Seasoned in the unpredictable realities of Starfleet life, Jim had stopped by his room to collect his phaser before he slipped out of Sarek's house. The phaser remained locked in its case during the children's visit, but he hadn't wanted to go for an unarmed walk while he was an active target for at least one angry resident of New Vulcan. Unfortunately, it was only while he faced this new enemy that he realized that the phaser might not be fully charged.

"Listen, man. I have a rule: I only get stabbed once a week. Drop that knife and I won't shoot you."

Shooting an opponent was one of Jim's least favorite real-life actions, anyway. Games and simulators were different. Angry though this guy was, the raw edge of emotion in his voice hinted at a different solution. Jim Kirk was no expert in psychological operations, but he'd talked down more than few bullies and thugs during the pre-Starfleet wilderness of his life.

The Orion man moved closer, his breathing heavy and so ragged that his shoulders moved.

Jim's fingers slid across his hip from his phaser to his communicator. That was always charged; he maintained contact with the landing party, and he'd also hoped to receive a message from that Vulcan woman. Jim had set the silent alarm function on so many missions now that he was able to press the raised alarm symbol on the switch without looking down.

Whether the Enterprise crew would find him breathing or bleeding, he couldn't know.

...

Nyota lowered her voice so that T'voria and the children, who were now seated in an office with one of Sarek's security staff nearby, could not hear. "Len, I'm part of this crew. I'm going." She squared her shoulders in a rigid officer's posture, but Leonard easily read the concern in her eyes.

"Nyota, I know you're as worried about Jim as the rest of us, but I don't need to remind you that I'm next in the chain of command. With Jim gone and Spock unconscious, I'm your acting Commanding Officer." McCoy felt the muscles in his jaw clench as she looked away, biting her lip with frustration. "Lieutenant, I order you to remain in this house. Sarek's not conscious yet either; as his daughter-in-law, wouldn't he trust the management of his house to you?"

"I understand. I'll remain here, as ordered."

"It's the risk we all take. Nyota, I want some of us to make it out of this in one piece. Stay here and give us all a chance."

"Please be careful."

"Aren't we always careful, in our own reckless way?" McCoy's fingers brushed her shoulder, and he left.

...

"Drop the knife. I don't know you. If your problem is with the Federation, we can talk." Jim spoke loudly, hoping to draw the attention of at least one Vulcan neighbor to the empty street.

Where were those Vulcan neighbors? Did Vulcans have some sort of meditation siesta? Where was his crew?

The Orion man scoffed, "I take no orders from humans," and charged at Jim.

Jim was a big man - tall enough to make a smaller person feel temporarily adored and protected while pressed against his muscular body - but he was fast. Leaping out of the way, he moved his torso to the left of the Orion's jabbing hand. Pebbles rattled beneath his feet as he put distance between himself and the knife.

Jim ducked a punch and evaded a second knife thrust; he moved one forearm into a defensive posture and kept up the trash talk. "Does your girlfriend always make you do her dirty work?"

Unconsciously, his words shifted to the slang he'd spoken as a teenage 'frequent flier' cycling through the Iowa juvenile court system.

"She don't love you, man? Is that yer problem? She'll let ya risk prison?"

The knife swung closer; Jim seized the Orion's wrist, twisting it so that the other man grunted.

"If we're gettin' this close you oughta tell me yer name. Who are you?"

They struggled, pushing against each other. Jim tried to head-butt the Orion, but couldn't get the right angle.

"Let go," Jim demanded. "It ain't worth it. Whatever you two got, it ain't worth this. Drop the knife." Jim drove his knee against the man's crotch; the man exhaled loudly, then gasped for air. Dirty fighting was beneath a Starfleet officer, but the low blow weakened the Orion's grip long enough for Jim to push himself free and move a couple of meters away. Should he run? Orions were strong; this guy might catch him, stab him.

"Give it up. You wanna go to jail, man? Federation jail?"

A stream of unfamiliar Orion words erupted.

"I don't understand Orion cussing, but I know you don't trust me. I can't promise you nothin' but you're the one on the security cameras, man, not her. Drop the knife. You ain't gonna make it. Vulcans are Federation. They'll hunt your ass down and hand it back to you without smilin'. Drop the knife."

The man hesitated; not long, but just long enough.

...

Sulu managed to pull his communicator from his pocket and bark commands into it while he ran.

"Location tracker, find Captain," he panted.

"Forward. Ten seconds at current speed."

