A Huntress is Born, Lives, and Stalks Through My Fantasies…

Tag Archives: Vulcan

It’s #WIPpet Wednesday !

K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild encourages writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is December 4, 2013.

  • I added the month and the date: 12+4=16 paragraphs, post-NaNo edited.

Nobosy offered a favorite WIP for this WIPpet, so here’s more of my Trueborn Warp series Star Trek fan fiction, King of Shreds and Patches:

Spock and an enigmatic woman from a troubled time in his past struggle to save two worlds from alien threats, neither knowing whether their renewed connection will bring salvation or devastation.

We find Spock, kneeling upon the sands of Gol, cast away by the Kolinahru he hoped to join. This scene occurs before Amanda’s snippet, Prodigal Son.

This WIP is set in the time frame of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Within the Trueborn double series, this WIP occurs before Spock discovers whether T’Lys is real, or a childhood delusion carried into adulthood. It’s the companion volume to Sima Garo Provides (Trueborn Weft Series), original fantasy.

I held the symbol of Kolinahr, cast upon the sands as I had thought my emotions to be. I caressed it, craving touch, craving T’Lys, craving the solace of the entity’s pure, layered, logic. Craving, too, the promise of nothingness Gol had offered – and which I had, in a single motion, rejected.

I had not known that I would lift my hand, and deny myself the peace, the prison, of Kolinahr, until I felt it lifting. I’d spent the threeday between alone upon the Forge, meditating, sobbing when I could not resist, but not allowing myself the pleasures of self-gratification – something within me was far too open, too yearning. I feared that, if I gave myself to those primal impulses, even once, I would not be able to stop short of giving myself over in another lifebond with T’Lys….

And still, I did not know if she was real, and had no way to ascertain it, unless I could find her…

I considered that course of action, considered leaving Gol and procuring a shuttle (how I would accomplish this, I knew not; I had released all my resources and holdings to others before joining the retreat here), and simply traveling in the direction that led to her….until I found her, ran out of fuel, or died. I was not certain that I cared which…

When I found myself running toward ShiKahr and its spaceport at midday, I knew that I had not attained Kolinahr, that I had only been hiding my emotions, even from myself. There was no logic in that, either…

I went back to the desert just beyond Gol, where I would not be seen, and turned to the entity again, away from T’Lys and the enticing chaos she had so often brought me.

But, “Sima garo provides,” she whispered, as I left her. Even in this, she inflamed my imagination, kept a part of me to herself, would not release me.

Then, as now. I was still unsure whether I had lifted my hand, or if she had – but the result was the same. I had made the staying gesture, and that invited the touch of the Master’s mind. Had I been seeking that out, all along – another mind to touch, to connect myself to? After so much separation, and isolation, could it truly be so simple as that I needed that connection, to something or someone? To anything or anyone, indiscriminately?

When she had touched my mind – it shamed me to remember, but there was no logic in that, nor in attempting to forget what was etched within memory; etched in flame – when she touched my mind, I responded first as a male, surging toward what was female within her, my telerotic centers, so open and filled with T’Lys, seeking hers, offering, pleading for her to see me only as a male – a male who wanted her, wanted to touch, to pleasure, to claim, to dance, to find the bliss of Attunement.

For a moment, she responded, and there was shock in it for both of us….we almost gave in to it, to the searing, surging power of it…

“No, Spock. I am not what you need.” Still, despite her words, she did not withdraw, instead offering soothing touches to the inflamed parts of my mind and my soul.

“In this breath, you are All.” But it was untrue, even now, and I knew it, knew that she knew it even before she spoke again.

“And what of the next? No. She is writ large in your soul; thee cannot escape such connection, such passion. Perhaps, it was madness to try.” She urged me to the place where T’Lys, cloaked in flames and truth, waited, Huntress-still.

The Master spoke aloud now, her words for the attendants, but all was gibberish. She eased away from my mind, gently, but firmly, leaving the heat of desire to scorch only me, alone…

The Kolinahru turned, and left me. There was neither unkindness nor kindness in it; I had failed, and this was no longer my place. It remained unsaid, but I knew – I would not be welcomed here again.

I dropped the symbol of the newly accepted Kolinahru adept, and rose from my knees. I began to walk, to the only place that I still knew would accept me – because there was no one there to refuse me. It was a two day’s walk…perhaps, time to find myself amongst the flood of feelings, but, certainly, a refuge where I could hide myself.

