Author: Laura Jacquez Valentine (laurav@stones.com)

Title: De Re Vulcania III: Space War

Rating: NC-17 (violence, m/m sex, m/f sex, f/f sex, rape)

Series: TOS + Tuvok

Codes: K/S, S/f, S/m/f, Tu/f, m/m, m/f, f/f.



Disclaimer:  Paramount owns Star Trek and the Star Trek universe, including

James Kirk and Spock of Vulcan.  Paramount does *not* own this story, or any of

the characters that came from my brain, but most particularly does not own

Sol cha' Spock, also known as Samuel Sol Kirk.



Archive on alt.startrek.creative & R'rain's archive ONLY.  Otherwise, links to 

this story are OK, copies at your site are NOT.  May be downloaded for personal

(ahem) use, provided disclaimer and copyright info remain intact.



You may want to read "De Re Vulcania I: Waging Peace" and "De Re Vulcania II: 

Preparations" before reading this.  DRVI is Chapters 1-8; DRVII is 9-16.  

DRVIII is 17-24, in eight posts.  DRVI and DRVII were recently reposted to 

ASC and ASCEM.  They can also be found at:



http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/~jacquez/writing/fanfic.html



* * * 



Chapter 17



Jim pressed the hypospray against his arm.  T'San frowned at him from across

the room.  "What?" he asked, irritably, the headache pounding furiously

being his eyes.



Her mouth tightened, but she didn't answer.



"Damn you anyway," he said, turning his back on her.



They sat in silence, the only sound FNN in the other room.  Finally T'San 

stood up and left.  Jim pressed his fingers into his forehead, willing his

headache to go away.  He moaned softly.



He forgot about Vulcan hearing.  "You deserve it," T'San said from the 

doorway.  He blinked at her.



"What the hell for?"



"For trying to kill your bondmate.  That was...almost inexcusable, even for

a human."



"I didn't try to kill Spock."



"Oh?  You didn't hear him begging for his life?  For your help?  You are

far from mind-blind.  You cast him off."



Jim snorted.  "Like he needs me."



"He does need you."



He changed the subject.  "Where's Samuel?"



"Saving Spock's life!  Which should be your place.  But you are too--consumed

with yourself."  She whirled, her skirts flaring around her, and disappeared.



Jim lay down on the couch and fell asleep.



And dreamed.



Antonia's legs around him, her hair spread out on the pillow.  The message

from Spock and Admiral Nogura.  Spock, naked, turning lazily on his side

and smiling.  Spock, holding him close at night after he'd come home from

one of his dalliances, the scent of some woman still on his skin.



The bruises pon farr left on both of them.



How Spock looked transported and angelic when he came.



Jim trembled on the couch.



The dream-Spock screamed.



The headache grew.



Something tore.



Jim felt T'San lift him up, felt her enter his mind.  Felt her desperation,

felt her searching for something.



And then he didn't feel anything at all.



----





Chapter 18: KashKahr, W~lq~n, United Federation of Planets



Samuel could hear T'Li pacing behind him.  He sighed.  She was interfering 

with his ability to concentrate on the meld.  "T'Li."



"Yes?"



"I should not have said what I said.  I was overwrought.  You are Bound to 

my House; I should have treated you with more respect."



She exhaled.  "The cause was sufficient, Sol cha'Spock, son of the House of

my Binding."



He turned and looked at her.  "Will you and yours assist me?"



"S'tka and I would be honored."



Samuel sensed her calling S'tka through their marriage bond, and fiercely

controlled the urge to reach out for T'San.  He closed his eyes and 

let his fingers drift over his father's face, feeling the meld points 

shift under his touch and begin to hum.



S'tka took his free hand, joining himself and T'Li in the meld.



Samuel took a deep breath, channeled their strength and silenced their voices.

Other voices would only hurt the patient.  The healer's voice must be the 

only one.  The healer's entry must be controlled.  The healer must feel.



...Father?  Father, we have melded before.  Do you know me?...



...Father has no meaning for me...



