Long Walk Home

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Paramount and/or CBS own Star Trek: Enterprise, and all characters / places / objects therein. No profit is made from this story.
Genre: General
Feedback: Is this a trick question?
Archive: Sure. Just let me know
Summary: Soval, Trip, the Forge—'nuff said

A/N: This is an SNW 10 reject. I figured when I wrote it that it wasn't really to Dean's taste, but I hope you folks like it! All the Vulcan terminology comes from the Vulcan Language Institute.

The aging Vulcan tread carefully along the far side of the ridge path in order to avoid joining the scree littering the slope and the bottom of the ravine. The sun was setting, but the heat was still oppressive. He had not walked the Forge since his own kahs-wan, more than 150 years ago; those years were painfully evident to him now. They were not two days out of Shi'Kahr, and already his body had begun to protest the physical effort. He considered himself in excellent physical condition for a man nearing his second century, but then, he had never expected to force his body to endure the khaf-sa'akh.

How had the ancients survived the ordeal? Perhaps the elders in the traditional pairings of the past had been younger than his current age. Logically, the sa-mekh rik'kan should be of an age to make him the parent of his companion; it seemed far less likely that the prospective sa-mekh would be old enough to be the grandfather of his fellow pilgrim.

Still, one of the purposes of the ritual was to match age and wisdom with youth and strength, in the hopes of enabling the seheik, the declared ones, to survive their trip from Gateway to Mount Seleya. Soval cast a covert glance over his shoulder at his human companion. Whatever youth the man had on his side, his strength and endurance were certainly lacking in Vulcan's heat, thinner air, and heavier gravity. For the first time since they began their journey, Soval wondered if he was doing the right thing.

#

The silence in the chamber drew out painfully, as if those to whom the question had been posed thought it would simply go away if they ignored it long enough. Soval knew quite well that the petitioner had no intention of abandoning the issue, but then, he knew her far better than the three high-ranking priests who faced her across the ancient stone altar-table. He was tempted to speak, but decided it would be illogical. His only responsibility in this situation had been to secure the audience with Vulcan's three highest-ranking spiritual figures. Technically, his part was over.

"If you wish, I can repeat the question," T'Pol prompted the silent council members blandly.

"We heard your question, Commander," Marok replied. "We are not in the habit of explaining our decisions."

The young Vulcan raised an eyebrow at the silver-haired priest, her elder by more than a century. "That seems very odd, given that your current decision is extremely questionable," she said. "Perhaps you can explain the logic in denying my right to a mate of my own choosing in the traditional koon-ut-kal-if-fee?"

Marok winced at her choice of words and refused to look at her, opting to glare down at the stone altar-table instead. "It's because this—" Marok waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the person at T'Pol's side. "...your mate...is not Vulcan. That much should be obvious, Commander."

Soval monitored the man in question for signs of eruption, but Commander Tucker, despite turning red around the ears, remained stoic and silent, hands clasped behind his back as he stood at his mate's side. T'Pol had obviously cautioned the human against emotional outbursts in this critical meeting. She, however, was less than sanguine about the reception their petition had received--in the literal sense. The color left her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

"Yes, I believe the fact that Commander Tucker is not Vulcan is obvious," she agreed, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm. "But I fail to see how that is relevant to this petition, as I am Vulcan and the request is mine."

Before Marok could respond, the tribunal's second member took up the argument. "It is too soon for a cross-species bonding," T'Pau said. "Vulcan is already in the throes of revolutionary change. A breach of custom of this magnitude might have negative results."

T'Pol was unimpressed with the words of Vulcan's newest pid-trensu. "I find it ironic, High Mistress T'Pau, that you should advocate such caution. You yourself were a revolutionary just a few short years ago," she said.

While Soval appreciated his protégé's point, he suspected it was futile. T'Pau, the newest member of this council of High Masters, was still feeling her way amongst her much older peers. Her political position as Minister of Vulcan had no bearing here, where she was the most junior priestess. However firmly she believed in the changes slowly being effected by the Syrrannite reformation, she chose to tread softly in this more staid arena. If this had been an issue dear to her heart, she would have fought for it like a le-matya defending its young, but T'Pau had her own prejudices to contend with. She wouldn't risk hard-won change in order to confront those prejudices.

Soval did not wish to draw attention to the emotional aspect of T'Pau's response, but it was perfectly acceptable to point out the flaw in her logic. "Given that this ceremony must, of necessity, remain secret, I fail to understand how solemnizing the mate-bond between Commander T'Pol and Commander Tucker would have a negative influence on Vulcan society," he said. "If only a handful of people are aware of it, I cannot see that it would have any influence."