I felt it. I knew that this was only the harbinger. Emotion was a tightly knotted tangle within me, a heaviness, but I could feel it loosening, swelling toward eruption, and I no longer thought I had any control over it.

There we have it – a man on the verge of crisis. Will he find a direction, or connection? Will he survive his explosive emotions? What will he choose?

For December, pick the WIP, and POV character! If you have a favorite, don’t be shy! Someone decides, and it could be you! This WIP is the default.

This seems to catch the mood of Spock’s conflict….

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read and/or join in yourself!

 It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose of  K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild is to encourage writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is October 23, 2013.

  • For today’s offering, I’ve used the date, plus 1, because I was confused when I drafted this post!
  • Yes, it’s that simple!
  • You get 24 sentences today!

During October, I am sharing the paired volumes, Chameleon’s Dish (Trueborn Weft series), and Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series), while I plan my November NaNoWriMo WIP, King of Shreds and Patches, which I will share NaNo fresh next month.

Bounded by a Nutshell is a Star Trek fanfiction novel that tells the other side of Tisira’s story – her family’s search for her, after her sudden disappearance..

This week, we join Jim Kirk, as he watches Spock learn that the most effective way to help his infant son during his incapacity is abhorrent to him on a deeply personal level.

This scene occurs shortly after the Enterprise arrives at Vulcan, to assist in the search for Spock’s young daughter, Tisira, who is missing somewhere in time and space…

This rough-draft passage is lightly edited to remove obvious gaffes and for style.


“Hadn’t had a chance to mention it to you yet, Spock, because you wanted to spend the time with Kirana, but you, your lady wife, and your son have an appointment with Sirlan, as soon as you are all stable enough to go to the Eripsitonic Physiology Lab….”

“Sirlan? Sirlan is, I believe, an expert in the programming and design of – ” Spock grimaced audibly, and the next words he spoke were dripping with  disdain. “Proxy units.” His fingers became more urgent on Niaan’s shoulders, and he levered himself up a fraction. Jim noticed that she allowed him that movement, but was braced to prevent more. “I no longer have any need for such a device.”

“But Seth does,” Nyota said, softly.

“He does not. He is an infant.”

“A nursing infant, fierce one. Consider the programming; how easily it adjusts to the needs of its user. Surely, such a program could be adapted – “

“Sure, Spock!” Bones  exclaimed, and Spock jumped and clutched at his wife. “Oh, sorry; I got a little too excited. But – why couldn’t they program a unit to meet Seth’s needs, using the same technology that made it so perfect for – “

“Do not speak it. I concur- but I demand you say no further word on any other uses of such a device, now.”

Well, that  was an understandable request, if they were talking about what Jim thought they were. But for Spock to feel shame or disdain or anything negative in response to a machine that had saved his life (and, from what he remembered, very pleasantly, too), was not logical.

“Bones – how long – until -“

“Until I am mad?” Spock chuckled, and there was a hint of hysteria in the unaccustomed sound. Niaan took his fingers in hers and began to stroke them.


There we have it – an unpleasant possibility that may offer comfort to a baby boy. Will Spock agree to the appointment? Will he go? Will the proxy be what Seth needs? What is a proxy, anyway?

No, I’m not telling you – not yet. There’ll be more, in two weeks. 

For October, I’m  alternating between Chameleon’s Dish and Bounded by a Nutshell, so check back next week if you want to read more about Tisira and Henry, and what they are up to!

This seems like a good week for a father/son song – this one for Spock and Seth, who’ve barely begun to learn one another when disaster strikes. It’s also the only song I’ve sung to all three of my children. I hope it gives Seth comfort – and his father, too…


And now – release the comment hounds ! =)

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read what other #WIPpeteers are writing, or to join in yourself! We love new folks, around here!

 It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose of  K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild is to encourage writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is September 11, 2013.

  • For today’s offering, I’ve added the digits of the day, month, and year (9+11+2+0+1+3=26).
  • Then, I added one, because it adds a lot of flavor to the snippet. =)
  • You get 27 sentences (mostly dialogue) today!

During August and September, I am focusing on editing the paired volumes,Chameleon’s Dish (Trueborn Weft series), and Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series).

Bounded by a Nutshell is my September WIP. It is a Star Trek fanfiction novel that tells the other side of Tisira’s story – her family’s search for her, after her sudden disappearance..

This week, we finally learn what caused Tisira’s disappearance.

