Fellowship & Fairydust

The air up here was so thin that it left him gasping. Sulu had done his share of high-altitude hiking on Earth, but Earth had nothing on this. At base camp on Everest the air was raw and sparse, but it was also chilly. Here the temperature was already pushing towards forty degrees Celsius, and the sun was barely over the horizon. The tri-ox in his bloodstream made the most of every atom of oxygen in the air, but still he felt as if he were suffocating in a dry heat sauna.

At the thought of climbing in the coolness of the dawn he had declined the shuttle ride, but now he put his hands on his hips and pulled in air. Fun was an exaggeration, but he had made it to the plateau where Gol was situated, and there was a sense of achievement in that.

He looked about, wondering where he would go to find Spock. There were no helpful signs pointing him to reception. There were just winding stone paths and occasional steps carved into the rock, and what looked like far off entrances into the side of the mountain itself. The chambers of Gol, he knew, were largely excavated from the hillside rather than built outside in the hot air.

But then he saw a figure on the edge of the plateau, hooded and robed and standing against the light of the rising sun. It could be any number of Vulcans, but he had seen that frame and that stance so many times over the years, standing on the upper level of the bridge speaking to the captain or taking stock of the surroundings on a landing party or preparing to tell a subordinate officer exactly why their work was not up to standard. That was Spock. He knew it was Spock.

He lengthened his stride to cover the ground more quickly. Somehow, he did not feel able to call out his name. It was so quiet here that to shout across that distance would be sacrilegious. The only sounds were wind scudding sand on stone, the occasional call of a creature that Sulu had no name for, and the sudden sharp crack as rocks heated up another degree after the relative chill of night.

“Mr Spock?’ he said as he got closer to the white-robed figure.

Spock was standing so close to the edge of the plateau that he could have been preparing to make a base jump, although that exhilarating sport would be very unwise on a planet with as thin an atmosphere as Vulcan. The land dropped away just four feet in front of him in an almost sheer cliff to the flat plain below. On the other side of the vast gap mountains rose again, the sun making them burn like ragged sheets of copper against the horizon.

At Sulu’s voice the Vulcan turned. He stared at the human for a moment with a slight puzzlement in his eyes, as if he were looking back into banks of memory and fitting the face to a name. Then he said with a hint of query in his voice, “Commander Sulu?”

Sulu allowed a grin to spread over his face. Chekov had told him that Spock had repeatedly referred to him as Ensign, but he had apparently remembered Sulu’s rank flawlessly.

“Yes, Mr Spock.” he said.

He had dithered for too long about visiting the Vulcan. He remembered going to bust McCoy out of that mental hospital he had been incarcerated in when he had Spock’s Katra jostling inside his head. He had hated the place. He had been expecting something of the same here; but it was not the same. It was just Spock and him, and the heat and the rocks around them. Spock was not mad. He was just – lost.

“Commander, I hope you have familiarised yourself fully with the schematics of the Klingon ship prior to our return to Earth.” Spock said, surprising Sulu with his directness.

“Er – yes, sir, I have.” he said. He had not realised that Spock had even known about their intentions to take the bird of prey to Earth.

“That is good.” Spock said.

“Our return?” Sulu asked tentatively.

Spock did not reply. Instead he turned to look back at the sun, which had gathered itself up and was spreading its force along the edge of the mountains in a shimmering, molten ball. Spock could gaze straight at that brightness without flinching. It was less vibrant than Sol, but still Sulu could not look at it without squinting his eyes into narrow lines.

A frown furrowed the Vulcan’s forehead as he said, “I am told that a great many of my – friends – were instrumental in recovering my body from the Genesis planet.” he said. “Yourself, Mr Chekov, Ms Uhura, Jim, of course, and Dr McCoy – have all risked your future freedom in order to bring my corpse back to Vulcan. You had no hope of finding my body alive.”

“Er – well, that’s true, sir.” Sulu said rather awkwardly.

“Why would you do this?” Spock asked, his forehead still creased with confusion.

“Because – “ Sulu drew in another breath of thin air, feeling that it was important to choose his words very carefully. “Because as a colleague – as a friend – you inspired such respect and loyalty that it was important to be sure that we did what was right for your family. We thought that burial in space was sufficient, but it was – very important to your parents that you were brought home.”

“You did this for my father?” Spock asked, an eyebrow rising above a questioning gaze.

“We did this for everyone who cared.” Sulu said.

“Admiral Kirk lost his son.” Spock said.

He returned his eyes to the sun which had separated from the horizon and was hovering as a pure disc of light, barely shimmering now in the thin dry air. The stars that had just been making themselves visible at the upper limits of the sky were starting to vanish behind the red of the atmosphere. The colour reminded Sulu of human blood.

“Yes, sir,” Sulu said soberly. ‘he e – didn’t expect to lose his son.’”But he has said to me that he regained a brother.”

“Yes.” Sulu said.

He had seen the piercing pain that had made the admiral look a little older, a little hollower inside, but the joy at the return of Spock had brought him back to life. If they had returned only with Spock’s dead body, and David’s alongside it, he was not sure what the admiral would have done. Perhaps he would even have left the ’fleet. Kirk’s future in Starfleet was still not assured, of course, but if he was forced out it would not be the Admiral’s choice.

Being forced out would not be Sulu’s choice either. He had gone for Spock’s body knowing full well that this might be the end of his career, that he might be spending a considerable amount of time being ‘rehabilitated’ in a Federation jail. They had all known that; but as he had said to Spock, it had been so important to honour their friend as he should be that they had risked everything to get him back.

A great feeling of emotion welled up in his chest, and he swallowed hard. Spock looked at him sharply, as if he had sensed the sudden eruption of feeling in the man beside him. Sulu stared at the sun and hoped that its brightness would excuse any moisture in his eyes.

“I think – that we have come to the end of this particular journey.” Spock said. “It is time for another.”

Sulu stared at the Vulcan, but he did not explain his words. He merely folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe and turned and moved away down the sun-lit path, golden light edging his raised hood and the set of his shoulders and the backs of his heels as he walked. On the plain far below Sulu could see the dark shape of the Klingon bird of prey, waiting to make its next flight.

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