Marok glared at Soval. It was no surprise that he had come down against T'Pol's request. The old priest had been a close associate of V'Las, Vulcan's former Administrator. It was to be expected that Marok would be equally resistant to change. It was also to be expected that he would be resentful of those who brought V'Las's rule to an end, but to accuse a Vulcan of such retaliatory behavior would be an insult of the highest order--even if it were true.

"If only a handful of people will know of it, why is the ritual needed at all?" the High Master countered.

"It is our way," T'Pol said forcefully. "From our beginning, Vulcan females have selected their mates in the koon-ut-kal-if-fee. I am Vulcan."

"But this man is not," Marok said emphatically. "If we open our rituals to outsiders, it will no longer be the Vulcan way!"

Taking note of the purpling of Commander Tucker's face and the vein pulsing in his forehead, Soval quickly stepped into the charged silence. "I understand your desire to maintain the integrity of our culture, Marok. If your refusal to grant T'Pol's petition is truly a wish to honor tradition, it is a logical decision."

T'Pau cocked an eyebrow at the pointed emphasis in the Ambassador's statement. Marok sat up straighter in his chair. "What do you mean ‘truly,' Soval?" he bit out.

"Many members of the High Command, including your former associate, V'Las, blamed T'Pol for the destruction of the monastery at P'Jemm. I do not doubt that some hold her similarly responsible for many of the recent changes in our society."

Marok narrowed his eyes and let his breath out slowly, remaining calm in the face of the implied insult. "What are you trying to say, Ambassador?"

"I wish to assure myself that your denial of T'Pol's petition is not a form of retaliation for her part in recent events," Soval said.

T'Pau, torn between offense and curiosity, let her eyes slide sideways toward her counterpart. Marok appeared extremely close to an emotional reaction. "You dare insinuate—!" he began, but could find no further words.

Soval inclined his head, as if acknowledging a point, even though none had been made. "You are saying that if T'Pol wished to marry a Vulcan, you would not thwart her petition? If, for example, T'Pol were bonded to my son, the ritual would be performed?"

The question, though bland, generated reactions from everyone in the chamber. Commander Tucker turned on Soval with an indignant frown on his face; T'Pol gave her mentor a shaken look; Marok froze, completely taken aback, while T'Pau gazed at the Ambassador in confusion. Even Elder Soltak, who might have been part of the stone altar-table for all he had moved or spoken prior to this moment, sat up slowly.

This seemed to be something the tribunal could finally agree upon. "Of course it would!" snapped Marok. T'Pau gave a quick nod of affirmation. Soltak's filmy eyes sought those of the Vulcan Ambassador with a piercing lucidity, at odds with his prior indifference.

"If T'Pol wished to marry your son, Soval, I would perform the rites myself," Soltak said in a soft voice, like a dry wind across the sand. Then he sank back into his chair, once again part of the altar-table.

Marok glanced at both his comrades, as if surprised that they were in agreement on this. Then he turned to his inquisitor. "As you can see, Ambassador, your charges of retaliation are without merit," he said. "Our decision reflects only our wish to protect Vulcan culture and tradition."

At this, Commander Tucker snorted in disgust. Marok and T'Pau, who had been attempting to ignore his presence, finally gave him their attention. "You have something to add, Commander?" T'Pau asked coldly.

The human shook his head in disgust. "Guess that ‘infinite diversity' thing didn't make it into the new translation of the Kir'Shara, did it?" he said bitterly. Marok bristled at the cutting comment, but T'Pau blinked and said nothing.

Soval took the opportunity to make a strategic retreat. He stepped back and gestured his charges out of the chamber; their audience was over. After nodding respectfully to the tribunal, he walked briskly and silently down the corridors of the temple. When they burst into the harsh sunlight of the plaza outside, he turned to face his young companions.

For once, Commander Tucker was not wilting in the heat of Vulcan's sun. He was too outraged to notice. And he had every right to be, Soval acknowledged. The denial of T'Pol's petition was the result of crass emotionalism, no matter how Marok couched the decision in terms of culture and tradition.

"Nothing like having the door slammed in our faces," Tucker said angrily, casting a fiercely protective look at his mate. T'Pol returned his gaze, understanding the fury of his response, but maintaining her calm. After a moment the human sighed and shook his head in resignation.

T'Pol turned to Soval as though she expected him to do or say something. It was a logical expectation, as he had been a mentor of sorts, her guiding elder, for some time now. T'Pol had no family left, and he had long looked on her as a daughter. But Commander Tucker?

