fighting to maintain his own composure. "Ashv'cezh?" He repeated, not quite convinced of what he had just heard. He wanted to ask what in the name of the Other had led Tolaris to believe ashv'cezh would be necessary? What had he ever done to him?

"Yes," said Tolaris. "It very nearly worked."

Behind him, Skon heard Archer quietly ask T'Pol about the meaning of ashv'cezh but it was Tolaris who spoke, explaining it. "It is an old Vulcan concept, Captain," he said, getting up and walking forward to the cell's walls. "Translated into your language, it means revenge-worse-than-death." He smiled, the action unpleasant and cold. "If it is successful, the victim of ashv'cezh finds himself in a situation that makes death seem an uncomplicated and pleasant option. It is a quite efficient method of punishment."

"What the hell did Skon ever do to you that he'd deserve_ that_?" Archer demanded, angry.

"Nothing," Tolaris sat again. "Merely be unfortunate enough to be born of the House and lineage of Surak. Surak's teaching destroyed my people, turned them into weak, spineless shadows of themselves." His face twisted into an expression of disdain. "We did not need saving, our civilization would have emerged victorious from that era and we would have been the stronger for it. Surak interfered with the natural order of our history and his descendants walk our world as privileged citizens. They dare to speak for all Vulcan, they who are nothing more than bloated ticks, living on our indulgences." He arched a brow, meeting Skon's gaze. "The eldest son of the eldest son arrested for a murder born of petty hate – there could be no better example. Even if Vulcan refused to admit how far Surak has forced us to fall, his lineage would forever carry the stain of disgrace."

Skon set his jaw and said nothing for a moment. His control threatened to fail him with the situation as Tolaris had presented it. It was patently obvious the man was mad; the healers of Seleya had much work ahead of them if they were to ever reconstruct his psyche. It would be illogical to waste breath attempting to reason with the man at this juncture.

"Say something, Prince," Tolaris mocked, grinning at him.

"There is no need," Skon said and turned away. "This is at an end."

* * *

"I apologize," T'Pol said when the door closed behind them, sealing Tolaris away from their sight.

"There is no need," Skon shook his head. "Madness has no impact upon reality."

"It would have if he'd succeeded," Captain Archer put in, his voice heavy with what very nearly had been. "He damn near did it."

"Damn near or not, Captain," Skon said, "Tolaris failed. There is no logic in wondering what might have happened. It did not and will not. His illogic is his own to deal with. We will repair the damage done on Mondar Prime, we will mourn the Chancellor, but we will not spare time to pander to the wishes of a madman."

T'Pol nodded. "You are correct; however it is unfortunate that we had not anticipated the true extent of Tolaris's instability. We might have avoided this matter entirely."

"No," Skon said. "There was no avoiding this. If it had not been Tolaris, it would have been someone else. The universe has a particular talent for teaching us lessons we would rather avoid."

"And what lesson would this be?"

"Never forget." Skon looked at Archer. "We preserve the history of Surak carefully, Captain, we teach it to our children. Our fault does not lie in allowing a movement like Tolaris's to flourish but in allowing them to perpetuate falsehoods about our history. If there had been no Surak, it is likely Vulcan would have destroyed itself and pretending otherwise leads to folly."

"Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it." Archer agreed. "And old saying on my world."

"A wise one," T'Pol said. At another time she might have implied a humorous slant upon the response – the captain did enjoy it when she indulged in such behavior – but this did not seem an appropriate time.

"Indeed," Skon nodded.

T'Pol turned away from the conversation, hearing someone approaching at a rush, in time to see Lieutenant Reed round the corner. The expression on his face did not suggest anything encouraging. "Lieutenant?"

He came to a stop and held out a PADD for her. "We found Tolaris's ship." He paused long enough to give her time to read before adding, "It was locked into orbit around one of Mondar Prime's outermost moons."

"They're all dead," T'Pol murmured, passing the PADD to Archer. "The rest of his group – they're all dead."

"Murdered by the look of it," Reed nodded grimly. "He killed them. I sent a team to check it out and they're reporting it's quite a mess over there, sir," he said to Archer. "It looks as though he left them where they fell."

"My God," Archer said.

"Captain," T'Pol turned. "There are rituals to be observed – "

He nodded. "We'll leave the disposition of their bodies to your people. I'm sure, Lieutenant that you'll be able to wrap up the investigation quickly?"