Samuel set about repairing what physical damage he could.  The pathway that

connected Spock to his memories of childhood was nearly gone: the healer

must not only encourage rebuilding, he must rebuild.  The pathway that

connected Spock to his son had been severed entirely.



Father had no meaning for him.



Samuel felt S'tka react to that, felt the older man's terror of losing his

children--a terror made more real by the coming war.  He spared enough

energy to incorporate those feelings into the meld.  And Spock responded.



* * *

Spock walked into the bare living room, his arms crossed in front of

him. "Sol, put the book in your bag.  We have a shuttle to catch."



"Where?"



"I told you.  We are going to Vulcan."



"Why?"



"Because we must."



"Why?"



"Because your Dad is very busy, and we need to stay away."



"Where's Dad?"



"I don't know, Sol.  Hurry up."



"Why don't you know?"



And Spock went very, very still.

* * *



Samuel almost broke the meld as his father's feelings overwhelmed him.

The shock and betrayal of Jim's departure had been so deep, so pervading.

Spock had never recovered.  Had taken Jim back without a word of 

recrimination and let go of the anger, but had never healed.



...Father?...



The connections were breaking, even now.



Spock was breaking them on purpose, removing every memory of Jim. 



Trying to avoid the pain.



Distantly, Samuel heard T'Li calling his name.



And then she moved through his mind and into Spock's, strong and fast,

her Gift a storm across her passing.  The healer will be a conduit, Samuel

thought, as he lost control and fell into the meld, following T'Li 

deeper into his father.





------











Chapter 19: Shi'Kahr, W~lq~n.



T'Pel took a deep breath of the desert air, tasted the sharpness of the

burning in the air.  The battle-rage hung over everything like haze,

green as blood.  She heard Tuvok behind her.  "I've been assigned a ship.

The T'Khut."



She inhaled sharply.  "That was to be Spock cha'Sarek's ship."  



"Yes.  He went to KashKahr.  He has not returned, and his bondmate is

hospitalized.  The Expunged--the Expunged have returned to us, however.

They will help."



"At the cost of the son of Sarek and his bondmate.  Who we can ill-afford

to lose."



"Yes."  He touched her shoulder lightly and she jerked away.  



"Don't touch me, adun."  She felt him tense behind her.  "Our son?"



"Safe at Gol."



She nodded, staring out into the desert.  After a few minutes, he left.



The apartment bell rang, and T'Pel answered the door to find a young

human girl in the hallway.



"T'sai?" 



"Child?"



"I am Sharon, daughter of Thomas, and d'vel'nahr.  I was told you

have medical training?"



"I am T'sai T'Pel.  Emergency training only."



"Will you go to the Academy Hospital?  There are likely to be injured soon."



"Yes, I suppose there are." She studied the girl for a moment.  "Little 

Vulcan-by-choice, do you burn?"



"No.  But the air feels different.  I can smell--"  Sharon broke off, her

eyes wide. 



T'Pel could hear the slow human beat of her heart.  "I offer the little-

bonding."



The girl was silent.



"Yes or no, Sharonkam?"  She carefully modulated her voice, removing any

coercion.  The human was young; a coerced little-bonding could kill her.



"I am d'vel'nahr, T'sai.  And an adult by Vulcan law, though not by human."  

The girl closed the gap between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around

T'Pel's.  "I consent to the little-bonding with thee."



T'Pel pulled her close and drew her inside.



The human cooled the burning, and fueled it.  The taste and texture of

Sharon's mouth inflamed T'Pel's desire, the gentle cool hands that 

cupped her breasts and stroked between her legs so different from Tuvok's

heat and roughness--



T'Pel drew the girl into the meld, building potentials along the nerve

pathways even as she made love to her, as she felt Sharon's delight in her 

thoughts.



...So warm...



...Yes. And you, so sweet and cool...



She lit the nerve-fires just before Sharon's orgasm and the bone-deep

shaking of the little-bonding took them both down into exhausted sleep.



---



Chapter 20: KashKahr, W~lq~n.



Samuel felt T'Li's arms close around him as another tremor hit.  

She looked over his shoulder at her husband.  "Spock?"



"Sleeping.  The boy-healer?"