Once Soval would easily have agreed with Marok, but those days had long since gone. He had felt a connection to the human ever since they had worked so closely together to prevent war between Vulcan and Andoria. The young man could still be impulsive and overly emotional, but he had matured tremendously, becoming far more levelheaded and seasoned than Soval had ever expected possible. No. Commander Tucker was a more than appropriate match for T'Pol.

The Vulcan Ambassador raised his head, unwilling to admit defeat. "There is still a chance that we can...put a wedge in the door," he said. T'Pol's eyes widened, and Tucker perked up slightly. "I hope you realize that my last question was not entirely rhetorical."

T'Pol dropped her gaze from his. "I was...uncertain. It seemed strange that you would..." Her head jerked back up, eyes riveted to his face, searching. "You mean--"

Soval nodded in satisfaction. She was a worthy student. He had known she would see.

"Khaf-sa'akh," she whispered, turning her eyes to her mate, her face suddenly alight with fear and hope. She stared at the human intensely.

Commander Tucker shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. His eyes darted between the two Vulcans, both of whom were now scrutinizing him intently. "Cough what?" he asked, nonplussed.

#

Soval grimaced at the dusty ground between his plodding feet. He had allowed emotion to influence his decision. No matter how he wished for his young protégé to have the mate of her choosing acknowledged by Vulcan tradition, this was not an appropriate means to that end. He should never have considered it. A human could not be expected to survive the arduous journey through the Forge to Seleya. In his desire to help the two young people, he was leading this human to his death. The appalling realization brought Soval to a sudden stop.

Commander Tucker--wheezing, head down, picking up his feet mechanically to stumble after his guide--failed to notice in time. He plowed into Soval, nearly knocking the Vulcan down. With supreme effort, Soval maintained his feet, while the human staggered back, exhaustion combining with the collision to buckle his knees. Soval grabbed his companion by the arm and slowed his sudden descent.

With the dazed human sitting in the middle of the path, Soval took the opportunity to settle on a nearby outcropping. "You should have told me you needed rest, Commander," he scolded.

Tucker looked up in surprise. "I thought...it was...part of...the...test," he mumbled between gasps.

Soval's brow furrowed. "The khaf-sa'akh is not a test, Commander. It is a ritual ordeal. The object is to arrive alive at the destination, not to kill oneself through overexertion." The point was moot now, though. They would have to return to Shi'Kahr. Tucker would never make it to Seleya. What had Soval been thinking?

"'Splain it...to me..again," the human said, slowly regaining his breath.

Soval sighed. The young man had to rest before they went on, regardless of the direction. He might as well use the time productively. "The khaf-sa'akh is an ancient ritual which evolved during the time when Vulcans were still a violent and warlike people. It is a means to resolve feuds or wrongs done to one in a manner designed to avoid revenge killings.

"When an individual or clan was wronged, a claim of khaf-sa'akh, or ‘blood debt,' was leveled at the offender. Prior to the time of Surak, the blood debt was paid with violent retaliation, which, more often than not, simply resulted in more violent retaliation."

Commander Tucker nodded sagely. "'An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.'"

Soval raised his eyebrows in appreciation, pausing a moment to watch the human root through his pack for a water skin. Once again, the human surprised him. Soval shook himself and went on. "During the Time of Enlightenment, Surak proposed a more logical means of paying a blood debt," he continued "Rather than a revenge killing, the blood debt was paid with a child from the offending clan."

The human paused in his water slurping. "So...if someone from Family A killed someone from Family B, then Family A would give Family B one of their kids as payback?"

Soval pressed his lips together slightly. "A crude but accurate analysis."

"So, where does all this wanderin' around in the desert fit in?" Tucker flapped a hand vaguely at the walls of the Forge.

"In order for the debt to be paid, the sa'akh-kan, the debt child, must become a true member of his new family. A shared ordeal was deemed the most logical way to...forge such a bond." Tucker's lips quirked slightly at the wordplay, but he remained silent. "It became traditional for the father of the lost one to make the journey with his son-to-be."

"No mothers and daughters?"

"Extremely few, according to the records." Soval cocked an eyebrow at his companion. "It would seem that females had less need to utilize this tradition."

Tucker grinned in appreciation of female logic and restraint, but the smile was quickly replaced by a pensive, almost wary, look. "So this means I'll be your...son?"

The Vulcan returned the human's gaze solemnly. "By Vulcan custom, yes."

"Huh." Tucker sat pondering his shoes and Soval's explanation for a moment, then rose to his feet determinedly, ready to continue.