Just enough time to turn the right corner, followed closely by Scotty, McCoy, and two large Vulcan men.

...

"T'voria, I know that Vulcans do not lie," Nyota whispered, "but I need you to pretend that nothing's wrong until they bring Jim back."

"I understand. There are moments when, as a mother, I seem compelled to practice mild deceptions or to omit details."

"I'll do my best to protect your children from observing any injuries or violence." Nyota gestured towards the phaser at her hip. "My phaser is on a safety setting. Please don't tell them I have the phaser. It might frighten them. I made cookies yesterday - no chocolate - perhaps that will keep them occupied for a little while?"

"Many Vulcans dislike sweet foods, as I am sure you know," T'voria replied as her she watched the children uncover the plate that Nyota had brought from the kitchen. "However, my little ones appear to regard these 'cookies' as an important cross-cultural experiment. You may leave at least one for your mother," she said more loudly.

The tall Vulcan teenager, the one who seemed to be training to be both a secretary and a valet, rushed into the room. "T'sai Uhura," he blurted out, unable to keep his voice free of excitement, "Osu Sarek has awoken."

...

The Enterprise men, phasers drawn, and the Vulcans formed a loose circle around the Orion man.

"Cease fighting," one of the Vulcans shouted. "Planetary security is on its way. There is nowhere you can go."

"Surrender, and the Federation may be lenient with you," Sulu called out.

"Yer erse is oot the windae", Scotty yelled. "This willnae end well fer ye."

As though frustrated by the profusion of accents, the Orion man snarled, leaned back, aimed at Jim, and threw the knife. Jim made a low football dive, landing face first in the dirt. McCoy and Scotty fired simultaneously. Sulu's boots skittered across the dusty pavement as he quickly retrieved the knife. Stunned, the Orion jerked, grimaced, and collapsed on the ground.

McCoy knelt by Jim's side. "Captain?"

Coughing, Jim pulled himself to his feet and brushed himself off. "I'm fine, he didn't get me either." He looked down at the torn front of his shirt and a bloody patch on his chest. "I might could use some disinfectant on this scrape here. And a new shirt."

Sulu balanced the blade across his hand as though weighing it. "Neither one of your assassins knows a damned thing about knife fighting. This is the wrong type for throwing." He turned to the uniformed Vulcan security officer approaching them. "Greetings, Officer. Lieutenant Commander Sulu, of the Federation Ship Enterprise. Here's your evidence." Sulu held out the knife to the officer handle first with the blade pointed away from his body.

"Chief Medical Officer McCoy, Enterprise. Pardon me for seeming rude, but are these streets not patrolled, or does every house depend upon hired muscle? I thought that this neighborhood was within the diplomatic quarter," McCoy grumbled. "If it hadn't been for the tech we brought with us and these loyal men from the manor house, y'all mighta been responding to the death of a Starfleet captain."

Impassive, the Vulcan officer blinked at McCoy and responded, "We acknowledge the serious nature of a physical assault upon a Federation representative. However, the ratio of security officers to residents on New Vulcan could be described as challenging. Our vehicles are not capable of unusual speeds. In addition," the man droned as the Orion's hands and feet were secured and he was placed in a security vehicle, "it is probable that other crimes are taking place even now."

"As a commissioned Starfleet Officer, I request an interview with the prisoner, to be conducted by Captain Kirk here and Commanding Officer Spock, with the presence of Sarek and any additional officers and witnesses we see fit."

The Vulcan officer's bored expression changed as he heard the names Spock and Sarek. "Of course," he said, his manner suddenly alert. "I will be pleased to help you make any necessary arrangements."

...

Sarek was calm and drowsy; he smiled slightly when Nyota touched his hand.

"Ko-fu Nyota? Is Spock awake?" he murmured.

"Not yet, unfortunately. Are you well?"

"Yes. The trance was effective. I will sleep for some time, and perhaps join you and the crew for a meal tomorrow."

"I'm so glad you're all right. I will leave you now. Rest well."

Sarek's voice sounded a bit stronger. "Nyota, as soon as Spock awakens, please send him to me. There is something he must discuss with you, and I wish him to be prepared."

Nyota hesitated; the subject was clearly a private one, even though Sarek said it concerned her. "Yes, Sarek. I will wait for him to tell me."

