Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dress uniforms!” Bones complained, tugging at an awkward fold in her tights. “Spit and polish - I don’t know how much longer I'm going to be able to stand this. I hate wearing a skirt.”

“Why?” Jaime said, not even looking over. She was at her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her updo. “I think… you look cute in a skirt, Bones.”

“Pah. I should have opted for the men’s uniform… but that one makes me feel like my neck's in a sling. I just can’t win.”

“The Vulcans… are the last delegates we have to pick up,” Jaime said, apparently satisfied with her appearance and turning around now. She stared at Bones for a moment until Bones straightened up and took her boot off her bed; she would just have to live with the tights. Jaime smiled. “As soon as we get them aboard, we'll be able to relax. …are you sure you don’t want to do something, with your hair?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Bones said, rolling her eyes and smoothing her skirt. The fact that Starfleet’s women’s dress uniform was a knee-length literal dress was bad enough; she wasn’t about to add onto the experience by torturing her hair into something other than her usual minimal-effort bun. “Anyway,” she said, as they left Jaime’s quarters, “I don’t know who you think you’re kidding about relaxing. A formal reception tonight, 114 delegates aboard for two weeks, thirty-two of them ambassadors...“ T’Spock joined them as they walked down the hall; she, obviously, took the dress uniform completely in stride, but like Bones she had done nothing special with her hair - though granted her hair was a bit too short to do much with it anyway, “…half of them mad at the other half, and the whole lot touchier than a raw antimatter pile over this Coridan question.”

The intercom whistled. Jaime hit the nearest panel. “Kirk here.”

“Shuttlecraft approaching vith Ambassador Sarek's party. Estimate arrival one minute.”

“Bring them aboard, Miss Chekova.”

“Standby to recower shuttlecraft. Honor guard to the hangar deck.”

The honor guard seemed to be, in Bones’ estimation, just as tired of all this as she was. Their careful line-up in the shuttlebay seemed a little less than careful — as a matter of fact, they didn’t even successfully make a straight line. Welcoming the Vulcan party seemed like a hell of a time to miss that kind of pedantic detail, but interestingly enough, Jaime didn’t make any comment. In fact, she didn’t seem to notice it at all; she was too focused on the shuttlecraft, perhaps overly so. Bones raised an eyebrow. For some reason, once they had started underway to Vulcan, Jaime had taken on an oddly self-satisfied and anticipatory air - one which she had only laughed and waved off when Bones had asked for an explanation.

Bones glanced at T’Spock, standing next to her. “How does that Vulcan salute go?”

T’Spock silently demonstrated.

Bones had to use her other hand to pull her fingers into position. She grimaced. “Nevermind. I need my knuckles in one piece or my career as a surgeon is done for.”

Despite the fact that Bones had set her up pretty well for some kind of smart aleck-y reply, T’Spock didn’t get the chance to say anything: The shuttlecraft had opened and the ambassador’s party was debarking, headed by a stolid-looking Vulcan man with lightly graying hair. Jaime seemed to be fighting back a grin.

“Captain Jaime Kirk,” she introduced herself.

“Captain,” said the Vulcan, giving the same salute that T’Spock had just showed Bones. This was Ambassador Sarek, obviously. If he had been an aide then he would have deferred the greeting to the ambassador.

Jaime walked with Sarek a few steps back over to Bones and T’Spock, and gestured at them. “My first officer… Commander T’Spock,” she said, very formally.

“Vulcan honors us with your presence. We come to serve,” T’Spock said, just as formally.

Sarek barely even glanced at T’Spock, despite the introduction. “Your service honors us, captain,” he said, still addressing Jaime.

Jaime blinked. Bones knew her well enough to read the extremely brief look of confusion that had passed over her face, and sympathized somewhat. Vulcan social graces weren’t necessarily compatible with human ones, and Bones admittedly wasn’t too familiar with the overall culture aside from whatever nonsense T’Spock fed them, but even she thought that Sarek’s apparent dismissal of T’Spock had been a little… rude.

