Star Trek: The Original Series - 082 - Federation by Judith Reeves-Stevens, Garfield Reeves-Stevens

patients. To Kirk’s chagrin, however, the pile of tongue depressors was deepest on the blanket beside Sarek.
    $arek maintained his maddening composure. “My wife taught me many years ago, after Spock joined Starfleet. The insights it afforded me have been beneficial in certain negotiations with… certain species.”
    I bet they have, Kirk thought. “Coridan’s going to be admitted to the Federation, isn’t it.” He made it a statement. If Sarek negotiated as well as he played poker, the other delegates to the Babel Conference didn’t stand a chance against him.
    “I will argue for admission,” Sarek acknowledged, “but my wishes are in no way an indication of what the result of the final vote will be.” “With that much dilithium on the planet,” Kirk continued, “how could Coridan not be admitted? The Orions were willing to start an interplanetary war over it.” The knife wound in Kirk’s back was a direct result of Coridan’s dilithium. Orion smugglers had conspired to prevent the planet’s admission to the Federation in order to maintain their illegal mining and smuggling operations and profit from supplying both sides with dilithium in the war to come.
    But Sarek did not agree. “It is true that dilithium is the lifeblood of any interstellar political association. Without it, warp drive can never be exploited to its full potential. But, it has been my experience that wars are seldom fought over resources. At the time, the question of resources may appear to be a valid excuse for hostilities, indeed, a rallying cry. But upon reflection, most conflict is inevitably based in emotion.” Sarek fixed Kirk with a steady gaze—an emotional signal of some sort, Kirk was certain.
    “I mean no disrespect,” Sarek concluded.
    Kirk mulled over that last statement, which from anyone else would have meant the opposite of what it appeared to mean, and despite the ambassador’s recent heart attacks and cryogenic open-heart procedure, Sarek had never once lost his mental edge.
    Kirk wondered if there was such a thing as Vulcan humor. He looked back at Spock, trying to detect any sign of hidden Vulcan laughter.
    But Spock merely raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You have a question, Captain?” Kirk couldn’t bring himself to ask the obvious. He knew he could talk with Spock about Vulcan emotions, but it might be too embarrassing a topic for Spock to discuss in front of his father. If Spock could feel embarrassment, that is. Kirk decided that changing the subject was a better tactic. “Did your mother teach you how to play poker, too?” Spock shook his head. “Dr. McCoy did, after our encounter xvith the First Federation ship.” “Actually,” Sarek volunteered, “I have often thought poker would be a useful exercise for Vulcan children, to help them learn to control the display of their emotions.” Kirk saw his opening and pounced. “Gentlemen, it sounds as if you’re suggesting that the famed Vulcan reticence to display emotion is nothing more than a prolonged bluff itself. In fact, it could be said that for a people who pride themselves on choosing never to lie, their whole demeanor is, in fact, just that.” Feeling proud of himself, Kirk folded his arms.
    Sarek and Spock exchanged a look. Spock spoke first. “Captain, what you have suggested is not logical.” Kirk didn’t understand. “Yes, it is.” Spock was about to reply when Sarek interrupted. “Captain, the ‘pot’ is still unclaimed. We have yet to see your hand.” Damn. Kirk thought. He had hoped they had forgotten. He turned over his cards. A pair of fives.
    “It would appear you were bluffing, as well,” Sarek said, with just the slightest hint of smugness in his tone.
    “He is quite good at it,” Spock offered.
    “Indeed.” Kirk looked from father to son, realizing that they had successfully changed the topic on him. Kirk decided that whatever effect the past two days were having on Sarek and Spock, they were certainly beginning