Chapter 31: Koon-ut-kal-if-fee

It was the first morning briefing with all officers back on board, in fact it was one more than usual.

"By authorization of Starfleet command, Lieutenant Talas has been given a field commission in Starfleet. For obvious reasons we've found a compromise on the color of her uniform."

Everybody looked at the black-colored, but otherwise Starfleet standard issue uniform and snickered. It was good to see that even Hoshi could join in the fun. She had recovered remarkably well from losing Malcolm to the Andorian's charm over the last week.

"As for her responsibilities. I have decided to split tactical and armory duties. Lieutenant Reed will remain a part of the bridge crew and will do the shooting, Lieutenant Talas will run the Armory as weapons officer and will make sure that Malcolm doesn't have to throw stones at whoever confronts us."

He looked around and Malcolm took the loss of reign over the armory quite well. But then, realistically, most of the time his XO had actually done the day-to-day work in the armory.

"Lieutenant Reed will also be promoted to third in command, but not in rank. He knows why."

Everybody cackled, loudest among them, Hoshi.

"And now there is a serious matter. We all know that our chief engineer and our science officer would like to pursue a romantic relationship. However, a Vulcan named Koss, has staked his claim on T'Pol as his mate."

He looked over and saw T'Pol's acute displeasure at having such private details discussed in public.

"I'm sorry T'Pol, I know you would prefer this matter to be handled a little more privately, but there is little privacy on a starship and you are an active officer."

"I understand, captain. Please be informed that I will claim the right to the

, championing myself."

"What is that, T'Pol?" Jon asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"It literally translates to 'marriage or challenge'. If a female rejects the male she has been betrothed to in childhood, she can nominate a challenger who will fight the claimant over the possession of her."

"Possession?" Trip asked in wide-eyed disbelief, and quite upset by the sound of it. Apparently Surak's katra had left a few details unsaid.

"Not all our traditions are particularly enlightened, Commander. I do not expect you to take possession of me in the literal sense, but it is what Vulcan tradition says."

Jon ignored Trip's huff of indignity. "T'Pol, I'm almost afraid to ask, but how is that fight conducted, and more importantly, how is it decided?"

"It will be fought at the ancient battle grounds on Mount Seleya where Koss will make his claim known before the clan's matriarch, which at this time is my mother T'Les. I will choose myself to fight Koss. The fight will be decided by the death of one challenger."

Jon buried his face in his palms. It was as he had suspected.

"Is the challenger you choose supposed to 'take possession' of you?" Malcolm asked and Jon had a pretty good idea what was coming.

"No. It is tradition that he or she immediately hands the female over to the one she desires to be bonded to."

"Then I will fight for you, Commander." Malcolm declared with an air of finality about his statement.

"Your offer honors you, Lieutenant, but you would be at a great disadvantage due to the higher gravity and the thinner atmosphere on Vulcan."

"Commander T'Pol, with all due respect, I have fought much scarier creatures than a Vulcan civilian in the past."

"How can you know that Koss is a civilian?"

Jon looked at the interaction between the Vulcan and Malcolm and it was indeed a question he was pondering as well right now.

"Commander, if your betrothed would have been in the military, he would have made his claims known much more forcefully by now. The old High Command had a rather unseemly interest in your honoring that betrothal."

Jon saw T'Pol think for a while before she addressed Malcolm again.

"Malcolm Steward Reed, son of the clan Sh'hiran'lin'iijyliunh'rei'iy'iukn'hy'wen'lhia'ehrm'n, I choose thee as my challenger."

Considering the antiquated form the UT had delivered, Jon surmised that she had switched to some form of ancient Vulcan. Great, now he had a tactical officer who had a penchant for killing people, and a science officer, who was fought for possession of. Those Vulcans could really give him a headache.

"The challenge will be issued," Soval told newly elected matriarch T'Les.

"It is unfortunate that we still have such barbaric rituals, Will T'Pol-kan answer the challenge herself?"

"No, krei Malcolm will be the champion. He was the one who made the tormentors of T'Lara end their own lives," Soval explained, hiding his hands in the long sleeves of his ceremonial robe, while pacing T'Les' dining room slowly.

"This time he will have to take one," T'Les reminded him, clearly displeased with the idea. "Why would my daughter choose a champion who is disadvantaged by the gravity and our atmosphere?"

"It is not widely known for obvious reasons, but Malcolm was once a member of a secretive faction of Starfleet's intelligence service. He is not only trained to kill much stronger opponents, he is also equipped with the mental capacity to live with the fact after he has done so."

Soval saw T'Les accept his explanation with a silent nod.

"Are the other members of the clan back yet?"

"The rescue operation is still ongoing. The humans have found a method to lower shuttles into the natural dampening field using their ships grappling devices," Soval explained. "Charles is overseeing the effort personally and you need not worry. Their chief pilot, ensign Mayweather is an exceptionally gifted individual."

"That is agreeable to hear, Soval. What will happen, now that you have been appointed First Minister of the High Council?"

"We will pursue a less aggressive agenda towards the humans. It is time they begin to stand on their own without us constantly looking over their shoulders and meddling in their affairs. Your appointment as Matriarch of the extended clan has been finalized by the clan's elders and it is their wish that you and V'Nur become En'ahr'at of T'Pau. To quote their rationale: Parents who could handle T'Pol are more than qualified to provide guidance and education for T'Pau."

