The Vulcan Captain

Not Quite So Dead

Momentarily, the Surak had been in uncharted space for 2.38 years and they were now allowed shore leave while the ship was docked in New Vulcan's repairing bay.

The majority of his human crew had taken a shuttle to go back home, the Romulans were helping the Vulcan engineers to make repairs and the senior crew was lounging in one of the hotels in New Shi'Kahr.

All of them were currently sitting in one of the restaurants, quite a silent one. There weren't many costumers, and if there were they were mainly diplomats from far away Federation planets travelling to Earth and not trusting the traditional Vulcan cuisine.

A small band of lyres was playing melodic music.

"I must say, all of that shit involved with those Rhoans was rather tiring." Jim remarked.

"You forgot the incident with those Tholians! That was hell!" McCoy said.

"The Orions pirates were also not easy to deal with." T'Leia told.

Shinat shook his head. "I agree that none of our missions were particularly easy, even simple milk runs and deliveries... it seems we attract many kinds of danger."

"I cannae agree more." Scotty told.

The Captain raised his glass in the air. "Let us toast, to a well-deserved safe shore leave."

"To a well-deserved safe shore leave!" the senior crew members said in union, clinging their glasses with their respective beverages together above the central candle before taking a swig.

It was a convivial night for the crew, exchanging childhood stories and how they wished to go on after this five-year mission if they would never meet again.

It was so sociable, that not even the Vulcan members noticed the prying eyes on them.

The brown eyes carefully watched the Starfleet officers engage in their social activities, which would soon be disturbed, he would make sure of that. He left long before the officers left the establishment, back to his allies who were hiding in the mountain caves at the northern side of New Shi'Kahr.

*//*

Shinat was meditating on the bed, no meditation candles near since the air was still reeking with the candles that burned last night. His hair had grown since the beginning of the mission, no longer in the traditional Vulcan bowl cut style but slightly longer at one side where his hair was braided in the old warrior style.

Then, there came a knock on his door.

His eyes opened. "Door is open, come in."

As the door opened, his father-in-law stepped in.

The Captain frowned. "Ambassador Sarek, I had not expected you for another 0.72 hours. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Currently not, but I have to inform you of something." Sarek's eyes shone with regret and fear, emotions not usually seen in the Ambassador's eyes.

The half-naked male frowned. "What is it you need to tell me?"

"I have come to tell you that Sybok was never truly executed, for he was my son, I was unable to. He was put in prison for the time I still couldn't bear the thought of his death. But now I am willing to let go of him, he has broken out."

Blue eyes lowered to the ground, their gaze thoughtful. "Anything else? I have the feeling there is more about this."

"You are right. Your father, Agent Sitak, and your cousin, Sakkath, have disappeared the same day Sybok broke out of prison. It is likely they are planning something together."