Nyota went down the hall to check on her bondmate. Spock lay on his back. She moved close to hear his breathing. The exhalations were long and slow, barely audible. Sighing, Nyota prepared to leave. She was accustomed to handling crisis situations on the Enterprise. How naïve she had been to imagine that the visit to New Vulcan would be free of such situations. She leaned further over the bed, adjusting the lightweight sheet covering Spock's body.

A light pressure moved over one of her breasts, on the bare skin between the angled neckline of her dress and the low neckline of the camisole she wore underneath. Nyota looked down to see Spock's eyes open and gazing up at her with something beyond his usual amorous intensity. His lips were still parted from the kiss he'd pressed against her bosom and he closed them in a slow, sensual movement. Nyota glanced toward the open door. The Vulcan nurse, who had stepped outside the door to give her some privacy, appeared not to have seen Spock's intimate kiss. She leaned over Spock again.

"Tal-kam?" she whispered.

He didn't answer, but blinked slowly and closed his eyes again, seeming to sink back into the trance. Nyota gently touched the inside of her wrist to his forehead and his high, angled cheekbones. His skin felt warm and dry. He was not feverish, but perhaps she could ask McCoy later about delirium and infection. Her communicator sounded then; she listened to the recorded message from the crew.

T'voria did not complain when a relieved Nyota hugged her and the children. Nyota explained that she had received an all-clear message from McCoy and the crew, and arranged to have mother and children escorted home.

"I thank you many, many times over for visiting, despite the strange occurrences at the end of this day."

"We felt welcomed and appreciated, and your concern for our safety is very kind. My children have received an unusual education today; they may keep their father distracted for some time with their version of today's events." She raised her eyebrows. "I wish you and your crew peace and safety. Please tell me if it will be acceptable for us to visit again. The company of Enterprise men is...agreeable. Do not misunderstand, I prefer my husband's company above all, but your crew men are...likeable."

"It's all right, I think that I understand. I'm very fond of them all myself, even though Spock is first for me. Be kind to your mother, little ones, she's had a long day. I will tell everyone from the Enterprise how much you enjoyed visiting them."

When she was once again alone, Nyota asked the lanky teenage valet/secretary where she could borrow a communications computer.

The boy led her to a small office, the same one where Spock had slept during their argument some days ago. He left the human lady alone, mystified by the secrets and strange behaviors of Spock and his beautiful wife. Humans - and half-humans - seemed to lead more dramatic lives than many Vulcans. He must try to keep his job with Sarek, if only to satisfy his curiosity about human guests.

...

"Gaila? Are you feeling all right?"

Gaila wiped her face with her hand and pasted on a smile that didn't show itself in her eyes. "Hello, Nyota! People need to grow up and treat me right. Otherwise, nothing's wrong. How are you?"

"Honey, what's the matter? I was calling on Federation business; it's urgent, but I want us to plan some time to talk together later. You don't seem to be all right."

"Can't talk about it. Give me the Federation business, quick. I need the distraction."

"Gaila, it's a long story, but I need your help with language support and possible regional accent interpretation for an Orion man. He's involved in a criminal assault case against Jim Kirk. I know there's a bad history between you and Jim, but this is all business. Do you want to deal with it? I can ask a different Orion speaker if you're uncomfortable doing this."

"No! If it's business, I'll do it, Jim or no Jim. Starfleet comes first. Anyway, I know exactly how many Orions there are in Starfleet, and you may not be able to contact all of them easily. I'll help."

"Thanks, Gaila, I owe you one." She reset the channel and her voice took on a professional, formal tone. "Switching to open channel now, recording. Lieutenant Nyota Uhura of the Enterprise, establishing communication. Special language translation request with regard to an Orion prisoner, accused of attempted murder against Captain James Kirk on New Vulcan, from whence this communication originates. I will report to the central prison facility for an interview with the prisoner within ten minutes; at that time I will open a communications channel allowing audio communication and questioning of the prisoner. Uhura out."

...

"I will repeat the question," Gaila said tersely. "Lieutenant Uhura asked if you know how to speak Andorian. Please respond."

The Orion man crossed his big arms over his chest and looked at Gaila insolently. "An Orion woman working for Starfleet? Are you working on your knees? That's the only thing humans think Orion females are good for."

Nyota translated the man's coarse insults while she glared at his sneering face; it hurt her to do it, but she wanted her crewmates to know exactly what was being said. Gaila's face on the screen was expressionless aside from a slight narrowing of her eyes, the only thing that made Nyota think the Orion man's scorn hurt her friend.