This rough-draft passage is lightly edited to remove obvious gaffes and for style. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I have written an alternate version of this scene. I don’t have an online version of this experimental version. It’s a far more sexual scene, and Spock is much less in control than McCoy is. Like last week, I expect that I will take elements of both, and combine them in the next draft. I am especially interested in opinions on this dialogue and Spock’s emotional state…likely to be very different in the next draft!


Ambassador Spock, is it possible that one of your daughters was alone in this chamber approximately 4.942 minutes ago?” His eyes scanned the room; fixed on the open cabinet and the nest of blankets within. “Perhaps, within a radius of 5.51 meters from that corner?

“Affirmative. Tisara was asleep in that cabinet when I left this chamber 6.368 minutes ago. It seems unlikely that she would have awoken and left in the intervening time. However, she is not here, now, nor can I sense her presence in my mind, although my wife and daughter can sense her dimly.” He studied Semil; the man appeared grim, even for a Vulcan scientist. “Have you some pertinent information that accounts for these facts?”

“Affirmative.My colleagues and I have been testing a focused temporal distortion wave. The device was in initial testing; there was no intended target. The readings indicate that a female Vulcanoid child was captured by the beam.”

“And sent where? And when?” That was Leonard, pushing forward to confront Semil. “‘No intended target’, eh? Haven’t you people heard of safety precautions? How the hell did this happen?”

Semil said nothing for a moment, and his brow lifted in consternation at the emotional assault. Spock considered interceding, but he decided instead that Leonard had asked all the questions he would have, and far more succinctly.

The scientist finally drew a centering breath, then said, in a neutral tone, “We have not yet ascertained the location or point in time the beam intersected. The device is highly experimental, and in the first testing of the prime prototype. There has, as yet, been no way developed to adjust the temporal or geographic settings. Nor were we aware that the intervening walls were not impervious to the beam.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of uncertainty to accept, when people are living here.”

There we have it – the reason for Tisira’s disappearance – and no way to trace where -or when – she has been sent. What will Spock do next?

No, I’m not telling you – not yet. There’ll be more, next week, and every Wednesday in September.

There are a few songs that speak to me of the connection between Spock and Tisira. Here’s a particularly family-friendly and sweet one from my favorite singer/songwriter. You are most welcome!


And now – release the comment hounds ! =)

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read what other #WIPpeteers are writing, or to join in yourself! We love new folks, around here!



 It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

 The purpose of  K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild  is to encourage writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet Math:

Today is September 4, 2013.

  • For today’s offering, I’ve added the digits of the day, month, and year (9+4+2+0+1+3=20).
  • Then, I added one, because it fit, and in honor of my son’s birthday week. =)
  • You get 21 sentences today!

During August and September, I am focusing on editing the paired volumes,Chameleon’s Dish (Trueborn Weft series), and Bounded by a Nutshell (Trueborn Warp series).

Bounded by a Nutshell is my August WIP. It is a Star Trek fanfiction novel that tells the other side of Tisira’s story – her family’s search for her, after her sudden disappearance..

This week, we begin at the beginning, with the first scene, as written. In the midst of a conversation, Spock collapses, leaving Doctor McCoy to figure out why.

This rough-draft passage is lightly edited to remove obvious gaffes and for style. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I have written an alternate version of this scene, which can be found here. It’s a spicier scene, and I’m not decided on which to use…likely, there will be elements of both in the next draft. Feel free to read both, and comment as you wish.


Spock stopped speaking, mid-word, his eyes glazed, and nearly fell into his chair, slumped over and far too pale.

“Spock?” Len asked, alarmed, and, when the Vulcan didn’t respond, “Spock!

Spock’s breath was coming in pained and infrequent gasps. Len grabbed at his scanner, not even taking the time to mute it. The Vulcan looked far past the point of caring.

There was no physical trauma – but his brainwave patterns showed some areas of highly chaotic activity, almost as though he had suddenly retreated into himself, searching for something.

“Tisira!” Spock shouted, and jerked upright, his eyes wide, wild, and unseeing.

McCoy gripped his shoulders. “What is it, Spock?”

Spock’s stare darted, then fixed desperately on him. His eyes hadn’t focused, yet, though, and he didn’t seem aware of much beyond whatever was going on in his mind….

He lurched to his feet. He finally fixed on Len. “Tisira is gone. From my mind. I must – find her.”

“Not like this, Spock. Not logical or efficient.Give yourself a minute.”

“Tisira may not have one.”

There we have it – a father who has suddenly lost his child. What will happen next?

No, I’m not telling you – not yet. There’ll be more, next week, and every Wednesday in September.

And now – release the comment hounds ! =)

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read what other #WIPpeteers are writing, or to join in yourself! We love new folks, around here!