Then again, Bones supposed, being the only Vulcan in Starfleet who actually wanted to serve on a ship full of humans instead of one of the various all-Vulcan ships probably came with its own baggage. Being an ambassador, Bones would have assumed Sarek would be a bit more liberal when it came to that, but everybody had opinions.

Anyway, Jaime’s momentary puzzlement at Sarek’s dismissive attitude didn’t stop her from continuing on with introductions. “Thank you,” she said, without missing much of a beat, and gestured towards Bones: “Chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy.”

“Ambassador,” Bones said, opting for a polite nod instead of attempting some kind of curtsy.

“Doctor,” Sarek acknowledged. So he apparently wasn’t allergic to directly addressing anyone besides Jaime. Opinions after all, huh. Sarek turned slightly to indicate the rest of his party behind him. “My aides,” he said, “and she who is my wife.” He held up two fingers.

A human woman, elderly enough to have solidly silver hair but apart from that remarkably well-preserved, stepped forward to touch two of her own fingers to Sarek’s. “Captain Kirk,” she greeted, with a very restrained but oddly knowing little smile.

Jaime smiled back. “Our pleasure, madam,” she said. “As soon as you're settled… I'll arrange a tour, of the ship. Miss T’Spock will conduct you.”

“I'd prefer another guide, captain,” Sarek said.

Jaime blinked again, then narrowed her eyes slightly, though she was still smiling genially. “As you wish, ambassador,” she said, then turned to T’Spock, hands tucked innocently behind her back. “Miss T’Spock, we'll leave orbit in… two hours. Would you care to beam down, and visit your parents?”

“Captain,” T’Spock said very dryly, “Ambassador Sarek and his wife are my parents.”

Jaime’s lips parted in surprise that Bones was now very sure was not surprise. T’Spock’s face remained carefully blank, though Bones was pretty sure she was annoyed. Sarek was completely unreadable - as was, interestingly enough, his wife. But then, if she was T’Spock’s mother, by now she would have had to have lived on Vulcan for a good four decades at the very least. Concealing emotions quite literally came with the territory.

Shortly thereafter the honor guard was dispatched to escort Sarek and his party to their respective guest quarters; Jaime made arrangements to come get Sarek and his wife in about ten minutes (or precisely ten minutes, so it went with Vulcans) for their tour. T’Spock made some lame excuse about being needed in engineering (why? for what?) and disappeared. Bones, as soon as she was alone with Jaime, turned to confront her.

“You knew!” she exclaimed, poking her in the chest. “You knew those were T’Spock’s parents! How?”

Jaime grinned somewhat sheepishly. “It’s listed right there, in her personnel file… if you had read the whole—“

“I’m not about to listen to you about reading those things! Since when do you even look at them?”

“I do, sometimes,” Jaime said defensively. “Incidentally, did you know… the age in your personnel file is off, by about ten years?”

“…you didn’t fix it, did you?”

“No, no. But that’s pretty vain of you,” Jaime teased. “And anyway, even if I hadn’t read it, in her personnel file, it’s not… hard to figure out. T’Spock is the only… human-Vulcan hybrid, to ever make it past infancy. And Ambassador Sarek… as you can see, he has a human wife… Amanda Grayson. She’s from Seattle, actually.”

Bones huffed. “Surely the ambassador isn’t the only Vulcan man in the whole Federation who happens to have a human wife.”

“No, but… he is the only one, who’s also related to T’Pau of Vulcan.”

“Wait, you knew about that too?“

“It’s in the—“

“—the personnel file, right, I get it. That’s what I deserve for only looking at the medical history section, huh…”

Jaime shrugged. “I can’t help it if I get… a little curious, about T’Spock.” She looked down the hallway, in the direction that Sarek’s party had left. “But still… that wasn’t really what I was expecting, just now.”

“No kidding. If I’d known those were her parents, I would have thought she’d be - I don’t know — looking forward to it, a little. She could have at least mentioned it to us.”

