A Time For War, A Time For Peace prologue

Carla Eastland regarded her troops from the cargo bay of the starship Avenger, and, as they continued to ready their weapons, decided to wax philosophical about the situation. “It is not uncommon to desire killing someone,” she said. “However, it is not often that one feels the need to send soldiers to do the job. Providence has put the Vulcan ambassador to Earth within our reach. I want him captured and brought aboard this ship, alive, if possible, dead, if not. If you capture him alive and he ‘accidentally’ meets his demise in transit, make certain that all injuries he sustains are to his body. I want his face pristine and uninjured, easy to identify.”
“I don’t understand,” a woman spoke up. “Certainly the ambassador could be identified from DNA records in any event?”
“That’s true. However, I’m referring to being able to identify his face . . . when his head is stuck up on a pole in the center of the Federation’s capital.” Eastland grinned wickedly, surveying her now-cheering soldiers one more time. “Find him. Find Sarek . . . and then we’ll crush the Federation once and for all.”
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I stood at the window of the Vulcan consulate in San Francisco, gazing out with growing disquiet. Today’s demonstration of the Keep Earth Human League had begun with only a few picketers, some carrying homemade placards, others more sophisticated holosigns. However, even in the short time I had been standing here, the crowd had grown rapidly. Now a full score of shouting humans milled before the gateway. My Vulcan hearing could easily make out what they were chanting: “SAREK SOLD OUT EARTH TO THE KLINGONS!” interspersed with occasional, strident shouts of “VULCANS GO HOME!”
“Illogical,” murmured a voice from behind me; I turned to see my young aide, Soran, standing beside me, his dark eyes troubled. “Last year, the Keep Earth Human League was considered a refuge for weak-minded racists. I examined the records . . . there were no more than forty or fifty members on this entire planet. Now, however, Federation Security estimates their numbers to be in the thousands. Why this sudden growth, Ambassador?”
I paused, on the verge of giving a vague answer, but instead shook my head slightly, warningly.
“Ambassador Sarek?”
The two of us turned as one of the young diplomatic attachés, Surev, approached. A few minutes ago, the young Vulcan had asked me if I could spare a moment to meet a human friend of his, and I had graciously agreed. Now, however, Surev’s unlined features were even more somber than usual. “Ambassador, I believe we must cancel the meeting I mentioned.”
“Why?”
“I just received a communiqué from the Federation Security Office. The security chief, Watkins, asks that we stay inside the building until they can dispatch sufficient officers to control the crowd. It is not safe to go outside, and they say that under no circumstances should you agree to meet with the KEHL leader, Ambassador.”
I raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Has such a meeting been requested by the leadership?”
Soran cleared his throat slightly. “As a matter of fact, it has, sir. A message arrived a few minutes ago from the demonstrators.”
“Why was I not informed?” I demanded, turning to face Soran. The question obviously took my aide aback.
“Ambassador, I never considered that you might wish to accede to their demand for a meeting—that would be most unwise, possibly dangerous.” Soran sounded faintly aggrieved, and I could not blame him. However, my aide, as of yet, knew nothing of my hidden agenda. I’ll have to take him into my confidence today, I decided.  I’d need help when I made my next trip, and the youth was good with computers—almost as talented as my own son was. Those skills would prove useful.
“Who requested the meeting?” I asked.
“The planetary leader of the KEHL, His name—or, at least the name he goes by in the organization— is Induna. He is from the African nation of Kenya.”
I looked out the window again. Surev pointed to a human who stood nearly a head above the others. “That is Induna.”
I studied the imposing figure of a dark-skinned human, who wore a silk robe brilliantly patterned in black and red. “I will speak to him,” I said, reaching a sudden decision. I needed more information about the KEHL, and firsthand observation would not be amiss.
“Ambassador—you must not! It is not safe, sir!” Soran half-barred the doorway, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of what seemed to him extremely anomalous behavior on my part. 
I merely looked at him for a long moment. Soran hesitated, and then stepped silently out of the way. Surev gave me a half-bow. “May I at least accompany you as far as the gates, sir?”
I nodded graciously. “Certainly, Surev.”
Leaving the domed building and walking down the ramp, I heard the crowd as it caught sight of me, flanked by Surev and Soran. Insults flew at us, many of them personally directed at me.
I approached the demonstrators, seeing that someone had closed the gates to the consulate, which had always stood open before this. Shouts and epithets filled the air.
“They want to take over Earth! Spawn of the devil!”
“Dirty aliens, they think they’re so smart!”
“Go back to Vulcan!”
“Vulcans go home!”
“Sarek sold out Earth to the Klingons!”
Approaching the gateway, I raised my voice so the humans could hear me. “I am Ambassador Sarek,” I called out. “I understand that Induna wishes to speak to me. Which of you is Induna?”
In response, the crowd, which now numbered fifty, parted, and the KEHL leader stepped through. “I am Induna,” he announced. His voice was a deep, bass rumble. 
I raised my hand in the Vulcan salute.  “Greetings, Induna. I wish you peace and long life.”