It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose of  K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild  is to encourage writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.


My WIPpet Math:

Today is July 24,2013.

  • Adding the month and the date (7+24=31) takes us to 31 sentences.
  • But that leaves us awkwardly in the midst of the interaction, so…
  • Adding the digits of the year (2+1+0+3=6), means that you get another 6sentences, for a total of 37 sentences.
  • And that takes us to the end of the conversation already in progress.

Throughout July’s CampNaNoWriMo, I am offering Niaan and Spock‘s childhoods, and how they came to be husband and wife, in the Trueborn Genesis WIPs, The Stars are Fire (Niaan), and Perchance to Dream (Spock).

These WIPS are based upon the26 flash fiction pieces I wrote for the2013 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge.

In this excerpt, Spock, a child of seven, has gone missing, following a heated dispute with his Vulcan father, Sarek. His human mother, Amanda, has been intensely worried for him, but Sarek maintains that he has gone to find the peace of solitude and meditation after the conflict. The situation between the spouses has grown increasingly tense, over a course of days. Amanda has retreated to her study, where she has begun having extremely vivid and strange dreams about their son.

As with all these posts, this is NaNo-raw. I corrected a few obvious typos, and nothing more.

The chime rang at her door, and she sighed and signaled it to slide open.

Sarek stood uncertainly in the doorway, studying her, his face wearing the carefully neutral expression that said that he was troubled.

“Have you had word?” she asked, breathlessly.

“Spock will return when he is ready. I have heard nothing, and I feel that he is alive, and in no significant danger.” A pause. “I did not come to speak of our son, my wife.”

The clue to why he had was in his tone and in his phrasing. Amanda had known it would come, and still didn’t know how she would respond. Curiously, she heard herself intone, “Indeed?” as neutrally as any Vulcan might.

“Indeed. It has been three nights since you have retired for the evening in our chamber.”

An edge of wanting – always, desire was the one emotion that could best him. She chose not to acknowledge it, or how it brought fragments of the dreams swirling around her. “Has it been? I haven’t been counting.”

She turned back to her reading – she had been too unsettled, really, but it was something to pretend a focus on. She had already lost her temper with him, and was determined not to do it again.

“It has been.” A longer pause; she wasn’t responding as he had hoped, or even as he had expected. Amanda could feel his discomfort, but did nothing to ease it. “Will you – retire with me, this evening, my wife.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

The silence was deep this time, and pregnant with his emotions. Oddly, they seemed only to numb her, and she was fascinated to realize that, right now, it was she who was more fully in control.

“May I inquire as to the reason?” His voice was tight now; he had been wanting her longer than he had been willing to admit.

“You may inquire, Sarek. My answer is that I am engaged and at peace in this space, and I see no immediate need to leave it. Sleep well, husband.”

In Vulcan etiquette, the last was a dismissal, and still he stood, for a long moment, and Amanda could feel the intensity of his stare on her back, willing her to turn and come to him. She almost did – and then she thought of Spock, and held. She would not take the chance of Sarek overhearing her dreams, or of sensing them when they touched in the night.

He sighed audibly, and said, “Sleep well, my wife.” And then he was gone.

After he left, she started shaking, and the tears came.

So, there we are…a WIPpet only a day old! Feel free to comment!


Walk right in, and pop up your own WIPpet!


Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read what other #WIPpeteers are writing, or to join in yourself!

It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose of K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild is to encourage writers to move their WIPs to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

Until July, I will be posting excerpts from two of my Trueborn WIPs (works-in-progress);

  • Chameleon’s Dish, Trueborn Weft Series fantasy novel.

  • Bounded by a Nutshell, a Trueborn Warp Series Star Trek fan fiction novel.

These two series are interwoven. The plan is to offer the Warp Series fan fiction freely, and eventually publish the original fantasy Weft Series for sale.


This week, we return to Bounded by a Nutshell, Trueborn Warp Series (Star Trek fan fiction)I played with the math a little to choose today’s passage: Today is June 5, 2013 – But when I chose the selection for this week’s post, I thought it was the 6th, and, since I like this passage, I am keeping it. I also really don’t remember what math I used to choose this (erroneous) passage.

This is therefore a potentially thoroughly random passage.

We find Leonard McCoy, serving as Spock‘s Kiral (a combination healer/butler/assistant/companion/sparring partner/brother-in-law/bodyguard) at the Vulcan Science Academy, where both their families are making their home. Spock is the Vulcan Ambassador-at-Large, and his daughter, Tisira, has recently been involved in a spontaneous time travel accident.