"It sounds almost as if Charles has been part of that meeting, does it not?" T'Les mentioned and Soval could clearly sense her amusement, even though it was well hidden.

"He has made an impression on many members of this clan, and I would call it a favorable one," Soval agreed.

Normally he would consider his plan brilliant, if it wasn't for the fact that his decision sounded ridiculous. Well the word sprang to mind immediately when one considered he had sent Trip off with an official order to produce the next series of naked pictures of Anna Hess, and on a planet the inhabitants of which considered telling their age an intimate endeavor.

Thankfully Soval, the new head honcho of the government had not asked for reasons, why he had requested if the cliffs above Vulcan's fire-plains could be blocked from access for three hours, but he had gotten the impression that even without any details, the Vulcan had worked out that whatever was happening there was not meant to be seen by Vulcans.

Normally he would never have given such a ridiculous order, but that was the only way to keep Trip away from the fighting grounds. He simply didn't trust his chief engineer to keep his emotions in check if the fight should go badly. Hell he didn't even trust himself. He knew he'd have some fences to mend, as Trip would need some time to forgive him that stunt.

The only hope came from an inadvertently overheard attempt of T'Pol to calm him down, telling him that the (hopefully) inevitable win of Malcolm over his challenger would allow her to legally 'deal with the foreseeable arousal'. Jon had a pretty good idea what that meant.

They walked out of the shuttle and he immediately saw a family resemblance when he saw the woman waiting for them surrounded by a number of ridiculously dressed Vulcans wearing even more ridiculous hats. All of them carried a lirpa. That was the name T'Pol had given for that painful looking weapon with a club on one side and a blade on the other.

They, that was himself, T'Pol, Malcolm and Hoshi, stood where T'Pol had told them. T'Pol's mother stood and fixed T'Pol with a hard stare.

"T'Pol, are our ceremonies for outworlders?" she asked curtly, which Jon found ridiculous, considering that the mate the fight was going over was an off-worlder to begin with. It was probably a traditional thing again. Why couldn't Vulcans have a 'traditional beer piss-up'? That would certainly have beat watching two guys trying to kill each over the possession of a woman.

"They are not outworlders," T'Pol replied defiantly. "They are my friends. I am permitted this."

Judging by the old-fashioned sound of what the UT was producing, he gathered they were speaking in that old dialect again that Hoshi had described as 'Golic Vulcan'.

The Vulcan woman motioned them to come closer.

"This is Jonathan," T'Pol introduced and T'Les answered the introduction with little more than a barely perceptible nod.

"And thee are called?" she asked in that strange language again.

"Malcolm Reed, son of thy clan, pidkom."

Wow, Hoshi had obviously taught him the Vulcan equivalent of 'hi there'."

"And thee?"

"Hoshi Sato," the ship's com officer answered and added a Japanese style bow. T'Les looked back at her daughter.

"Thee namest these outworlders friends. How do thee pledge their behavior?"

"With my life," T'Pol answered. Now he was really happy to have kept Trip away from this – silly order or not.

"What ye are about to witness cometh from the time of beginning, without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. Kal-if-farr!"

"Kal-if-fee!" T'Pol answered causing some very un-Vulcan-like commotion among the guys with the funny hats.

"She chooses the challenge," her mother announced. "Koss, does thee accept the challenge according to our laws and customs?"

A somewhat chubby Vulcan nodded wordlessly and grabbed a lirpa from one of the men who had accompanied him. For a Vulcan he looked clearly pissed off.

"T'Pol, thee will choose thy champion."

He saw T'Pol assume an ever more rigid stance than usual.

"As it was in the dawn of our days, as it is today, as it will be for all tomorrows, I make my choice. Malcolm Reed of Terrha shall fight for me."

T'Les looked at Malcolm.

"Malcolm Reed, T'Pol is within her rights, but our laws and customs are not binding on thee for thee art not of this world. Thee art free to decline with no harm on thyself."

"I burn, pidkom, my eyes art flame, my heart is flame. I shall fight!" Malcolm growled and ripped the shirt off his torso with one hand while prying a lirpa out of the hand of one of the Vulcans.

Say what? The captain thought with confusion about Malcom's declaration.

"Here beginneth the act of combat for possession of the female T'Pol. If both survive the lirpa, combat shall commence with the Ahn Woon."

Not when Malcolm Reed is involved, John thought to himself, his mind filled with sarcasm.

It was not difficult to see that the Vulcan was way out of his depths. Despite the oppressive heat and the thinner atmosphere, Malcolm was way quicker on his feet. Something told him that Phlox had probably helped a little with a healthy dose of Tri-Ox, but he didn't see any booths labeled 'doping control'.

Jon understood why Malcolm had once said he only allowed him to see those parts of him he wanted him to see. Malcolm was absolutely brutal. Hoshi had already covered her eyes with her hands and he pondered doing the same, seeing Malcolm slash the blade into the hapless Vulcan's flesh again and again. Koss was bleeding out of several gashing wounds and even if there was any chance of him surviving, which Jon thought probably wasn't, he'd be disfigured for life after Malcolm had practically slashed the Vulcan's face open.