T’Prynn turned her gaze back to where Sobon and Sten remained locked in their odd embrace. Sten’s every attempt to break the elder’s grip went unheeded, with Sobon’s body shifting in and out of phase and not allowing any of Sten’s blows to land. “Dashaya-Ni’Var-kashkau-Veh-shetau-Sten,”the healer repeated, his tone carrying more force this time. The crimson energy field that had enveloped them both now seemed to stretch, as though trying to pull away from Sobon’s body and taking Sten with it. The younger Vulcan screamed in protest, and now his hands found purchase around Sobon’s throat. For a moment, it appeared that Sobon’s body would shift again, freeing itself from Sten’s grip, but both Vulcans instead remained in place.
“What’s happening?” T’Prynn asked, her hands reaching up to press against her temples as she felt something pulling against her own consciousness.
“Sobon is separating Sten’s katrafrom yours,” T’Nel replied, “but he is growing fatigued. Sten is still very powerful.”
T’Prynn watched as Sobon faltered for the first time and dropped to one knee, though his hands remained fixed on Sten’s face. Sten stumbled forward, trapped in his opponent’s grip even as his own hands seemed to tighten around Sobon’s neck. Sobon’s only reaction was to keep repeating the strange phrase in that incomprehensible Vulcan dialect. Each time he spoke the words, Sten’s body spasmed in obvious pain, but he did not weaken. Likewise, T’Prynn also felt something reaching into her, as though trying to extract something from the depths of her being.
“He needs help,” T’Prynn said, shaking T’Nel’s hands from her and rising to her feet. Sunlight glinted off metal to her right, and she turned to see Sten’s lirpalying in the sand. With no idea what she might do next, she ran to the weapon and hefted it, feeling its comforting weight in her hands.
Ahead of her, Sobon continued to recite the strange incantation, the blazing red energy field stretching and twisting as it moved around him and Sten. Sobon removed his left hand from Sten’s face, extending it over his head, and the field followed it. This time, Sten’s body also seemed to elongate, as though bonded to the energy field the elder had conjured. Summoning whatever energy drove him, he pulled himself from Sobon until they were connected only by the fingers of the older Vulcan’s right hand, and when he turned, his eyes fell upon T’Prynn. She felt his rage pulsing through her, forcing its way into her, but she ignored it as she stepped closer and with a single thrust drove the lirpablade into Sten’s chest.
Sten’s body convulsed, his face contorting into an expression of terror and agony. He reached for the lirpa,hands wrapping around the staff in a feeble attempt to extract the blade, but his fingers slid uselessly along its length. He went limp, but instead of his body falling to the sand, it was drawn into the crimson energy field Sobon still commanded. The field traveled along Sobon’s body and down the length of his left arm, before leaping from the Vulcan’s fingertips and disappearing as though it had never existed.
The wind stopped. The sand settled. Even the sun seemed to dim. Of Sten there was no trace. Only Sobon stood before her, his expression one of calm and welcoming, before he, too, vanished before her eyes.
She felt T’Nel’s hand on her arm as her sister said, “You’re free, T’Prynn.”
Pennington watched as Sobon’s body jerked, the red hue of the vre-katrabeneath his left hand pulsing with ever-growing fury. Sobon’s breathing had become shallow and erratic, and M’Benga stepped closer to gauge his condition. His fingers twitched on T’Prynn’s face, and Pennington was sure he heard the healer mumble something in ancient Vulcan.
Then the vre-katrawent dormant, the pulse fading to nothingness just as Sobon opened his eyes, drawing a deep breath.
“Healer Sobon,” M’Benga said, stepping closer. “Are you all right?” Without waiting to be asked, the doctor reached for a carafe of water and poured some of its contents into a glass, which he handed to the Vulcan.
Stepping around the bed, Pennington watched as T’Nel opened her eyes, pulling her hands from T’Prynn’s face. Unlike Sobon, who appeared on the verge of collapse, she looked visibly shaken but otherwise unaffected. “T’Nel?”
She reached up to wipe some of the perspiration from her forehead. “I am uninjured, Mr. Pennington.”
“Did it work?” he asked, his eyes moving from her to T’Prynn to Sobon and the vre-katraand back again. “What the hell happened?”
“T’Prynn and Sten are no longer linked,” Sobon replied, his hand hovering over the vre-katra,which appeared now to be nothing more than an inanimate hunk of glass or crystal. “All that he was is now contained within.”
Pennington scarcely dared to believe what he was hearing. “That’s it? It’s over?”
Standing over T’Prynn and doing his best to judge her condition without benefit of his medical equipment, M’Benga said, “She doesn’t appear to be in her coma any longer. Her respiration and heart rate are elevated. If I had to guess, I’d say she was in a self-healing trance.”
“You are correct, Doctor,” T’Nel said. “She’ll remain that way while her mind adjusts to Sten’s absence. There’s no way to know how long this healing might take. She could awaken tomorrow, or days or even weeks from now.”
“Will she be okay when she wakes up?” Pennington asked.
Sobon shook his head. “There is no way to know. She may have suffered damage during the Dashaya-Ni’Var.We will know when she awakens.”
Looking to M’Benga, Pennington could see his friend struggling to remain silent, no doubt frustrated at being unable to utilize any of his modern equipment. It was likely that he could ascertain T’Prynn’s condition and likelihood for recovery within seconds.
“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” he asked.
Sobon was, as expected, impassive as he sipped his water. “We wait.”
44
Xiong watched the display on his tricorder, his heart racing in time with the increased activity the device was detecting. Finally, after several days of effort, the first sign of progress was manifesting itself.
“I think we’ve got something,” he said, stepping closer to Tasthene, his Tholian companion and fellow captive. The Tholian was standing before one of the ancient Shedai consoles, his crystalline appendages resting on the gleaming onyx surface and making use of the contact points he had found there. The equipment pulsed with life, radiating a power the young lieutenant figured it had not exuded for thousands of years.
At the console, Tasthene said, “I feel odd, as though I am touching an active power conduit.”
Xiong nodded. “In essence, that’s exactly what you’re doing.” He had observed a similar scene with the mysterious Shedai being on Erilon months earlier. Since then, he had been working to solidify his theory that the enigmatic species, by virtue of its wondrous crystalline physiology, was capable of channeling electrical impulses both within and beyond their physical bodies. So far, it was only a hypothesis, one he had been unable to investigate given the notable lack of Shedai test subjects. However, the revelation that the Shedai and the Tholians shared an ancestral connection within their DNA offered Xiong new hope for furthering his research. The experiments he and Nezrene had conducted on Erilon had lent credence to his theories.
And now he had Tasthene.
“This is not at all like what I am used to,” the Tholian said. As Xiong had learned during their time together, Tasthene was his people’s equivalent to a computer systems engineer. In his role, he had designed and built such mechanisms for a wide variety of uses, including those aboard Tholian military spacecraft. “Even our most advanced prototypes offered nothing like this.”