Spock has just spoken to Jim Kirk on the Enterprise, and it was a chaotic, distressing interaction. The Kiral is attempting to “mop up the mess”, while respecting Spock’s right to privacy.

This scene appears as originally written, cleaned up a bit for an audience.


Jim was staring at the screen with narrowed eyes, but he was obviously trying to contain the rant Len knew was coming, unless he could defuse it, first.

“I guess you’ve got a question or two, Jim,” he said, going to the chair and avoiding the remnants of Spock’s glass. “I won’t betray any confidences, but you know that. Go ahead and ask; Spock has authorized me to speak on his behalf, until he’s able to speak for himself, again.”

Bones – I don’t even know what to ask. It’s clear he’s not all right, so that answers that……I guess I could ask if he will be, and if you have anything better than alcohol to treat him with.”

“He’s not sick, Jim – more – well, the Vulcan term is ahk’kah – “soulwounded”. Vulcans feel their family connections, to the depths of their beings. He’s sensed every one of his children from nearly the moment they were conceived.”

“And he can’t feel her, now – and that is – psychically – painful?”

An open invitation – come join us!

“He can feel her, Jim – but nowhere near the way he’s used to, or needs to. Spock – well, you’ve made yourself pretty scarce, so you can’t really understand the way he and Jeniah are with the children. You’ll have to see for yourself. But, Jim – it isn’t just painful. This is a shattering of his reality, and his psyche, on a level he has never experienced before. I’m not going to lie to you, Jim – if something happens, and Tisira dies, he might too. And, even if he lives, he might never recover fully.”

“Why does it always have to be that way, with Vulcans? Never, ‘It’s just a sniffle; he’ll be fine tomorrow, Jim’. It’s always something that could get him killed.”

“It is what it is, Jim. And he is who he is.”

“Is there anything else you can do for him?”

“Me? No, other than making sure he gets food and sleep, help take care of the children, and kept as calm as possible. As for the rest – I believe Lady Jeniah is taking care of that, already.” His smile said that it was the type of care only a woman could provide.

“That wine – I’m not sure it agrees with him, Bones. He was – ”

Len nodded. “A mess?” he asked sardonically.

“To put it mildly. Bones – I think he scared himself.”

“He’s terrified, Jim. And I know the feeling.”


Comments? Questions? Observations? I love feedback! Drop it in the comment receptacle below – and click on the button below to read more great excerpts from other #WIPpeteers!

It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose of  K.L,Schwengel’s brainchild is to encourage writers to move their WIPs to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

Until July, I will be posting excerpts from two of my Trueborn WIPs (works-in-progress);

  • Chameleon’s Dish, a Trueborn Weft Series fantasy novel.

  • Bounded by a Nutshell, a Trueborn Warp SeriesStar Trek fan fiction novel.

These two series are interwoven. The plan is to offer the Warp Series fan fiction freely, and eventually publish the original fantasy Weft Series for sale.

This week, I offer twenty-two paragraphs  from Bounded by a Nutshell. Spock, who is now the Vulcan Ambassador, and his wife, Niaan, have three children – twin daughters, Tisira and Kirana, who are nearly six, and a newborn son, Seth.

Tisira has been caught in the beam of an experimental time travel device as she slept in her father’s office at the Vulcan Science Academy. There is no way to tell where she has been sent, or when.

Niaan, a strong telepath at the locus of a network that spans her homeworld, can still sense her daughter, as can Kirana.

Spock, though, can only sense her through his wife and daughter, and this has propelled him prematurely into the earliest stages of pon farr, the mating madness that all adult Vulcans experience…


There had been the frenzy of his rutmadness for a time, all fire and madness and clutching, seizing release. Spock was as fierce as she had long ago named him, and he took her as his birthright, because she was his bondmate.

Then, slowly, it had eased, as the spike in eropsitone leveled off, as the tension and fear of the last hours, which he had tried to suppress in the manner of his Vulcan nature, exploded from him in the manner of his human nature.

His panting and grunting claiming, so akin to her animal nature, subsided into languorous touches, his fingers trailing over her skin, tasting her bioelectric pulses in a way she knew brought him deep pleasure and comfort.

“This was not how I wished to resume Souldance with thee, my own,” he said, finally, when the ability to speak had returned to him. “I wished it to be – tender, to speak what is within my soul for thee.”

“It was time – before Tisira was lost. I was waiting only for the moment when you were not otherwise occupied, and when Seth would not miss us – and I delight in your fierceness as much as your tenderness.”