Soval gave the young man a searching look. The rest seemed to have revived the human. Should they chance going on? They were close to stopping for the evening, and a meal and a night's rest would surely refresh both of them. Perhaps he had been allowing his own fatigue to influence his opinion of Commander Tucker's ability to face the ordeal. The Vulcan realized that the human was staring back at him with narrowed eyes, as if he knew exactly what Soval was thinking. Tucker readjusted his pack on his shoulders and looked pointedly down the path, then back at Soval. His pugnacious attitude said, I can do it if you can.

Soval's nostrils flared somewhat at the challenge. He rose slowly and turned to continue the journey toward Seleya. In deference to his human companion and his own aging bones, however, at a much slower pace.

#

It took a day and a half for Commander Tucker's natural curiosity to overcome the physical hardships of the journey. As they shared a meager lunch in the shade of a particularly large boulder, the human tried to make sense of the Vulcan tradition. "So how's this gonna help me and T'Pol get married? Will this ritual make me an honorary Vulcan or something?"

"No, Commander. But it will make you my son in the eyes of any and all Vulcan law."

"But...can't they just say, ‘He's still a human,' and refuse us again? I mean, I know the old guy said he'd perform the ceremony himself, if T'Pol wanted to marry your son, but--"

"It could well be that simple, Commander, although I don't intend to count on it. What I am counting on is historical precedent." At the human's puzzled expression, Soval explained further. "For the khaf-sa'akh to have any legitimacy in Vulcan society, those who become family by this ritual must be assured of all the rights of a biological child. Anything less would diminish the power and meaning of the ritual.

"Marok and T'Pau cannot disregard the khaf-sa'akh and still claim to uphold Vulcan tradition. The rights of a blood-debt child are sacrosanct." Soval turned a fierce, penetrating gaze on his surprised companion. "They may still bring up the fact that you are human, but as Vulcans, there is no way they can deny that you are my son. And as my son, you are entitled to a proper mating ceremony."

Commander Tucker stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. "I didn't realize it was so serious!" he exclaimed.

Soval fixed the human with a stern look. "Commander, for Vulcans, anything that touches our culture and tradition is serious. T'Pol should have explained that to you."

Stung, the human jerked up straight, nearly bashing the back of his head on the boulder. "She did! I wouldn't a' been willing to stand around watching them disrespect her like that if I didn't know how important it was!" Tucker stood up abruptly, swinging his arms back and forth in agitation as he paced the tiny spot of shade. "And it's not just for T'Pol! Our kids--" Tucker paused at Soval's questioning look, then went on defiantly. "Our kids will be half Vulcan, and they shouldn't be made to feel like outsiders because of it. It's gonna be their way, too, and it shouldn't be kept from ‘em!"

Soval raised his hands to calm the irate young man. Allowing the human to overexert himself with a tantrum would defeat their goal of resting here. "Forgive me, Commander, I misinterpreted your words." After a glaring at the Vulcan for a moment more, Tucker let out a frustrated breath and sat down again. Soval quietly finished his ration bar before touching the subject again. "Your children will be half human, as well."

Tucker sighed. "Yeah, I know. But somehow human traditions don't seem as complicated right now."

Soval had to agree.

#

For all his difficulty with Vulcan's thin air and stronger gravity, Commander Tucker could still run faster than Soval. The aging Vulcan didn't know whether he was relieved or irritated by this. He did know that if the human didn't stop trying to drag him along faster, someone's arm would soon be pulled from its socket. Soval did his best to shut out the distractions of his aching shoulder, his every painful breath, and the approaching sand fire in order to locate one of the many caves that dotted the walls of the canyon, providing shelter for centuries of pilgrims. Finally, he spotted what he was looking for. Digging in his heels, he jerked his frantic companion to a halt and yanked him sideways in the direction of their only hope.

Tucker quickly identified the desired destination and once again became the dragger, Soval the draggee. They arrived at the mouth of the cave in good time, and Tucker flung Soval ahead of him into the narrow opening. The Vulcan fell to his knees, clutching at one of the heavy stones laying near the fissure. He handed it to his companion who fell backward under the unexpected weight. Soval grabbed another stone and rushed to plug the cave mouth. Tucker, seeing the objective, staggered after with his own rock, while Soval moved to secure another. The two alternated, machinelike--collecting, stacking, collecting, stacking, collecting, stacking--for what seemed an eternity. Finally, the entrance was sealed, although flashes of lightning still illuminated the cave through minute cracks.

Soval stepped back to view the barrier, satisfied with their efforts. Commander Tucker stepped back and collapsed. The human's breath came in great sobbing gasps. The young man had been operating on pure adrenaline. Now that they were out of immediate danger, his body was paying its debts. Soval staggered across the cavern and held the man's arms over his head in order to facilitate his labored breathing. Eventually, Tucker regained enough of his breath to tug his arms away and curl up on his side. The Vulcan took the opportunity to sit back against the wall of the cave, trying to calm his own shaky respiration.