"You watch your mouth," McCoy said coldly. "I don't care to hear this kind of talk against women."

Scotty frowned; one hand twitched. "Show her respect. Ye owe her an apology."

"Answer the officer's questions," Nyota spoke in Orion, using the most disinterested tone she could muster.

The Orion man turned and scowled at Nyota. "What freak show is this, with a human translating Orion?" He switched to Standard and turned back to Gaila. "You forget your place. If you were back on Orion I'd straighten you out. Traitor bitch-"

Jim, McCoy, Scotty, and Sulu leaned forward simultaneously. The Orion leaned back even though a table was between them.

"Shut the hell up before I kick your ass," Jim said quietly. Everyone turned and looked at him.

"I know this interview is being recorded. I also know how to call a favor in when I need to. Officer Scott already said it, I'll say it again since you don't to get it. Show her respect. You insult her one more time and you'll find out how much verbal and physical information I can get removed from official records."

"You dare threaten me?"

"Was I not clear? It's your choice."

Sulu fixed the Orion with an icy stare. "Think it over. He's got backup. I already know that you can't knife fight. I know five forms of martial arts and I have forty-five different weapons certifications. I also have a mom and a sister. You want to take me on, asshole? Didn't think so. Drop the woman stuff."

Nyota had considered Sulu a friend for years; now her admiration grew by another dimension.

"Do you speak Andorian?" she repeated to the prisoner.

The man slammed his fist down on the table so hard that its legs scraped against the floor. "Yes! I speak Andorian, and Romulan, and Standard, and Vulcan. All are useful when dealing with disgusting humans and anyone stupid enough to give up their personal freedom and wealth to the Federation."

"Who's working with you? Other Orions?" asked Jim.

"I will tell you nothing. You see I am alone now."

"What is your real name?" Gaila spoke in Orion.

"Thelev," the man snapped.

"But the man I met - that Thelev is Andorian," Nyota said.

"An Andorian disguise can be bought in any large city," Thelev replied.

"Sure fooled me," McCoy said. "I saw your antennae movin' during that party."

"Mechanical, with heat sensors; when beings stood close to me, the antennae moved." Thelev shrugged. "Simple."

Scotty asked, "Exactly what do ye want from the Federation?"

"Dilithium crystals. All of the large ships moving through major sectors of known space need dilithium to power their engines. I have been smuggling dilithium for years on my own ships," the Orion said proudly.

"I knew that you were a pilot," Sulu said. "Did you try to kill Gav?"

"Gav, that annoying Tellarite, wanted to keep the Coridian planetary system out of the Federation. His political meddling threatened my supply and transportation routes. Before Gav got involved, I was able to take my ships in and steal as much dilithium as I wanted; the Coridians didn't have enough firepower to oppose me and the pirates I hired. Gav nagged the Federation about the Coridians, and suddenly I was getting fired on by Starfleet ships whenever I tried to make a raid! Gav was costing me money."

"Amoral git," muttered Scotty.

"That doesn't justify murder," Jim said. "Where does Sarek come into this?"

"I tried to fake tal-shaya when I ambushed Gav at the reception. I waited until the reception to attack him because I knew Sarek would be present. When old Vulcan was destroyed, some of the most skilled martial artists went with it. Sarek and Spock are known for their interest in traditional Vulcan arts, and they would be more likely than an average Vulcan to know that tal-shaya is an execution technique. I was told that Sarek was famous for his martial arts skill in his youth. It was simple: kill Gav, and blame Sarek. Sarek married a human and consorts with humans; he is obviously not a logical thinker and he might have become emotional after Gav argued with him. We-I thought that everyone would believe that Sarek had gone mad, and the Federation would focus on Sarek's trial and ignore the Coridian system for a while."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Who's the woman? Cooperate with us."

Thelev smirked. "Didn't you just insist that I respect women? I am cooperating. I'm respecting the lady's privacy."

"You've already got two attempted murder charges against you. Ain't a single judge or juror in the Federation gonna take it easy on you, but you might could make your situation a mite better with a full confession." McCoy raised his voice. "Who and where is she?"

A taunting sneer changed the pitch of Thelev's voice. "Oh, she's right here on New Vulcan...maybe. I gave her the autopilot information for my ship. Maybe she can't knife fight, but she knows how to shoot a ship's phaser and follow a nav map application...right to the Enterprise. She doesn't like you humans any more than I do. Maybe even less."

...........................................