Suddenly, with the mention of their son, her milk let down, spraying the bedding.

He brushed her face with the backs of his paired fingers. “It is time to rejoin the rest of life, my own.”

“You aren’t yet ready, fierce one. Kiral Leonard made it clear that you need to tend to this, to give yourself the most time-“

“Seth has need of you, my own, and you of him – and I have need to see that he is well.”

It wasn’t a thing to be denied, even if she were not leaking. He could feel Seth’s need, as she could, and his ears were even keener than her own. He could surely hear that Seth was fussing.

“Kirana, though, will play happily a time longer. Rachyl will bring Seth, and he will nurse and sleep while we tend to all of our needs. Including yours, my husband.”

She had used the tone Kaitiiraan had used to order about all those around her, laced with the tone Tacivaar had used to command the Pride. She had both tones honestly, as her birthright – and with them, the state of mind that would not be argued with – not even by him, not even now.

“While he nurses?” He, in the way he had from his own parents, did not argue, but the question was not consent, either.

“It can be done so that he will not be disturbed by Matehunt, fierce one – now that your fires have been sated to coals, you will be able to be gentle, and the pleasure will be his, too, in a way that will soothe and comfort him.”

“You are quite certain?”

She smiled at his seriousness. “I am his mother, and your bondmate. I could not mistake his response, and I would not lie to you.” She ruffled his shining hair, and brushed the backs of two fingers delicately down his cheek. “Besides, Rachyl is already on her way.”

It was just then that the doorchime sounded With a quiet sigh of resignation, but still not outright consent, he said, “Come, Rachyl,” and sat up, gathering her with him, settling her to lean against him. “I have missed thee, my wife.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said, as Rachyl came through the door, their son in her arms. His fussing had shifted to the spluttering beginnings of crying.

It’s an open invitation!

“I gave him some milk,” Rachyl said, “and changed him. But now, he wants to nurse, and be with you two.”

“Thank you, Rachyl,” he said, somewhat formally, as Jeniah took Seth carefully from her sister. “You will signal, when Kirana decides to rejoin us.”

Seth’s small and tense body relaxed into hers as soon as she drew him to her, and his mind quieted. Her stared up at them both for a breath, smiled, then began to root for the breast.

Spock’s body and mind, too, relaxed as Seth took the nipple and began to suckle in powerful gulps. He was nursing so frantically, he gagged, pulled away, fussed, then grabbed the nipple again, almost as though he were Hunting it – and again pulled away, spluttering.


Comments? Questions? Observations? I love feedback! Drop it in the comment receptacle below – and click on the button below to read more great excerpts from other #WIPpeteers!

Curious? Click here!

We were other than we had been – something new, something born of those dim, past, separate selves – but more, with no division. We were new life and Being…

We were – and it was enough.

Eternity stretched, and we reached toward it –

Here. He is found.”

Does he live?”

He lives – Sense of being touched by impossible cold – jarring unity, shivering into reality.

He is fevered. He dreams in delirium. His mind is strong, and the dreaming is his reality.”

Tend him, Kiral. Can he be moved?”

He must be. The sun will touch the wall in 3.52 minutes. He must not be exposed to it, now.”

Transport will commence in 32.15 seconds, if he can tolerate it.” Familiar voice, tugging, tearing at what we were, straining the joining.

That is uncertain, Sarek. Thy child is not stable; he has been too long untended. He may die, despite our intervention.”

Then beam him out!” This voice touched me, tore me from the dream; from Niaan my mate. Mother! “If he’s going to die, don’t let him die without anyone who knows and loves him!”

In his mind, thy child is not alone, Lady Amanda. Commence transport when prepared.”

Tingling chill, shattering me, dissolving all that we had shared.

Except that Niaan was still there, a shadowy presence at the edge of knowing, at the edges of being…

And then Mother, pulling me in, holding me. “Spock! Spock – what happened to you? My child.”

Leave us, if there is no help you can render,. Allow us privacy, and my wife her humanity with our child. “

He will live, or he will not, Sarek, It is a matter of the child’s will. I will leave you, unless you have further need of me.”

Spock? Son, we’re here – your father and I. We’ll stay with you. Won’t you come back to us?”

Her touch, remembered from infancy, beloved, safe.


She was fading, dissolving.

No!” I struggled, reaching –

He dreams – most powerfully, and vividly, my wife -”

I know. I can feel it. We’re here, Spock.”