When the uneven chorus of strained breathing calmed, Tucker rolled over onto his back and eyed the Vulcan. "Hey, Soval? I know this shared suffering is supposed to make us close like family and all, but right now I just wanna slap the snot outta you for dragging me into this."

Soval eased himself in a more comfortable position and returned the human's glare. "I would advise against expending energy unnecessarily at this time."

The human was still chuckling over this as the light began to fade.

#

"Hey, Soval?"

The Vulcan Ambassador struggled awake, gazing muzzily around the darkened cave. The stabbing pain in his spine reminded him he had very foolishly fallen asleep half-propped against the cave wall. A brief flash told him the sand fire storm had not yet abated. It also gave him a glimpse of a dirty, stubbled human face, turned inquiringly in his direction. "Yes, Commander?"

"The kids who did this blood debt thing. Did they ever go back to their own families?"

Soval stared through the darkness in the direction of the question. "That would have defeated the purpose of the ordeal."

"Yeah, but...Well, did they just give up all contact with their original families, then?"

The Vulcan remained silent, trying to puzzle out the purpose of these questions. "I don't know, Commander. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wonderin' about my folks. Will I have to not see them anymore?"

Tucker's plaintive inquiry jolted the Vulcan to full awareness; Soval had never given the human's parents a moment's thought. Indeed, as a widower who no longer had children of his own, it had never occurred to him that his companion was not similarly without family. How could he have overlooked such an important detail? "I don't know, Commander. I did not think to research that aspect of the tradition."

"Oh." The human's response was small, almost sad. Soval realized then that Commander Tucker was perfectly willing to give up his family for T'Pol. The Vulcan Ambassador winced, recalling his earlier accusation that the human did not understand the seriousness of Vulcan tradition. It appeared that Commander Tucker understood better than Soval himself.

He sought to reassure the young man. "Commander, I do not think the khaf-sa'akh-kan could be expected to completely cut himself off from his original family. In fact, as most of these feuds occurred between individuals and clans that lived in close proximity to one another, avoiding one's previous relations would have been extremely impractical."

A soft breath of relief sounded from the far side of the cave. "That's good. ‘Cause it'd be pretty hard on my mom, I think." From the human's tone, Soval suspected Tucker's mother was not the only person who would find such a situation difficult.

They lay in silence for some time. Soval was nearly fading off to sleep when Commander Tucker's voice roused him again.

"Hey, Soval?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Does this mean I get to call you ‘Dad'?"

Soval sighed. "Go to sleep, Commander."

#

It wasn't until Mount Seleya loomed large on the horizon that the reality of the situation caught up with Soval. As he gazed up at the stately pinnacle, the thought struck him full force: This human will be my son.

Commander Tucker would be his son, in both name and fact. What would that entail? How close a relationship would they be expected to have? How close a relationship could they have? He had mentioned a son's rights to the human, but what about the responsibilities? Would the young man be willing to accept them? Willing or not, would Tucker be capable of accepting them, alien that he was?

Soval attempted to force the doubts from his mind. Unfortunately, Commander Tucker's incessant questioning made ignoring the issue nearly impossible. Soval supposed he should be glad that his son-to-be was so curious. It was a sign of intelligence. How was one to learn, if one did not ask questions? But constantly? Silence would certainly have been a blessing at this point of their journey.

"Hey, Soval?"

The Ambassador was tempted to pick up the pace. Tucker wouldn't be able to pester him with questions if he lacked the breath to do so. Soval banished the unworthy idea from his head. "Yes, Commander?"

"What happens once we get to Mount Seleya?"

"We will separate for a day of silent meditation." Soval was greatly looking forward to that aspect of the ceremony. "Then the head priest will join us in the keshtan van-kal."

"The what?"

"The birth ceremony. You will be ‘born' into my family."

Tucker digested the information, allowing Soval to enjoy half a kilometer of silence. "What happens at this ceremony?" Trepidation had crept into the human's voice.

"The priest will assist us in forming a psychic link, similar to a mind meld. It is intended to facilitate the sharing of memories."

This time the silence lasted only a moment. "Guess that makes sense. That's one aspect of bein' family the hike in the desert doesn't cover."

Soval nearly tripped jerking around to stare at the human. Tucker drew up short, startled by the sudden scrutiny. After a charged silence, the Vulcan said, "You are very astute, Commander."

The human grinned wryly and shrugged. "I do have a little experience bein' part of a family, you know."