Samuel yanked away from her and walked to the window.  Her voice, soft as 

sand falling, followed him.  "As well as can be expected, under the 

circumstances."



"We need to take them to the Academy hospital.  Jim Kirk will be there, I

have no doubt, and they will need Sol's healing skills."



Samuel stared out at the desert.  "My parents' bond is barely surviving.

I cannot heal under such conditions."



"Sol," S'tka said, softly, but the younger man spun and snarled at him.



"Do you have *any* idea how it feels to go through that?  The utter hell 

of it?"



"Yes," S'tka replied.  "Think, Sol.  Think what I am.  When I was seven 

years old, I killed my closest friend."



Samuel stared at him.



"We are, after all, the expunged, are we not?"



"And I am a healer!  I should not have allowed this to happen.  It was

my responsibility."  He turned and walked out of the room, out of the 

house, out of the city.



Into the desert.



...Adun!  No!...



...It is my responsibility, T'San.  I must. ...



...It is your parents' bond, not yours, my husband.  Please...



He cut off the connection with her and let the sun beat down on him,

felt the heat welling up around him, felt the silence of his own mind.



The desert understood.





Chapter 21: T'Khut, one light-year out from W~lq~n.



Tuvok wove the mental connections between his crew and focussed their

thoughts on the Orion ships that flitted in the darkness between the

stars.  He touched the Dark One at his side, a girl no more than sixteen,

T'Shan, and wove her thoughts into the battle.



"This is no easy task, sir," she said, her voice strained.  "I am 

searching for water in the desert."



"Do what you can."



"Yes, sir."



He felt her searching, felt the shadow of her Gift as she learned the

minds of his crew and the crews of the other Vulcan ships nearby, felt

her casting outwards into the dark for the enemy.



He and she and the ship moved as one in the battle.  The burning and the

battle were all that existed, all that there was.



The other ships were dropping back to secure Vulcan; the T'Khut and the

warship S'harien would remain on wide patrol.



And wide patrol was where the Orions were.



For now.



Tuvok watched the S'harien arch gracefully through space and through

an exploding enemy ship, and he felt the exhultation of T'Shan's Gift as

it located an Orion mind to destroy.



The T'Khut rocked under him, and he knew the battle was joined in earnest.



He was the crew.



He was burning up.  The ship responded to his thoughts, her weapons 

blazing, twisting herself to follow the enemy with the speed of 

the hundred minds aboard her.



T'Shan found another Orion, and her Gift ripped through the link, orgasmic

in its intensity.  Orgasmic in its effect, as well--she spasmed at his side

and cried out, and he could smell her arousal.



Outside, the S'harien took on three Orion heavy cruisers.  She destroyed 

one before the other two blew her to bits.



Tuvok brought the T'Khut around, soaring in between the cruisers, close 

enough to locate their bridges.  



T'Shan found their captains.  Her wild exhultation echoed through the ship

as she killed them.



Something exploded, and Tuvok felt himself losing consciousness.  The

link began to fall apart.



...T'Shan!  Kill them all, now!...



The force of her unfocussed Gift knocked him down into darkness.



--------



Chapter 22: Vulcan Academy Hospital, ShiKahr, W~lq~n.



Journal entry: My bond with Jim is weak, and I cannot remember why it was

ever strong.  The betrayals are so fresh in my mind.  I feel certain that

there were kindnesses between us, perhaps even trust--but I cannot remember

them.  My son has disappeared into the desert, and his wife fears for his

life.  And Jim will not wake up.  I cannot bring myself to touch his mind,

but the healers tell me it is the only way to bring him back.



I'm not sure I want him back.  But it is only fair to give him the chance

to defend himself.



I've been viewing my old journal entries.  The most recent one, the one 

before I walked into the desert to seek out the expunged, says that I love

Jim more than life.  Why do I not remember that feeling?







Spock clicked the recording off and stood.  T'San and a young orderly were 

in the next room with Jim.  He should join them, and force himself to touch

his bondmate's mind.



If he could stand it, perhaps he would learn why he had loved this man.



He walked into the room.  Jim looked frail and vulnerable on the bed; 

T'San stared into space, hardly breathing; the orderly was futilely trying

to coax her to drink some water.