"Yes, sir it shouldn't take much longer to complete it," Reed assured. "We've already taken all pertinent scans of the bodies and Doctor Phlox tells me he'll be enlisting the expedition medical staff in the post mortems. According to Hoshi's last check, the T'Plana-Hath should arrive by late tomorrow evening if you wish to make arrangements with them."

T'Pol nodded and looked at Skon. "Would you like to me to contact them?"

"Yes," he said. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I will spend some time with my wife. We've much to discuss."

T'Pol inclined her head in respect and watched him go. There was a weariness to Skon's step that troubled her but she could think of nothing that would alleviate it other than the presence of his wife. She suspected his thoughts traveled a similar route and left him to it. She focused her attention on the waiting humans, Lieutenant Reed in particular. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she said. "Your discretion in these matters is appreciated."

Reed smiled tightly. "Unfortunately, all I can do now is the very least I can do. If I had my way, none of this would have happened."

"You're not the only one," Captain Archer sighed. "T'Pol?"

She turned to look at her captain. "Yes?"

Archer's smile was more sympathetic. "Would you like a little help with the arrangements?"

She would have liked to have made none of them at all. "I would, but this is something which must be done alone." There were traditions that needed to be observed and they were not for the eyes of outworlders.

Taking her leave of them with a nod, she stopped and rested a hand on Archer's shoulder. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Anytime."

Were she human, she would have smiled. "With respect, sir, I sincerely hope not."

* * *

She thought of Tolaris when she heard the news. It seemed as if the whole of the galaxy had an opinion on the matter but T'Pol did not particularly care to listen. She had long ago learned to keep her own counsel on many matters and this would be no different.

The news of Spock's birth meant much to everyone, a hallmark of a new era no matter what opinions there were and T'Pol resolutely ignored her own personal feelings on the matter, suppressing the memories of the past, and when she received the birth announcement, she sent a politely worded note of congratulations to Skon. Even among Vulcans, becoming a grandfather was cause for celebration.

She had not expected that she would see Skon so soon thereafter. Though, in retrospect, she might have realized it was likely with his return to teaching at the Academy. The quiet life of retirement did not suit either of them particularly well.

"You appear well," he said, polite as ever.

"As do you," she returned. The halls of the Science Academy were familiar comfort though, even now, she sometimes caught herself longing for the feel of deck plating beneath her feet. "How is the boy?"

Skon's eyes warmed and he produced an image for her perusal. "Growing quickly."

She examined the picture with interest. "So I see," she agreed. "He resembles you." It was illogical to be pleased by such a comment but T'Pol knew from personal experience that logic rarely entered into it. "I have been following some of the reaction in the media." She suspected she wasn't the only one, much of Vulcan would likely be observing the announcement of Spock's birth with interest – Skon chief among them.

"It has been positive," he agreed. "I admit that I had feared it would not be so." She nodded. The freedom of age gave them much latitude on the matter of emotions. "It seems much has changed over the years."

Not entirely for the better but T'Pol had long ago learned one took what was offered and waited calmly for the rest. She thought of the time when they had first met and the controversy of Tolaris. "And more will change still," she said. "Spock has the look of purpose about him."

Subtle amusement glinted in Skon's eyes. "His mother's influence I am sure; she is a driven woman."

T'Pol's lips suggested a smile. "Humans so often are." She thought of her own experiences with them. "It will not be easy for him."

"Among humans?" Skon asked and she nodded. "Perhaps not, but it will be no easier here. Much has changed, T'Pol, and yet little has at all."

She looked out at the Forge, watching the sand score over the outer most wall of the Academy. A sandstorm was approaching from the east, moving slowly toward them over the hills. "It is a peculiar dichotomy," she said. "But so are the worlds he has been born of. Spock's path will not be easy but those worth traveling rarely are."

"A fact you, above anyone, may speak to." Skon said.

T'Pol did not respond. The fact her service on the Enterprise remained a subject of controversy among many Vulcans needed no comment. "Things do not change until they are given impetus to do so," she said, redirecting the conversation. "I can think of none better than the birth of a child, Spock's mere existence forces questions that some would rather see forgotten."

"Apathy is no longer an option," Skon agreed. His gaze held a hint of amusement as he looked at her. "And so it begins."

T'Pol inclined her head. "And so it begins."

fin


End file.
