Chapter 27: The Bomb

He heaved a sigh of relief, finally being in the sanctity of his ready room. He wasn't the type for histrionics, but hearing of Maxwell's death had shattered his control and he felt no little amount of shame for having broken down in tears in the middle of the damn bridge.

What really made his blood boil though, was the audacity with which the Vulcans had insisted that this was an inner-Vulcan affair. The fact that thirty humans and twelve Vulcans had died in a bombing of the United Earth Embassy didn't quite fit their logic. Nothing screamed "we have something to hide" like V'Las' insistence that something which had happened in the embassy, which was officially Earth territory, was still an inner-Vulcan affair for which no human interference was needed.

"Bullshit!" Jon swore and the door opened. He was about to come down like a ton of bricks on whoever had broken protocol until he saw it was Rianne, wearing her civilian nurse costume.

"I've made you tea," she said. "It will help you calm your nerves."

"Thank you," he said, trying to smile, but his face simply didn't obey him. Rianne turned to go, but he stopped her. "Next time, please use proper protocol. We don't really need any rumors that the Captain's girlfriend is subject to special treatment. Well, at least not during duty hours."

She smiled, apologized and left.

"We have an incoming transmission," Hoshi reported over the intercom. "It's ambassador Soval."

"Patch him through."

"Question everything, Captain. Re-check everything, and whatever they tell you, don't let them keep you away from Vulcan. However far you have to take your investigation, you have my support."

Wow, that was a close to angry as he had ever seen any Vulcan, except for T'Pol of course. She had been positively furious after learning of T'Lara's fate.

"Where are you ambassador? It looks like you're on a ship."

"I have abandoned my post on Earth. Please rendezvous with my courier ship at Wolf 359. And, Captain, if you are still owed a debt of honor by Captain Shran, now would be a good time to collect payment."

"How can Shran help us?"

"There is little doubt that this outrage was perpetrated by the Vulcan government or at least with their knowledge. They killed forty-two people, among them twelve Vulcans. Do you really think administrator V'Las will hesitate to kill eighty-five humans and destroy humanity's only operational warp five vessel? Now, he might think twice if you arrive being escorted by an Andorian Regiment of Kumari class cruisers."

"We could start an interstellar war here, ambassador," John said with a gasp.

"That is V'Las' ultimate goal anyway, Captain. Please contact Commander Shran and meet me at Wolf 359 at all haste."

"Looks like you did that experiment on yourself for nothing," Trip said. They were lying in bed and had difficulties to find sleep. "John told me you once asked him if he knew a way to liberate Vulcan from its current government to change your situation. Well, we may have found one. We certainly have a damn good reason."

"While I too hold the hope that this current crisis will lead to the replacement of administrator V'Las, this experiment was not conducted in vain. How else would I have found out how exceptionally pleasant anal intercourse is for Vulcans. It will cause substantial surprise in the scientific community and it opens up new options for Vulcans who wish to mate outside the pon-farr, but not conceive."

"What's a pon-farr?"

"It is a period during which a male Vulcan suffers from the plak-tow, the blood-fever. He is stripped of all logic and reason and driven by his instincts to mate. If he doesn't, he'll die. This condition afflicts every Vulcan male every seven years and for many Vulcan couples it is the only time they mate."

"So this seven year thing isn't a rumor?"

"No. Most Vulcans really mate only every seventh year. They are afraid of doing it."

"Vulcans are afraid of something?" Trip asked with a chuckle. "And of all the things they could fear they are afraid of the greatest fun you can have?"

"To experience intercourse as anything but a rather uncomfortable physical act, you have to allow your control over your emotions to lessen. That's what most are afraid of, not the act itself."

"You obviously belong to the minority, who's not afraid."

"I'm still worried," T'Pol admitted. "Indeed I'm not afraid to let my control slip deliberately, but it will also reduce my ability to see reason. With my superior strength I could injure you. Thankfully I have seen many techniques and postures in the human database which can be exercised while the female is restrained."