"Son of Sarek?" she said, respectfully.  "Son of Sarek, I met the son of 

Spock on my way here from Terra.  My name is Sharon.  May I have your 

permission to call a healer to help the wife of the son of Spock?"



"Her name is T'San, and mine is Spock.  There is no need for formal

address."  He moved to stand next to T'San and touched her lightly on 

the cheek.  She stirred at his touch and blinked up at him. "There is 

no need to call a healer."  



"Honored Father?"



"You must be on guard, Daughter.  Do not follow your bondmate into his

danger--it is dangerous enough now as it is."



Sharon handed him the cup of water, and he gave it to T'San before turning

to study the human girl.  



"You are newly little-bonded, young human.  My congratulations."  She 

blushed, and T'San spoke from behind him.



"Samuel refused to little-bond her--a decision I disagreed with.  I am

glad that not everyone is so...tightfisted."  The two women looked at 

each other.  They were nearly the same age, and Spock could see

that they would be friends before long.



"T'San, I must--"



"Of course, Honored Father.  Sharon, we must leave them."  The two left,

walking side-by-side, their shoulders brushing.



Spock pulled a chair to the bedside and studied his bondmate.  "I do

this because I must, because Vulcan may yet need you in this war,

because I loved you once.  Understand me--when this is over, I do not

know if our bond will survive."



He reached out, spread his fingers over Jim's face, and began the chant.

"My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts..."



He explored his bondmate's mind, seeking out the damage and repairing it 

as well as he could.  He felt Jim's presence within him, surrounding him,

trying desperately to hold on.



...You betrayed me!  Spock, how could you?...



...You betrayed me many times, Jim.  I acted only as I should...



...So you're leaving me for her...



...No.  She's married.  S'tka is a good man.  They are bound to our House,

Jim--both of them...



...You fucked him, too?...



...Jim!...



...Well?...



...And how many have there been for you?  How many times did you leave me?

Did I ever do this to you?  And yet--when all I do is act according to 

my culture--which you knew about and accepted--you do this!...



...I never accepted it!...



...Didn't you?  When Sarek brought home partners for the little-bonding,

you offered the proper congratulations.  When T'San introduced you to

her Bound relatives, you acknowledged them as her family and offered 

compensation for taking her from them.  You played by all the rules, Jim...



...I didn't mean that you could do it!...



...And I never gave you license to leave me!...



...Dammit, Spock, I can't do this...



...Then we are at an impasse...



------





Chapter 23: Shanishar Waystation, W~lq~n



Samuel found the waystation on the way to ShiKahr.  He lay down by the

stream and drank thirstily.  His skin was blistered from the sun, and

he knew that if he stayed here for the night, he would be unable to leave

tomorrow.  By walking at night he risked an attack from a le-matya.



He soaked his shirt and put it back on, feeling it cooling his burns.

It was still light enough that it would dry on his back before the 

dark came--before it got cold.  He shivered at the thought.



Leaving KashKahr as he had was foolish.  It was an extremely good way to

get killed--no softsuit, no water.  "Sam Kirk," he said aloud, "every

child old enough to walk knows not to wander in the desert.  How did you

ever pass your kahs-wan?"



"That is a good question, my husband."



He jerked upright and met T'San's amused gaze.  She frowned at him and

continued.  "But Vulcan is at war, and we do many things that we would

not normally do.  Our control is strained."



"How did you find me?"



"Sharon found you."



"Sharon?"  He looked past his wife and saw a small flitter. The human 

girl he had brought home from Terra appeared next to T'San and smiled

at him.  He blinked in confusion.  There was something different

about her.  "How?"



"I am newly Bound.  The House of my Binding makes its home past KashKahr;

T'Pel was kind enough to give me directions."



"T'Pel, wife of Tuvok?  She is an honorable woman.  The Binding suits you,

young Vulcan-by-choice."



Sharon blushed.  "I am honored."



T'San helped him up, and he winced at the touch of her hands on his 

blisters.  "Tell me, child--why does your father wish you to marry a 

Vulcan?"  Pain shot along his left arm and he gasped.