“I accept no good wishes from Earth’s enemy,” Induna said coldly.
“I assure you that I wish only good relations between our worlds. I invite you to enter the gates, so we may speak together.”
The human drew himself up, clearly antagonistic. “I have nothing to say to you, Ambassador, which cannot be said within hearing of those who follow me. And I refuse to speak with a being so cowardly that he hides himself behind gates.”
“I am not hiding, nor do I have anything to hide,” I corrected him, my tones civil but firm. I heard shouts from the crowd, but Induna appeared to be able to control his followers. “Very well, then. I will come to you, so we may speak together like civilized beings.”
Before either of my companions could remonstrate with me, I reached out and opened the gate. Head high; still flanked by the young aides, I strode forward into the crowd, straight for Induna. 
The moment I stepped into their midst, brushing against the demonstrators, I was nearly sickened by the miasma of hatred that I sensed from the humans in the crowd. My planet and this world had been allies and friends for over a century. How could such a thing be happening now?
The KEHL leader was surprised as I approached him, but recovered his aplomb quickly. Turning to the crowd, he motioned for quiet— but instead the shouting intensified. 
“Sarek sold out Earth to the Klingons!”
“Vulcans go home!”
Induna gestured again, more peremptorily. “Let me speak to this Vulcan, my friends and comrades,” he ordered. “If I can make him see that he and his kind have no place on our world, then he will leave Earth! We do not want war, we want peace—they can keep to their planet, as we can keep to ours!”
The protestors closest to their leader obeyed, but others, further back in the crowd, continued to hurl abuse.
“Devil’s spawn!”
The crowd surged wildly, and then someone threw a clod of dirt. Other refuse followed. I smelled rotting vegetables.
“Stop!” Induna shouted, and the missiles halted—but the crowd was clearly getting out of control. “Quiet down,” the leader commanded. The noise abated slightly. 
“We have no designs on your world,” I cried, raising my voice to be audible above the spectators. “Our species have been allies for decades. We—”
“Go back to Vulcan, damn you!” The angry shriek cut through my voice like a knife. The crowd swelled and heaved like a storm-tossed sea. “She’s right! Go home!” yelled another protester.
“Quiet!” Induna roared. “Let us speak. . .” His words were lost as the crowd surged forward. Missiles filled the air. An egg spattered against Soran’s robe.
The missiles grew harder, more dangerous. A rock struck me on the forearm with force enough to bruise. I flinched back, realized that Induna was still yelling for the crowd to quiet down, and knew that the KEHL leader had lost control of the mob—for mob now it was. 
Federation security officers moved in with crowd-control stunners and forcefields. Feeling a shove and a hard blow to the back; I turned and grappled briefly with my attacker. With a quick thrust, I shoved the woman aside. 
I whirled and bolted into a frantic run for the embassy, ducking as two phaser blasts burned the air over my head. Surev and Soran followed my lead. Shouts cut the air behind us.
“Where’s Sarek?”
“There he goes!”
“Cut him down!”
“Don’t stop, Ambassador, run,” Surev managed to gasp to me before he went down, stunned. 
Every nerve and fiber in my body was straining; I was running all-out, all the while dodging phaser blasts. Thankfully, I had a head start, longer legs, and more stamina. I thought that would be enough.
I dropped to my knees, narrowly ducking a killing blast that would have taken my head off, rolled once, and came up running again. Only twelve meters more to the gate! Ten, nine, eight. . . 
I was only six meters away from the gates and safety when my world exploded in an eruption of agony that began from the center of my spine and spread out through my legs and arms, paralyzing me. **AMANDA! SPOCK! ** My mental cry for help ripped across the bond I shared with my family like chain lightning ripping across the sky. . . .  I dropped, pole axed.
“Got him!” two human voices cheered as one. 
My ears were ringing; my head was spinning. . . I dimly felt two humans roughly lifting me up, jerking both of my arms back in a double hammerlock and dragging me to my feet.
Back on Vulcan, Amanda jumped up from her desk at our home in ShiKahr in panic, screaming my name. Aboard the Enterprise on night watch, Spock jolted awake, hearing my voice scream his name in his mind. He ran to activate the ship-wide intercom. “Captain!”
“Leave the other two Vulcans for the security guard to take care of and signal Carla we’re ready for beam out,” Induna yelled. “We have who we came for!” The entire KEHL group cheered.
I felt the tingle of a transporter effect . . . my world went black.
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Considering the present circumstances, I decided, it would be better if I just didn’t wake up. My most recent attempts to swim toward consciousness had been so unpleasant; I had concluded that it simply wasn’t worth it. I’d much rather stay in this netherworld, not asleep but not awake, where I could keep my various aches and pains at bay and insist to myself that they weren’t real. That none of this was real. 
I groaned inwardly. Here I was, the Vulcan ambassador to the Federation, and I had allowed a bunch of reactionary extremists to capture me. I had walked right out the gate that was keeping me safe and straight into a trap in the hope of opening negotiations with the KEHL! If that wasn’t the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Sarek, I thought.
Category:Chapters of A Time For War, A Time For Peace