The Vulcan resumed walking. "Perhaps that is a good thing, Commander. I myself am out of practice."

To Soval's surprise, his cryptic comment drew no questions. They trudged along in agreeable silence for nearly two kilometers before the human's next bout of curiosity.

"Hey, Soval."

The Vulcan Ambassador closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath. "Yes, Commander."

"When we're...family...are you still gonna call me ‘Commander'?"

Soval glanced over his shoulder. The human's expression was quizzical, not mischievous; the question was legitimate. "In public, of course. It is inappropriate to bring familial issues into a professional situation."

Tucker chewed on that for less than ten meters. "What about in private?"

"I will address you by your name." Soval paused before clarifying his statement. "Your Vulcan name."

"I'm gonna get a Vulcan name?" Tucker sounded intrigued, even a bit enthusiastic. "When?"

"After your ‘birth' on Seleya."

"From the priest?"

Soval gave the human a sour look. "As in most cultures, Commander, Vulcan children are named by their parents."

"Oh." Soval ignored Tucker's expectant look, but he knew it only delayed the inevitable. Eventually, the human realized his Vulcan companion was not going to elaborate. "So, do you have a name in mind?"

"I hadn't given it much thought." Tucker looked crestfallen at this admission. Soval experienced a twinge of remorse. "Vulcans sometimes give their children the name of an ancestor, as humans do. I was named after Sov-Vahl, my third forefather."

"Does it mean anything, in your language?"

"I believe it translates as ‘gift of the air' in human speech."

This drew raised eyebrows and pursed lips from his young companion. "That's real poetic!"

Soval glared over his shoulder at the human. "Vulcans are capable of poetry, Commander." Tucker smiled sheepishly and spread his hands apart slightly, as if to apologize. Before Soval could decide whether or not to pursue the matter, they were interrupted by a high pitched screech.

Tucker jerked about in the direction of the noise. "What the hell--?" A large, intimidating form was moving rapidly in their direction.

"Sehlat! Climb!" To emphasize his point, Soval grabbed the human's arm and flung him toward the slope leading to the top of the ravine. He followed hastily as Tucker scrambled on all fours up the steep, rocky incline. Suddenly the stones beneath Soval's feet gave way, and he felt himself begin to slide. Arms flailing, he fought the gravity dragging him down, but the gravel continued to give beneath his hands and feet. When the screeching seemed right on top of him, he looked desperately over his shoulder.

The sehlat was at the floor of the canyon only a few meters below. In its eagerness, it was standing with its forefeet up on the slope, pawing at the shale in the hopes of bringing its prey closer. Soval knew he should continue to climb, but he couldn't force himself to look away from the predator. The thought of the fangs piercing him from behind as he tried to flee was intolerable. He attempted to crawl backward while keeping an eye on the sehlat, but the sliding stones prevented him from gaining more than a few centimeters. The predator screeched triumphantly and stretched toward the hapless Vulcan.

Without warning, a heavy object thumped into the sehlat's side. The animal squealed and turned to snap at its attacker, only to find a large stone. Soval tore his eyes from the carnivore to see Commander Tucker level with him on the slope, but a good twenty meters farther down the ridge. The human was in the act of flinging another rock, which caught the sehlat in the chest as it turned. The animal snarled and took a few steps toward the human, before it glanced back up at Soval, hesitating. The creature was intelligent enough to know that it was being lured from a sure meal, but two more well-aimed stones decided the matter, and it went charging down the canyon after the human.

Soval took the opportunity to face the slope again, carefully moving one hand and foot at a time, so as not to disturb the now quiescent scree. A quick glance to his left showed Commander Tucker scrabbling to keep even with him on the slope, then turning to fling more rocks. Slowly and painfully, they made their way to the top of the ridge, leaving the irate sehlat screeching in frustration below them.

At the top, Soval handed the panting human his own water skin. While Tucker took a long pull from the container, the Vulcan pondered the animal pacing up and down the canyon floor. After a moment, his companion came up for air. "So what's the Vulcan word for ‘lucky'?"

Soval did not take his attention off the sehlat. "There is none. Vulcans do not believe in luck."

Tucker sighed. "Too bad. I was thinkin' it might be a good name."

Now Soval turned to his companion, raising an eyebrow. "Actually, I was just thinking that 'lautuv' might be appropriate."

"Lautuv? What's that mean?"

"'Stubborn.'"

Tucker grinned and handed back the water skin.