"Bondage, T'Pol?" Trip said with a surprised laugh.

"Charles, this is not a suitable matter for amusement. During my experiment, when I ... climaxed, I crushed a part of the plastic device I was using, with a single hand. Imagine I would have embraced you at the time. Broken ribs would be the most likely outcome."

"Wow, you make it sound almost scary."

"It is very common that mates injure each other during the rigors of the pon-farr, which is why there is always a close family member at hand – usually a sibling or parent – to tend to the wounds the mates inflict on each other."

"Jeez, T'Pol, it sounds like a miracle that your species is still alive."

"Indeed."

"This is the first time I actually believe a Vulcan," Shran growled as he paced the situation room on the human ship. The pink-skins had helped him at the monastery, so his honor demanded to repay the debt. And what better way was there than going head-to-head with the green-bloods. Ever since this V'Las had come to power, border skirmishes, sometimes over useless pieces of rock, like Weytahn had become increasingly frequent. One of them had claimed the life of one of his brothers.

"Soval, why are you doing this. You are Vulcan," he demanded, fixing the ambassador with an angry glare.

"It is very likely, to the point that I am convinced of it, that V'Las will blame this outrage on my clan. The government has tried to persecute several members of our clan and there were plans to assassinate T'Pol. Since those plans have been thwarted by Captain Archer and his crew, I believe the bombing of the embassy to be an act of retaliation against humanity."

"Why is your clan so important that your own government goes against you."

The green-blood remained mute.

"Answer me!" he growled into the Vulcan's face.

"Our clan consists of the direct descendants of Surak and several of his first followers."

Suddenly it all made sense. He did not know much about Surak, and frankly he didn't want to, but one thing he knew, was that the father of their annoying logic was a strict pacifist. For someone like V'Las that couldn't be very acceptable.

"He tries to blame a bombing on pacifists?" Shran asked, his antennae wiggling in confusion.

"Logic has often been a stranger to the chambers of the High Command since V'Las ascended to power."

"Have they any idea what happens if the Andorian Imperial Guard retaliates!"

"It is a risk they apparently find worthy of taking," Soval said. "V'Las would not pursue such an aggressive agenda if he wasn't sure of his victory. It is my belief that some outside force might stand by to support him. Since V'Las has started persecuting our clan, I have been cut off from many sorts of information. The fact that I remained at my post at all is most likely caused by the reality that he could not find somebody else, who so convincingly gave the impression of having antagonistic views about humanity."

"You Vulcans are so used to lying, you even lie to each other!" Shran spat angrily.

"In this case, Commander, you might wish to consider it a positive aspect," Soval reminded him, infuriatingly calmly. "If I had been removed, I would not think my successor would have warned Andoria about the impending attack and given your people time to take preemptive action."

"He's right, Shran," the pink-skin said. "If it wasn't for Soval, this ship would still be in space dock and P'Jem would still be a listening station."

Shran nodded grimly, his antennae pointing forward. "Agreed, pink-skin, prepare your ship. It is now under the protection of the Andorian Imperial Guard."

"These frequencies and codes can be used to disable a satellite in the outer defense perimeter," Soval said, handing the chip over to the human.

"I suppose we're not exactly cleared to have that?" the chief engineer of the human ship asked.

"Have what, commander?" Soval asked back, raising his eyebrow in pretended innocence. "All I see is a Starfleet data module."

"Right," the human snorted and began his work.

"You look like you would wish to ask me a question," Soval noted, seeing the surreptitious glances of T'Pol's desired mate.

"Indeed I do," he sighed, but didn't stop his work. "T'Pol and I, we'd been having weird sensations, almost like one could feel what the other feels. A friend of ours, who's learning Vulcan, read an old text and thinks we might have something called a tel. Do you know anything about that?"

Soval had to summon all his control not to show his surprise.

"Commander, there has been no recorded case of a tel for many years. At least not officially. And there has certainly be none that involved a non-Vulcan. What makes you think your ... friend's theory is true?"