Things slipping into place, Niaan tattering, slipping away –

Parted from me, but never parted; never and always touching and touched – I await you…”

I heard and felt the echoes of her mind, giving the promise just as I had – I felt them, and then she was only memory, and it was Mother and Father before me.


Curious? Click here!

“Well met, Mother,” I said, as calmly as I could manage, hoping I had kept my body sufficiently still. Father did not enjoy being thwarted, and would therefore demand a higher degree of control – whether I was capable of that control seemed of no importance.

Spock.” The corners of her mouth were upturned. “I worried for you – illogical, I know, but I am your mother. Still, you seem well, although – different.” Her brow wrinkled, and she looked into my eyes, in the way she had when she sensed something in me that she did not understand. There was little she missed, and, somehow, I found comfort in that.

“I am bonded, Mother. Perhaps it makes a difference in my appearance and demeanor.”

I spoke it calmly, while my blood hissed through my veins, singing to my mind of the sensations we had shared, together, the music a thing born of us both. I could still feel Niaan, a pulsing, live, wild energy within me, inspiring me to recklessness, bidding me lay down, and give myself to the sharing, and to her…

“Maybe it’s best we discuss these matters a bit more privately, Spock…unless you would rather not talk about it.” Now she did smile, even here, as she reached to touch her paired fingers to Father’s. I was surprised that she would do so in this place, and more so when Father returned the embrace, his breath leaving him in a long, soft sigh. I could feel the power the touch held, for him, and I watched, my own fingers caught in a tingling tremble, wanting to clutch at Niaan’s cool touch, to see myself again reflected in her eyes, our souls dancing as one – and to share in what Father felt.

And I cannot touch thee thus, my own, apart from the dreaming. My fingers tangled in Niaan’s bonding robe. The ache of wanting – needing – to touch her was enough to pull a sound from my lips. It was a serious breach of control, and Father’s eyes were sharp and hard as obsidian as he studied me anew.

Then, he raised a brow, and there was something that hinted at understanding. “Even when thee do not wish to share, Spock, thy mind is – most potent, in its sendings. Thy mother is human, and may be forgiven her lapses, and I, too, perhaps, for indulging her, now, even if it is illogical, and unsettling to thee.”

T’Pau, seemed more amused than was fitting. “Daughter-kin, take thy young one home, and allow him as much privacy as is needful. Spock, go now with thy mother, but remember what I have said. Your rights are the rights of an adult, in this.”

“I will, T’Pau.” She’d given me a moment to recover my control, and shifted Father’s focus from me. “Thank you.” I knew that it was not logical, but also that it would please Mother.

Mother leaned forward, just for a moment, and her lips seemed to brush Father’s, and their fingers danced against one another, and Father made a sound akin to the one I had made. I swallowed, and stared, my need for Niaan emerging in a wanting cry…

Kroykah.” A soft word, but a command Father attended at once. “Thy child, Sarek. There is a certain cruelty in so openly expressing thy bond, before him, now. Amanda, take thy son to a place where he can explore and express his own bonding in peace. Sarek, you will remain. Once you have recovered your control, we will discuss the illogic of requiring of thy child, who carries as much of humanity as Vulcanity within him, a level of control that thee fail to maintain.”

Now I wished almost to stay, to hear what would be said, but Mother smiled at Father, and whispered, “I await you,” then, with a hand just above my shoulder, she moved toward the door. I would learn nothing further.

All right,” she said softly as we walked through silent corridors carved into stone. “We’ve got a private courier waiting. And I will be close, if you need me.”

Niaan moved within me, urged me to give voice to what was within me. I stopped and turned to Mother,. “Thank you. Your acceptance of me, that I am enough, as I am – as we are….means more than we can say.”

Her eyes grew moist, and she smiled. “You always will be, Spock. Your father – well, it’s not in Vulcan nature to appreciate unforeseen wrinkles in the fabric of life, and you can’t help but do the unexpected. In that way, you are more like me than not, I’m afraid.”

We see no cause for fear, Mother. To be like thee is – pleasurable. Not, perhaps as pleasurable as Matehunt, or Souldance, but -”

Have you forgotten where we are, Spock?”

But we were dancing, and reckless, and there was nothing but this. “We are as we are, and we will not hide it, here or anywhere else.”

We meant it not in jest, but Mother chuckled softly. “Oh, Spock – your father will not know what to think or do about this – but you are not only my child. I see him clearly in you, right now, as you own what is yours to own. Come, now – it’s best we get you to the shuttle as quickly as possible. You are more than ready for Seclusion.”