#

A sense of peace filled Soval as he sat in the silent chamber provided by the priests of Seleya. He felt clean, and not just because he had bathed and changed into fresh robes before meditating. The sand fire, the aches and pains, the company of the loquacious human, the sehlat--all had served to cleanse his soul. His body was exhausted, but his katra felt renewed. He knew now that he had made the correct decision, not just for T'Pol and her mate, but for himself, as well.

Upon their arrival at the Temple--stinking, filthy, and utterly spent--the aging Vulcan had wanted nothing more than to lie down and never get up. Indeed, the makeshift cot in his private chamber had seemed far more attractive than the meditation cushions. But duty and tradition forced him to the cushions first. Once there, age-old habits took over, and before he realized it, he had floated through more than two hours in a soothing trancelike state.

Soval wondered if Commander Tucker were meditating or sleeping. He suspected the latter, although he did not begrudge the human the rest. Only the young man's tenacity had made their final push up the rarely-used mountain path possible. Soval had taken one look up from the foot of Seleya and his will had quailed.

"Commander, I do not believe..." Soval hesitated, unwilling to admit his own weakness. "Mount Seleya is over 4,000 meters high. You have already pushed yourself to your physical limits. You may not survive the climb."

White teeth flashed in the human's weary, dust-plastered face. "If I don't give it a shot, T'Pol will kill me." Tucker rose unsteadily to his feet. "Six ‘a one, half-a-dozen of the other."

The brave smile had inevitably faded, but the human's dogged determination never did. In the face of Tucker's unwavering resolve, Soval could not indulge his own weakness and fear. Staggering, lightheaded, clutching Soval's robe at the last ascent like a small child, the young man had continued to put one foot in front of the other until they crested the ridge that surrounded the Sanctuary. There Soval had to force his companion to stop and look up. "You may rest now, Commander. We have arrived."

The human listed to one side, staring at the ancient pillars of the Sanctuary in dazed surprise. "Oh. Good." Then he slowly melted, as if made of wax, ending in a puddle at Soval's feet. The Vulcan experienced a moment of distress and knelt creakily to reassure himself that his companion still lived. When he looked up, Soval found himself surrounded by small group of curious junior priests and acolytes from the Sanctuary.

Gripping the shoulder of his unconscious son-to-be, Soval stared defiantly at his audience. "We have come to resolve the blood debt," he said harshly, before wilting at his companion's side.

#

Commander Tucker, Soval was relieved to note, seemed to have suffered no lasting ill effects from their ordeal. Though the human moved stiffly beneath his new robes and his face, scorched by sunburn, was drawn with lingering fatigue, his eyes were as bright and inquisitive as ever. Tucker's face lit up at seeing Soval, but the human quickly reined in his enthusiasm with a guilty glance at the acolyte who was leading him to the ceremonial chamber.

Soval allowed himself a solemn nod of greeting, but, in deference to the silence of the Sanctuary, did not speak. Tucker, intimidated by the austere atmosphere and alien customs, followed his lead. Their guides stepped aside at the entrance to an ancient ceremonial cavern, and after a moment's hesitation, Tucker and Soval advanced, side by side, toward the waiting priest.

As sa-mekh-rik'kan, the childless parent, Soval took his place at the priest's right hand. He then nodded the nervous young human to a place opposite him, at the priest's left. Tucker's eyes darted around, taking in the altar behind the priest, the torches that lined the cavern, and the ancient trensu who stood waiting patiently to begin the keshtan van-kal. After completing their circuit of the ceremonial chamber, the human's eyes sought Soval's in a kind of panic.

Slowly and stiffly, the Vulcan sank to his knees. With a gulp and a timid glance at the priest, Commander Tucker followed suit. Soval held the human's glance reassuringly as they knelt facing each other. His attempts to calm the young man were unsuccessful: Tucker flinched when the priest finally spoke.

"Why come ye here, to the heart of Vulcan?"

Again Soval led by example. "I come to claim the blood debt." He then nodded encouragement at Tucker, raising his eyebrows to indicate that a response from the human was expected, as well.

The young man cleared his throat. "I come to...to pay the blood debt." Tucker's voice was hoarse and shaky.

The priest turned his attention to Soval. "Do you accept this payment offered, as recompense for the child that was lost?"

"I do." Soval watched Tucker intently for some sign of surprise at this revelation. When the human returned his gaze steadily, Soval realized the young man must have worked out the truth for himself. It explained why the overly curious human had asked no questions about Soval's family.

The priest turned back to Tucker. "And do you offer your life freely, in payment of this debt?"

"I do." Tucker's voice was more confident now.

"Then you will be born into the family of Soval, son of Sahriv, son of Sehrak," the priest said with finality. He stretched his arms out, placing one hand gently along the cheekbones of each of the supplicants. At this signal, Soval placed his own hand on the other side of Tucker's face. The human tentatively returned the gesture.

Whether it was the assistance of the priest or the crystal clear mental state created by ordeal and meditation, Soval found himself in the human's mind before he had finished speaking the first phase, "My mind to your mind." He had thought himself prepared for the experience, but his first touch of the young man's thoughts and feelings quickly divested him of that misapprehension.

Commander Tucker's memories flooded into Soval's brain faster than he could identify or acknowledge them. The Vulcan could scarcely manage a taste of their import, let alone savor their unique flavor. The pain of a skinned knee. Elation at sliding into home plate headfirst. Swinging from a rope, then letting go to plunge into icy water. Yelping in terrified delight at a horror movie. Awkward adolescent groping in the rear seat of a ground vehicle. Profound satisfaction in taking things apart. Pride in putting them back together, in better condition than the original.

Starfleet. Warp drive. Excitement! Discovery! Disappointment. Shock. Fear! Failure. Shame. Guilt.

Pain. Lizzie, get out of there! Anger. Xindi. Rage. Revenge.

Healing. T'Pol. Affection. Passion. Love.

Love. Love. Love. Love!

Soval felt the priest's mental nudge through the fire of human emotion. As he drew back into himself, the depth of the feeling left in him a profound ache for his own cherished mate, dead these many years. He had truly been alone too long.

As suddenly as it had begun, the rite was over. He was no longer a young, vibrant, passionate human, but a lonely, bitter, old Vulcan with too many aches and pains, kneeling on a cold, stone floor in a drafty cavern. As the priest stepped away from them, Soval's eyes regained their focus and took in the tearstained face of the man before him. The pain of the keshtan van-kal ran both ways.

"I'm sorry," Tucker whispered. "I'm so sorry." At first, Soval could not understand why the young man was apologizing. Then he realized that the human was offering condolence and sympathy for Soval's own pain, his loss and loneliness.

Soval reached out and gripped the young man's shoulders firmly. "There is no need to feel sorry, sa-fu. Birth is a painful experience. For all involved."

#

Soval sat with his son, awaiting the sound of the ceremonial gong that would call them to the Place of Meeting, contemplating with satisfaction the turn his life had taken. When he had made the decision all so impulsively, he'd had no idea it would lead him to such peace. And he had to admit to a certain malicious enjoyment at the look on Marok's face when Shihvek, son of Soval, son of Sahriv, stood before the tribunal and announced his intention take as his mate T'Pol, daughter of T'Les, daughter of T'Lara. It was unworthy of him, but Soval felt smugly vindicated, just the same.

His son was less serene, but then, it was his wedding day. Some nervousness was to be expected. The young man fidgeted with his robes, then rose and paced, exasperated. "What's taking them so long?"

Soval sighed and stood up to re-straighten his son's robes. "Peace, sa-fu. You have come this far. Surely you can be patient a little longer."

The young man nodded in resignation and returned to his seat. After some silence, he said shyly, "Sa-mekh?" Soval nearly smiled at the clumsy, yet sincere pronunciation of their new relationship.

"Yes, sa-fu?"

"You never told me what my name meant."

The Vulcan looked at his son's eager, earnest face, somewhat distracted by the nose, which was peeling from sunburn. "'Shihvek' is a wedge," he said absently.

The young man's face fell. "A what? A wedge?"

Soval nodded calmly. Noting his son's baffled look, he continued. "It is a small device, shaped like a triangle."

An ominous scowl replaced the confused look. "I know what is is!"

Soval raised an eyebrow at the angry tone, and the young man quieted, although his feathers were obviously still ruffled. "Though a simple tool, it is invaluable." The scowl faded back to confusion. Soval leaned back against the wall and said softly, "It prevents the door from closing."

"Oh!" The young man looked enlightened, then delighted, then down at his feet in embarrassment, then back up at his father. He cleared his throat. "It's...it's a good name. I like it."

Soval inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment, while politely ignoring his son's glistening eyes. Teaching the young man to control his emotions would take some work.

A sudden, brassy reverberation caused the young man to leap to his feet in excitement and panic. "It's time!"

Soval held up his hands placatingly. "Sa-fu, you must be serene. And solemn," he said. "However eager you are to have T'Pol as your mate, a Vulcan does not sprint to the Place of Meeting, Shihvek." His son grinned sheepishly. Soval's expression became foreboding. "And he most certainly does not smile!"

"Right! Serene. Solemn. No smiling. Got it." As the young man schooled his features, Soval straightened the robes one last time, gave his son a gentle push toward the sound of the gong, and followed him through the open door.