"Does he?"



Samuel hissed slightly, pulling away from T'San.  "Forgive me.  I did 

not mean to intrude."



"No, it is no intrusion.  Perhaps it is because my father believes that

a Vulcan husband would treat me with more honor than a human one.  

Perhaps it is because he cherishes the Vulcan custom of lifelong marriage.

I do not know for certain."  She handed T'San a hypospray and held 

open the door of the flitter.  "We must get back.  The last word from

the fleet was that the medical ferries would start in an hour; they will

need all of us at the hospital."



In the back of the flitter, T'San treated his burns and he dropped into 

a light trance to the sound of the FNN audio broadcast.



There was something about the T'Kuht--wasn't that supposed to be Father's

ship?  He wondered who was captaining her now.



----------



Chapter 24: T'Khut, one light-year out from W~lq~n.



The burning faded.



Tuvok wiped the blood out of his eyes and surveyed the bridge.  Two dead,

T'Shan of the Dark Ones gravely injured.  He signalled the weapons officer, 

Sanat, to help her initiate a healing meld.  They would need her again; 

her Gift had won this battle, but there would be others.



He touched his head injury lightly and automatically calculated how long

he had been unconscious.  Three point seven minutes--not long enough to

worry.



With the S'harien gone, the T'Khut was the last Vulcan ship left on wide 

patrol.  All the others had dropped back and instituted a security cordon 

around Vulcan.  Now he would have to join them--the T'Khut was a good ship, 

but not that good, and he was not the tactician the son of Sarek was.  If

the S'harien were still with him--but no, no time to dwell.  Kaiidth.



His fingers left green streaks on the console as he took the helm in place

of a dead crewman.



The ship responded sluggishly as he turned her for home.



Sanat came to stand behind him.  "Sir.  She is in trance. I have called 

two to come carry her aft."



"Good.  Return to your post, Subaltern."



"Communication from the fleet, sir," said the communications officer.



"Audio."



"T'Khut, return to us.  We go to ground.  The Forge runs with blood."



"Acknowledged.  We burn and we follow."  He waited for the comm officer's

nod, then called for a shipwide address.



"T'Khut, the Forge runs with blood.  We will fight our war on the sands of

home."



He could feel the burning growing in him, feel the bloodlust swelling in him.

But it was controlled now, focussed.  He remembered T'Pel fighting him when

they were not allowed to fight the enemy; he trembled with the shame of it.



Now he could vent this on its proper target.  He began to collect the minds

of his crew, weaving them back into a fighting force.



The Orions thought to conquer Vulcan.



They thought to stand against the burning of billions.



They thought to defeat the unconquerable.



He could almost taste their blood, almost smell it.



The Forge would once again be the bloodstone of the world.



He set the course with trembling hands, his fingers sticky now with drying

blood.



Then he stood, signalled for shipwide broadcast, and began the ritual.



"The Forge runs with blood."



The bridge crew stood and answered him.  He knew that, throughout the ship,

everyone else was doing the same.  He could feel their minds within his own.



"We will fight in the desert, with our minds and our bodies."



He drew his knife, slit his shirt down the center, and pulled the torn 

halves from his body.



"The Forge runs with blood: the sands call our names.  The hills stand

against the sky."



The ripping sound of his blade against the flesh of his shoulders was

echoed on the shoulders of all his crew.  He could hear it and smell cold

metal and blood.



The blood of ritual.



"We are Vulcan, unconquered and unconquerable.  We declare, by this our 

blood, that we shall never submit."



There were three stripes on each shoulder now, two in front and one 

in back.



"We declare, by our wings of blood, that we shall rise and fly; that we 

shall never be enslaved."



He cut the last stripe into the back of his right shoulder.



"We are Vulcan, unconquered and unconquerable."



He turned to look at his crew as they echoed his last words.  The blood

painted them all, glowing eeriely against Sanat's nearly-white chest; 

tracing the breasts of the women and tipping their nipples with brilliant

green; staining the light uniform trousers everyone wore.



"We go home," he said, softly.  "Maximum warp."



----



The End of DRV III.