The words were a tunnel, and, at their end, was Niaan, and our sharing…

Curious? Click here!

“These, we share.”

 “Pardon, young one. It is needful that I speak with you, at once. I would prefer to leave you with your chosen, to learn and share.”

I had heard the voice before. Now, I struggled, and, at last, there was meaning to the words. I sat up, and there was a tiny aged Adept, just within the doorway.

 “That is my wish, and that of she who is my wife.” I had not said it, or thought it, until now, but it was truth, bringing a rush of emotion too tangled to understand. Always touching; always touched.

 “Your father will soon be here. I suspect that he will not be willing to consider your bonding valid, when no companion can be produced.”

 “It is – most valid.” I realized I was alone, and wound in the bedding. I was unclothed, my skin alive with sensation, as though she still touched me. I wished nothing more than to remain in this quiet place, with sight of the stars we shared, and be with her…

 “Of that, I have no doubt. However, young one, I have long known thy sire, and he is unlikely to accept what he did not foresee.”

 I looked at her. Her eyes were vital and alive in a withered face. I felt, somehow, that she would support us, that it was she who was responsible for my being here, and safe.

“It is illogical for him to refute what is.” And it is. T’lys – my own.

 “I will not argue. We must talk, and you clothe yourself, before his arrival.”

 I saw that she held a bundle extended to me, and I stood to accept it. “I do not wish to, Elder.”

 A soft, knowing breath – and, remarkably, amusement in her scent. “I trust that you do not, young one. You will find the robe soothing, perhaps even pleasing. It is best that you have time – to adjust, before Sarek arrives.”

 “My name is Spock.” Illogical, perhaps ill-mannered, but I felt the need to make introduction formally, as I had been taught.

 “I am T’Pau. Dress quickly. I will withdraw, if you wish.”

 There was a chair opposite the bed,, and the Adept seemed frail. “Will you sit, T’Pau?”

 I remembered the claiming, and my hand reached to my throat. There was no mark there, except in memory. I could still feel Niaan, within me, a shadow of what we had shared, in our dreaming. But even now, she was my own, and she cared not about clothing, or nakedness.

 I sat upon the bed while she settled upon the chair, and opened the bundle – and my breath hissed through parched lips as I touched the sensuous richness of two matched robes, with my family sigil was worked into the breast. Not Sarek’s – my own. I knew it only from the Kiral, as preparation for an arranged Promising that I would not now consent to.

 I held the robes to my chest, and my eyes grew moist. Something within loosened, opened, and she was flowing through me, cool and enticing…

 “Dress, Spock, that we may speak. She is thy wife; you speak truly. Perhaps, by this symbol, thy father will find acceptance.” Her voice was gentle, yet firm.

 She smelled of urgency, and a desire to protect me, and I knew that it was my bondmate who could sense it. I dressed, quickly, and made an effort to attend to her. “I am ready.”

 She nodded. “Very well. Thee art bonded. It is as strong a childbond as I have felt. However, thy bondmate is not here, on Vulcan, or anywhere she can be brought forth to appease thy father’s certain protests. And thee cannot forge such a bond with another, now. Therefore, there will likely be conflict. I will support thee as well as I am able, as I have while thee sheltered here.”

 “That is why- the robes – to appease him?”

 “They are thine, Spock -“


 I swallowed at the hollow word, not spoken as a name, but as a command. “Here, Father.”

 Father stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the sigil. “You will tell me the meaning of this.”

 I lifted my chin, and sat straight under the stare. “It is my bonding robe.”

 “Bonding robe? Explain.”

 “Sit upon the bed, Sarek, and attend thy son.”

 Father obeyed, without shifting his focus. “As thee say, T’Pau. Spock, you will explain.”

 “I am bound.” Niaan’s instincts, and my own, stopped me from saying more.

 A soft hiss of breath. “You will give me your thoughts.”

 “Are adults be required to share such details, T’Pau?”

 “No. Thee art within thy rights to refuse.”

 “I will not open my mind to thee, Sarek. Thee too often find me – disquieting.”

 “This situation is more so.”

 “The difficulty is thine, Sarek.” I wondered if it was Niaan’s daring that moved me. “I am most pleased with – this situation.”

 Sarek’s eyes were threateningly void. “You will produce the female child.”

 I met Father’s eyes, in clear challenge. She moved within me, a huntress who feared little. ” We will speak on it no further. What is done, is done.”

 Father’s face was controlled; his rage smelled like a clawing, snarling beast .

%d bloggers like this: