Chapter Two

The meeting continued for several hours covering each of the various time sequences and plans of attack to reinstate the original timeline and put the Romulan commander back in parliament where he could set the course of peace for the Romulan people. Given the complexity of the damage done on Romulus and the difficulties and dangers inherent in effecting change there, it was determined that a change of heart in the commander coming back for the 'honorable' kill, leaving them a chance to survive, would eliminate the last battle that took his life and conserve the fuel needed for them to get back home again.

Kirk stood poised, glad to be the one chosen to retrieve the commander after his history with him, yet tight with apprehension and anxiety. He had been on several timeline repair missions, but none with such an all-encompassing moment as this. To limit the amount of effects of their repair, he was to beam aboard the Romulan bird of prey among a group of Romulan officers, any of which could grab him as hostage. One slight screw-up would bring far worse troubles.

He stood in the same Romulan get-up as before, only looking enough like a Romulan to give pause for a moment, especially on the bridge, should no one immediately notice the more advanced transporter prototype's effect. It worked much faster and noiselessly with a beaming guidance system that would place him within mere inches of his target at the only location they could pinpoint him exactly, the moment before he pressed the self-destruct button. They had timed the beam-through after repeated viewing of the log images with myriad minute adjustments to spatial placement, locating his directed beam-through into the portal so he had the best chance to catch them unaware.

McCoy pumped him full of adrenaline for faster reflexes and tri-ox for more muscle efficiency. He wouldn't be able to carry a weapon since there'd not be time to use it, and he needed his two hands already-one for the communicator for his one word order-'Now!', the other to grab the commander's arm fiercely and hope he couldn't be shaken off in that moment with the commander's superior strength and reflexes. He wasn't looking forward to the commander's immediate reaction after beaming back. He'd be far too close for immediate help from the awaiting security, for the Romulan, or possibly Vulcan, reflexes. Kirk only hoped the shock and confusion would delay the commander's reaction.

The vital moment was upon him before he knew it. Instead of the moment of dream-like sensation with the regular transporters, the world around him changed as if instantaneously. He fought his momentary readjustment despite the sudden but slight change in all of his senses-the pressure, light gravity, sounds, even the air felt so utterly alien, tingling with what must be subsonics. Before him, the commander stood, his back to Kirk, his hand reaching for the self-destruct button to his left, already primed and winking an odd silver-blue.

He saw the commander pause, what he hadn't remembered in the previous timeline-the Romulan knew something was wrong, likely he heard Kirk's first breath behind him. Kirk reached for the wrist even as the commander turned and locked eyes. "Now!" he yelled, as he saw the Romulan's eyes widen in surprise. Instantly Kirk felt the arm ripped from him. He only hoped the transporter caught them before he'd lost his grip.

Kirk felt the air around him change again-the cooler, lighter pressure and gravity, the brightness and the almost antiseptic smell. Did others smell that every time they boarded? He realized the commander's wrist had snapped from his grip. Saw the furor as the Romulan grabbed him and screamed something in his face. He felt himself rise by the handful of tunic as the Romulan's other hand reached for his neck. He was dead, he realized, if McCoy or security didn't intervene in seconds.

A hypo hissed, and they fell-the Romulan into the doctor's arms, and Kirk on his ass. The doctor was smiling down at Kirk while he took a deep breath and calmed his heart.

Medics relieved McCoy of his unconscious burden who was hustled off to Sickbay for a full work-up of the 'now-cooperative' Romulan. "You want a translation of that?" McCoy asked, smiling.

Kirk looked chagrinned. "Don't really think I need it."

They started back for Sickbay. "The corridors have been cleared in case anyone might wonder at a Romulan on a gurney, not to mention the resemblance," McCoy said.

"Good idea. Wouldn't want his possible origin to be common knowledge, or anything less than highly-classified," Kirk muttered, still in denial that he could be a replicant. Hoping in vain that he just bore a startling resemblance to the ambassador. But such a perfect match couldn't be explained but by his being an identical twin, or creation of a replicant.

"Luckily the Romulans can't distinguish between Romulans and Vulcans yet!" McCoy said as he raised his eyebrows. "Ten bucks says he's Vulcan and has a certain heart defect that I might get a second whack at, and with experience and better technology!" McCoy's eyes gleamed, but his mouth held a stern line. He had been as disturbed as Kirk at the possibility and had needed a few stiff drinks. "Can't have a future Praeter bent on peace keel over with a heart attack."

Kirk could only shake his head at the irony of it all, and wonder if, indeed it were fact, if the creator of the replicant of Vulcan's 'Man of Peace' was friend or foe. Though an unethical, immoral and decidedly underhanded and terrifying deed, it could actually bring about an end to over a century of hostilities with the Romulans and thereby bring the Klingons to their knees by the possible alliance.

-ooOoo-

Doctor McCoy called Kirk to his office and looked somber enough that Kirk already knew the news. "You can interchange most of the records, they'd be the same-the man is Vulcan and a replicant, or the ambassador is the replicant, which I doubt since he's been bonded to Amanda for so long she'd likely notice even the slightest brain pattern misconfiguration and memory infringements developed in the process. McCoy frowned even more deeply. "Unless of course he was replicated before he ever met Amanda…"

Kirk sat down, feeling somewhat queasy. "Well that opens a helluva can of worms and lets them slither all over the place. Jesus, what are we to do if…"

McCoy raised an eyebrow, further reminding Kirk of a further distasteful requirement-Spock would have to be told, and soon. "Jim, I don't think we have any say in the matter."

Kirk lit up at that. "It only affects Spock, his father, his mother, the whole of Vulcan… Everything Sarek's ever done, ever was, could become suspect! And what's to be done with Sarek himself, for God's sake?"

McCoy stared Kirk down. "It affects the entire Federation and Romulan Empire. I think that trumps our dilemmas, no matter how serious they may become."

Kirk looked even angrier. "Our hands are tied."

"Behind our backs it would seem. Can't even scratch an itch," McCoy added sarcastically.

They were interrupted by the crash and clatter of instruments. McCoy ran out, followed by Kirk, his first thought that the commander had freed and armed himself, or had somehow managed to commit suicide though heavily restrained.

They stepped out to see Nurse Chapel stepping backward out of the room, shaking. She turned toward McCoy, shock had drained her face of color. "The ambassador, what has happened, he's restrained, sir. He looked like he wanted to kill me. I don't understand." McCoy snared her arm and they took her into the office.

"You weren't supposed to be in there," McCoy was gruff but contained his anger.

"I heard him. I thought he might be in trouble…" Her eyes welled. "What has happened to him, sir? Is he going to be alright?"

He looked at Kirk and he shrugged. "Too late now I should think," he said.

"Nurse Chapel," Kirk said very calmly as he took her arms in his hands, "that is not Ambassador Sarek."

Her eyes grew wide.

"But I heard him. I saw him." Her eyes grew suspicious; she stepped back from them. "What is going on? How could that not be him?"

"This is highly confidential," McCoy said. "Not a word. But Ambassador Sarek is perfectly healthy, at home with Amanda."

She nodded, still looking confused, but also relieved.

Kirk noted that McCoy said healthy, not fine. With the ramifications possible, Sarek may never be fine again, he thought to himself.

"I assume our guest is none-too-pleased," McCoy said.

Kirk gave McCoy a withering look. "How about a universal translator," he said, "that might help."

"Yes," McCoy said, "we wouldn't want to miss any further pleasantries."

As the doctor turned to retrieve the universal translator, an alarm sounded on one of the desk monitors. Dr. McCoy ran over. "What the hell!"

"A problem with our 'guest'?" Kirk asked concerned, a hand slipping to his phaser, thoughts of his escaping and wreaking havoc, or committing suicide leaping to his thoughts once again.

McCoy's eyes widened in alarm as he checked. "The pain reading is off the scale all of a sudden! That makes no sense."

McCoy rummaged quickly for a hypo and they both ran for the secured room across Sickbay, but came up short at the Federation Intelligence Service guards that suddenly appeared at the entrance. Kirk hadn't even been notified of their arrival, and with their stealth, Kirk had to worry about their intentions and trustworthiness. But these were FIS and he had no doubt something underhanded and ruthless was up.

"Get the hell out of our way," Kirk growled, slipping the phaser off his belt and motioning them aside.

"This is a serious crime, sir!" One guard complained, though both backed off.

"Not on my ship, not with a patient in danger, and not without any proof of your authority!" Kirk voice rose with his temper. The alarm still sounded as they burst into the room.

The Romulan Commander was out of restraints and stood propped against the bed in what looked like an embrace by a high-ranking FIS officer. The FIS officer had his thumbs dug into the lower back of the commander just about where the secondary sexual organs of a Vulcan would be. The commander was stiffened in pain and shaking, but otherwise not fighting, his arms draped at his sides and head lulling on the FIS officer's shoulder.

"Let him go!" Kirk yelled, leveling the phaser at the officer torturing their "guest".

"You bastard!" McCoy screamed when he stepped in behind Kirk.

The FIS officer smirked at him. "If you insist," he said. He pulled away and the commander fell in a heap to the ground. Kirk could only catch his head to keep him from at least serious head injury.

Kirk and McCoy pulled him up and lay him on the bed. He had paled significantly and was still shuddering, but he didn't seem to notice them. Kirk pulled his face toward him, again reeling at the strong resemblance to Sarek. The eyes didn't focus and the man had trouble keeping them open. He rounded on the FIS officer. "You drugged him!"

"Roms are tough customers. I don't have to risk life and limb to interrogate him."

"That's what the restraints were for! And what reason would FIS have to interrogate him. He's not a prisoner!"

The FIS officer snorted. "If you say so, Captain. Nogura said that it was imperative we gain his cooperation. That the existence of the Federation depended on it. I have Rom protocols that are effective. Sometimes, as in controlling a vicious dog, discipline is necessary. Roms are notoriously stubborn, willful and have a high tolerance for pain."

Kirk had reddened so that he didn't trust himself to speak before taking a deep breath. "McCoy call security. I want two guards in this room, and two just outside." He turned toward the FIS officer, "I will have them shoot you or your henchmen should any of you step one foot into Sickbay without my explicit permission."

"You don't know what you're dealing with," the FIS officer said quite calmly. "It took me weeks to break even the lowly Romulan soldier we caught, and this is a high-ranking officer."

Kirk felt nauseous and disillusioned. He had always heard rumors about the FIS, but perhaps realism and a large dose of denial didn't let him consider such sick possibilities. "Get out now," he said, barely controlling his anger.

The FIS men left and the security men arrived and took up their stations. The two in the room stared at the Romulan commander, likely noticing the obvious resemblance to Ambassador Sarek but knew their job and didn't comment. They were trained well enough not to say anything after being informed of the delicacy and confidentiality of the situation.

McCoy finished his check-up and turned to Kirk. "He'll be okay. I gave him a strong pain killer and anti-inflammatory. That drug they gave him reduced his strength to less than 5% of normal and wiped his attention and comprehension, but that should wear off in a few hours."

"But will he ever trust us now. It was already an uphill battle."

McCoy looked pensive. "I have to wonder how much information FIS even had. He kept referring to him as a Rom. And Nogura's instructions, at least how that man espoused them, were incredibly vague. I can't believe Nogura would have allowed torture."

Kirk stared at the still-pale commander and shivered at the thought of not showing up as soon as they did.

"It was simply a lack of communication," McCoy said quietly, though his eyes looked pained as he looked back at the commander.

Kirk's eyebrows lifted. "…simply a lack of communication! They took his strength even to stand, stuck his mind in wonderland, and blithely tortured what was left!"

McCoy swallowed and stared at Kirk with a renewed warmth in his eyes. "I know it must be hard to accept this. It takes a certain coldness and focus on their goal to meet some of their objectives." His voice was flat.

Kirk looked at McCoy as if he had seen something he had never expected in his friend. "You almost sound like you condone this barbarism…"

McCoy's eyebrows climbed. "Just saw reality too soon. For every power there are those at the basest levels of enforcement. Just what did you think happened to our captives, Jim?"

Kirk stood stymied, realizing he had been a fool to think the Federation so well-intentioned that they might not torture.

"I had a few doctor friends who were called in to render aid to some of the unfortunates under the FIS's watch. My friends got out as fast as they could, and stayed away from any civil work after that. The stories I heard…"

Kirk walked McCoy into his office and McCoy pulled out the scotch. "I've never seen our side torture. And to torture that man. I liked him, and he looks so much like… It just seemed so wrong, especially for him."

McCoy's eyes looked distant. "They have a 3-pronged protocol when it comes to the few Romulans they capture."

Kirk looked up at that. "Why do I get the feeling that this will only make me feel worse."

"You've already seen their work," McCoy said. "First, they deal with the Romulans' willful stubbornness and high tolerance for pain by exacting the highest and longest amount of pain they would apply to any species, until their bodies can't take it anymore and they reach the envelope of causing insanity."

Kirk blinked at this and turned away. "Sounds very Klingon."

McCoy took a deep breath. "Second, they battle their indubitable pride and arrogance."

Kirk looked at him. The look on his face showed his dread.

"They are continually sexually assaulted until close to death. They are treated until they are healthy again, then the assault begins again. You ever wonder where all of the rapists go that are supposedly locked up in prisons. They are set free on the unfortunate prisoners of war."

"The third prong is the worst." McCoy said quietly. "They leave them in a sensory deprivation chamber for longer and longer periods between questioning until they either give information or go insane. But I've never heard of a Romulan soldier talking to this day. As one FIS man in the upper ranks is fond of saying, "We defeat their fight, their ego, and their sanity, if need be."

Kirk swallowed. "We need some big guns to protect him. Even a prisoner gets representation." He swirled the last of his drink before he swallowed it. "I think we need Sarek."

McCoy smiled at that. "He could give them a where-to-for."

"You know what the Romulan commander said to me, just before he destroyed his ship?" Kirk was speaking so quietly that McCoy had to lean in to hear.

McCoy nodded. "'In a different reality, I could have called you friend.' We were drinking scotch then, too. And then you said to me, 'There but for the grace of God, go I.' That was a very close call."

"I could tell he wasn't happy with his mission, that he didn't feel it honorable. But duty is a Romulan's taskmaster. To say what he said, with such regret…and warmth in his eyes, I will never forget that. I have to find that man again. But we may have lost him forever. I need to talk with Nogura and get this straightened out before those goons come back!" He slammed down the glass and took off.

"Good Luck," McCoy called out.

End of Chapter Two (Chapter Three is coming!)