“And the way Sarek just ignored her… and declined her as a tour guide…”

“Seems they don’t exactly have the best relationship,” Bones sighed. “I guess that’s not surprising. I mean, we knew T’Spock’s decision to serve on a human ship was… unique. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if it was controversial on Vulcan.”

Jaime hummed. “As far as I understand it, even going to Starfleet Academy was a bit… rebellious, of T’Spock. But I would have thought, after she’s done so well in her career, that any… conflict with her family over that… would have been resolved by now.”

“Looks like it wasn’t.” Bones caught Jaime by the arm before she could wander off. “Hey,” she said seriously, “don’t meddle with this, alright?”

Jaime blinked at her guilelessly. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, honey. I saw what you did as soon as Sarek started being dismissive of T’Spock — if you already knew that was her dad, then what was up with the ’T’Spock, why don’t you beam down and visit your parents’ bit?”

“Ah, well, I thought…” Jaime trailed off. “Better to just… lay it out in the open, right? Instead of… trying to pretend…”

“You were just being passive-aggressive!”

“Maybe a little, I suppose…”

“Well, don’t keep it up,” Bones said sternly, squeezing her arm for emphasis. “T’Spock’s family problems aren’t yours to solve. And hell, for all we know, this weird dismissive attitude is completely normal for Vulcan parents!”

Jaime gave her a look that clearly said she knew Bones didn’t believe that line either, and tugged her arm out of her grasp. “I’m not trying to ‘solve’ anything,” she whined, “I just don’t want… that sort of drama, aboard my ship!”

“Then don’t instigate it!”

“Who’s instigating? Anyway, I’ve got to go… you know how annoyed T’Spock gets, whenever someone is late for something — I can only imagine, her father is even worse about it.”

She scurried off. Bones stared after her in mild disapproval. “Unbelievable,” she muttered to herself.

She’d definitely have to find a way to corner Amanda.

T’Spock would have thought that Jaime understood her implicit request to be left alone. Certainly taking guests on tour straight through engineering was not strictly orthodox; there were viewports that she could have taken Sarek and Amanda by instead. But no, she entered the room with them, right where T’Spock was, keeping herself busy - even having gone so far as to rid herself of the dress uniform to make it completely clear that she was working.

“This is the engineering section,” Jaime was saying blithely, walking right by T’Spock without acknowledging her. It was entirely possible, T’Spock realized, that she had understood T’Spock’s implicit request to be left alone and had simply denied it. “There are a number of emergency back-up systems, for the main controls. Over here, are a number of control computers…”

Amanda let Jaime and Sarek walk ahead, lingering near T’Spock. T’Spock braced herself for conversation. She didn’t have any particular quarrel with her mother — aside from her inane indulgence of Sarek’s less tolerable traits — but this was still, at best, somewhat humiliating. Like if T’Spock were still a schoolchild, and Amanda had unexpectedly showed up in her class. (Which, given that Amanda had herself been a schoolteacher when T’Spock had been that age, was an experience that T’Spock had actually experienced.)

“After all these years among humans,” Amanda said gently, “you still haven't learned to smile.”

T’Spock stared at her, unimpressed. “Humans smile with so little provocation.”

“And you haven't come to see us in four years, either.”

Of course she would practically lead with that. T’Spock was of the opinion that, quite frankly, her parents had been extremely fortunate to get even that visit. Or as much of that visit as they had gotten, considering T’Spock had left rather prematurely. “The situation between my father and myself,” T’Spock said stiffly, “has not changed.”

“My wife,” Sarek called, “attend.”

Amanda let out a tiny, affectionate sigh and trotted over to Sarek, joining him in an extremely public ozh'esta. They were so embarrassing.

“Miss T’Spock,” Jaime called, “a moment, if you please.”

T’Spock trotted over walked over to her at a measured and dignified pace. “Yes, Captain?”

“Explain the computer components.”

To say that T’Spock did not wish to be an active participant in her parents’ tour of the Enterprise was an understatement. Fortunately(?), Sarek spoke up before she could say anything: “I gave T’Spock her first instruction in computers, captain. She chose to devote her knowledge to Starfleet instead of the Vulcan Science Academy.”

Once, just once T’Spock would have liked to see Sarek manage to go fifteen minutes without bringing that up. “If you will excuse me, Captain,” T’Spock said, consciously keeping her jaw unclenched. She left engineering before Jaime could say anything one way or the other.

“…I'm sorry, ambassador,” she heard Jaime saying as she stalked off. “I did not… mean to offend. I thought that—“

“Offense is a human emotion,” Sarek said blandly. “I’m returning to my quarters. Continue, my wife.”

Drat. There was only one nearby exit to engineering. Sarek was coming this way. T’Spock ducked into the nearest sideroom and leaned against the wall by the door, watching cautiously in case the door sensors were tripped and waiting for Sarek’s footsteps to pass and recede.

“Er,” said Mr. Scott, who had already been in the room she had ducked into. “Ye doin’ alright, commander?”

“I am fine,” T’Spock said tersely.

“Then why are you acting like there’s a pack o’ hunting dogs on your tail?”

“Hunting dogs would be preferable,” T’Spock muttered, and chanced returning to the hallway. Sarek was nowhere to be seen. Good. Perhaps she would have better luck avoiding Sarek - and Jaime - on the bridge.

Jaime watched T’Spock then Sarek go with no small amount of exasperation. Next to her, Amanda had a somewhat resigned air to her. “Mrs. Sarek,” Jaime said, “I just don’t understand…”

“Amanda,” she corrected her gently. “I'm afraid you couldn't pronounce the Vulcan name.”

“Can you?”

“After a fashion, and after many years of practice.” Amanda cocked her head at her slightly. “Shall we continue the tour? My husband did request it.”

“It sounded… more like a command,” Jaime said, somewhat dubiously.

Amanda smiled at her, like it was some joke that Jaime wasn’t in on. Granted, Jaime thought, it probably was. “Of course,” she said serenely, “he's a Vulcan. I'm his wife.”

“And T’Spock is his daughter.”

“You don't understand the Vulcan way, captain,” Amanda sighed. “It's logical. It's a better way than ours. But it's not easy. It has kept T’Spock and Sarek from speaking as father and daughter for eighteen years.”

“T’Spock is my best officer,” Jaime made of point of saying, “and my friend.”

“I'm glad she has such a friend,” said Amanda. They began to walk again, slowly circuiting through engineering without paying much attention to the usual narration of a tour. “It hasn't been easy on T’Spock,” Amanda went on, “neither human nor Vulcan. At home nowhere except Starfleet.”

“I take it... that T’Spock disagreed with her father, on a choice of career,” Jaime said. Just as she thought.

Amanda made a very small, restrained shrug. It seemed she kept most of her gestures conservative, elegant even. “My husband has nothing against Starfleet. But Vulcans believe that peace should not depend on force.”

“Starfleet force is used only, as a last resort. We're an instrument of… civilization. And it's a better opportunity, for a scientist to study the universe, than she can get at the Vulcan Science Academy.”

“Perhaps,” Amanda said. It was difficult to tell whether she agreed or disagreed, or truly was neutral on the topic — though somehow Jaime doubted it really was the latter. “But Sarek wanted T’Spock to follow his teachings, as Sarek followed the teachings of his own father.”

I don’t suppose the teachings of his own father included marrying a human instead of a fellow Vulcan? Jaime thought. “They are both… stubborn.”

Amanda looked amused at that. “A human trait, captain?” she said.

The nearest comm panel chimed. “Bridge to Captain Kirk,” came Uhura’s voice.

“Excuse me,” Jaime said, and pressed the panel’s button. “Kirk here.”

“Captain, I've picked up some sort of signal. Just a few symbols. Nothing intelligible.”

“Source?”

“That's what bothers me, ma’am. Impossible to locate. There wasn't enough of it. Sensors show nothing in the area, but it was a strong signal, as though it was very close.”

“Go to alert status four. Begin long-range scanning,” Jaime instructed. “Kirk out.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?” said Amanda.

Jaime shook her head. “Alert status four… won’t even be noticeable, to any of the delegates. Or much of anyone, outside the bridge. An unknown signal… even if it originated from nearby, at this time, isn’t necessarily considered a threat.”

“That’s comforting to know,” Amanda murmured. “As you may have guessed, captain, Sarek and I spend much of our time traveling through space. We are well aware of what sort of… anomalies and unexplained events may pose a danger at any time.”

“I thought so,” Jaime said with a small smile. “At the risk of… sounding a bit conceited, the Enterprise is quite good at… getting out of scrapes. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know. I wasn’t worried.” Amanda looked vaguely around the engine room without, Jaime suspected, taking note of very much of it. “It’s not the dangers of space travel that bother me,” she said, “it’s the demands on our time. We have duties and obligations at home - which sometimes get neglected in favor of Sarek’s duties and obligations as ambassador. For example: We completely missed T’Spock’s koon-ut-kal-if-fee.”

“Yes, well,” Jaime said awkwardly, “you didn’t miss much…”

Amanda gave her a knowing look. “I suppose so,” she said, tactfully pretending that she hadn’t definitely been informed of everything that had happened anyway. “And, of course, there’s always the next one.”

“Yes… of course. T’Spock will need to, uh, find a new husband… sometime in the next, er… seven years.”

“Sometime indeed,” Amanda said vaguely. “What’s the next stop on our tour, captain?”

“Ah, the— the arboretum.”

“Lovely. I do enjoy Vulcan, but if there’s one thing it lacks, it’s greenery.”

Jaime pondered what Amanda had said about missing duties and obligations at home due to the demands of Sarek’s career. This was the first time she’d really thought about the fact that T’Spock’s parents had been absent from her wedding; the whole event had been so bizarre and surreal that even if Jaime had noticed T’Spock’s parents weren’t there (she wasn’t sure she had; her memory of a lot of the finer details was pretty fuzzy, probably because of the drugs Bones had given her) she would have simply presumed that it was traditional for the parents of the bride to not be present. As a matter of fact, Jaime couldn’t recall seeing T’Spock’s husband-to-be’s parents either — or at least, none of the members of his party had been identifiable as such to her, a complete stranger.

The prospect of T’Spock having another wedding - a presumably more successful one - also admittedly bothered Jaime somewhat. What was the protocol here? With her first, arranged option rejected, would the second koon-ut-kal-if-fee be with someone whom T’Spock had herself selected? The thought made Jaime’s heart beat a little faster, but she scolded herself for it. As far as she had been able to tell, T’Spock was just as oblivious to matters of sex and romance after her pon farr as she had been before it. If she had to select a new mate herself then it was likely to be nothing more than a marriage of convenience - perhaps to another unlucky Vulcan who had lost his chance with his first mate, and needed someone with whom to mutually weather the threat of pon farr, and to remain purely platonic with the rest of the time. At any rate, Jaime didn’t know the Vulcan take on whether a woman could marry another woman. From a dispassionate, purely logical perspective - feeling no need to take love matches or the nebulous concept of equality into account - Jaime could begrudgingly understand if they didn’t allow it. It wasn’t so simple to procreate with two women, after all. Not that T’Spock could bear children herself at all, even with a man, but her betrothal to Pring had been committed to before anyone would have known that… though reportedly Sarek and Amanda had themselves required extensive medical intervention to have T’Spock, but perhaps cross-species, reproductively difficult marriages were still too new at the time for there to have been any precepts or customs against it. Vulcan generations were long, after all, and from that perspective First Contact had been quite recent - and Vulcans and humans famously got along (such as it was) better than Vulcans and any other species. It was hard to imagine a Vulcan, any Vulcan, wanting to marry an Andorian for example.

Or maybe I’m overthinking things, Jaime thought. Maybe it’s more logical to not give a damn as long as everyone involved is a consenting adult… or an adult with their parents’ consent, anyway. Specific Vulcan marriage laws were, of course, just one of those things that non-Vulcans couldn’t really just look up. There were many aspects of Vulcan culture that were intentionally kept mysterious to the galaxy at large. Jaime had always suspected that part of the reason for doing this was because other Federation species would consider certain things objectionable if they knew; certainly the act of matchmaking toddlers and telepathically bonding them in anticipation of being wed as adults was… rather disturbing, from the perspective of a modern human. Disallowing certain types of otherwise ordinary marriages probably fell into the same category…

(And, of course, even if there was no sanction against same-sex marriage, at least for a non-arranged second marriage, Jaime had to admit she didn’t think she’d be very high on T’Spock’s list of potential candidates. If she had to go with anyone, she’d probably go with Bones, to be honest. At least in Jaime’s opinion. Bones would undoubtedly disagree.)

Jaime eyed Amanda, who was inspecting that carnivorous Weeper plant of Sulu’s which was named either Beauregard or Gertrude, depending on who you asked. She was sorely tempted to just ask her some of the questions she was mulling over — but it seemed inappropriate. Not only because of the apparent prohibition on discussing such topics with outsiders, but also because, well… Jaime felt she would give the wrong impression somehow…

“Captain,” Amanda said suddenly, straightening up. “Do you have children?”

Jaime blinked. “Pardon?”

“I suppose not. The only starship captains with families I’ve ever heard of didn’t get their own ship until their children were already adults — and you’re obviously not old enough for that.”

“Er… why do you ask?”

Amanda looked thoughtful. “You seem puzzled by Sarek and I,” she said. “I suspect it’s just one of those things that can’t be understood until you experience it.”

“Maybe so,” said Jaime, not entirely sure what Amanda was referring to.

“Sarek must seem unnecessarily strict to you,” Amanda said, turning around to look at her. “You must understand, to Vulcans, humanity is a flaw. They don’t mean that in a negative way. Our illogical human nature is seen as something we are capable of one day rising above - they have great hopes for us, the Vulcans.”

“And you seem to agree,” Jaime said, “I’m… not sure I do.”

Amanda inclined her head, a half nod. “I don’t think you’re wrong,” she said. “Perhaps our nature is flawed - perhaps we should all aspire to what the Vulcans believe we can achieve - but we are human nonetheless.” She turned back to the Weeper plant. She stroked the flower, underneath its bottom frills, and it trilled for her. “Most Vulcans, even Sarek, can accept humans for what we are, even in our present state. But T’Spock is not a human - nor perhaps, strictly speaking, a Vulcan either — first and foremost, she is his daughter.”

“At the risk of… being out of line, here,” Jaime said, “I didn’t exactly see a… resounding demonstration, of that attitude, from him.”

“As I said, it’s difficult to understand until you have children of your own. T’Spock is his daughter, and more than anything he wants her to be like him. But daughters often take after their mothers,” Amanda petted the Weeper plant on the top of the flower now; it gleefully pushed its stem up further against her palm, “and I, captain, am human.”

“Well, if I were him,” Jaime said, feeling oddly annoyed by this conversation, “I’d want any sort of daughter - human or not. And… I don’t see that he has to… worry too much, about T’Spock being like him.”

Amanda laughed, a quiet sound probably cultivated over decades to not be too off-putting to Vulcans - while still managing to convey genuine humor. “So you’ve noticed already, then?” she said.

“Like I said… they’re both stubborn.”

Amanda turned away from the plants and took Jaime by the elbow. “I like you, captain,” she said. “I had always hoped that T’Spock would find a friend like you. In fact, you’re more than I could have hoped for.”

“Thank you,” Jaime said, slightly confused. It felt like Amanda was referring to something slightly outside the context of this discussion - something that Jaime didn’t have access to right now. “Ah, but— I’m not T’Spock’s only friend. You might enjoy talking with Dr. McCoy… um, but keep in mind that she and T’Spock have the… sort of relationship, where they tend to tease each other… I promise, they do genuinely like each other.”

“Oh, I know,” Amanda said, steering Jaime towards the arboretum’s exit. “T’Spock writes occasional letters home, and she’s mentioned your Dr. McCoy quite a few times. Often because she’s a little confused by the doctor’s behavior,” she laughed again, “but I imagine there aren’t so many humans who are willing to be so straightforward with T’Spock.”

“Yes… straightforward,” Jaime said, bemused. “I wasn’t aware, that T’Spock wrote letters home. Though, I suppose it’s not uncommon, for anyone to do.”

“She mentions you too, before you ask.”

“I’m sure, it’s none of my business,” Jaime waved her off. “…erm, what… sort of things, does she say about me?”

Amanda squeezed her arm. She had that knowing smile again, and if Jaime didn’t know any better then she would have said her eyes were mischievous. “She says,” she whispered, “that you’re like a sister to her.”

It seemed like there was a double meaning, but Jaime just couldn’t catch it.

Chapter Text

There was, of course, no avoiding her parents. Perhaps if T’Spock had had any position on the ship other than first officer, she could have managed it — but no, she was first officer, and accordingly she was obliged to attend the reception in the lounge for the diplomats. The inconvenience of having to put her dress uniform back on was immaterial (though McCoy had immediately complained about it the first T’Spock saw her again). The problem was simply that she had to be here.

However… it could have been worse. Given that it was a reception for the Babel conference delegates, that necessarily meant that Sarek was in his professional element. While this didn’t make him any more pleasant to deal with per se, it did mean that the full force of his condescending disapproval would be directed anywhere other than T’Spock. Sarek did not enjoy fielding personal issues before an audience. He was probably already highly displeased that some of it had slipped out in front of Jaime.

Currently, Sarek was occupied by the Andorian and Tellarite ambassadors. This left T’Spock with her mother and, unfortunately, McCoy. McCoy seemed downright delighted by all this. Even if her relationship with her parents had been perfect, T’Spock reflected, she still would have preferred to avoid McCoy coming into contact with them - under any circumstances.

“T’Spock,” that wretch of a CMO said with an irreverent grin, “I've always suspected that you were a little more human than you let on. Mrs. Sarek, I know about the rigorous training of the Vulcan youth, but tell me, did she ever run and play like the human children, even in secret?”

“Well, she…” Amanda glanced sidelong at T’Spock, and T’Spock braced herself because she knew that even her mother’s most diplomatic answer was going to be embarrassing because there was no possibility that this woman would simply decline to answer at all, “she did have a pet sehlat she was very fond of.”

“Sehlat?” McCoy said, eyebrows drawing together questioningly.

Amanda took a sip of her drink. Was it alcoholic? It occurred to T’Spock that she should have discouraged the captain from serving alcoholic drinks at the reception. “It's sort of a… fat teddy bear.”

McCoy’s eyebrows shot up. “A teddy bear?“

Sarek appeared from nowhere. “Excuse me, doctor,” he said. “It has been a rather long day for my wife.” He nodded at Jaime. “Captain.”

“Ambassador,” Jaime nodded back. Amanda looked a little put out as she followed Sarek away. T’Spock wondered if Sarek had also spotted the alcoholic drink in her hand and disapproved; she could not, after all, imagine that he had interrupted because Amanda had undoubtedly been about to relate some inane tale of T’Spock’s childhood to McCoy.

McCoy seemed maliciously appreciative enough of what little she’d already gotten. “A teddy bear,” she repeated with wonder. Jaime giggled a little to herself, taking a sip of her own drink.

T’Spock glowered at both of them. “Not precisely, Doctor,” she said crisply. “On Vulcan, the teddy bears are alive, and they have six-inch fangs.”

McCoy pursed her lips, clearly undecided on whether she believed T’Spock or not. Jaime’s attention was pulled away by the comm panel ringing.

“Bridge to Keptin Kirk.”

“Kirk here.”

“Keptin, sensors are registering an unidentified wessel pacing us.”

“On my way. All duty personnel on yellow alert. Don't alarm the passengers. Kirk out.” She turned back to T’Spock and McCoy, shrugged haplessly, and left the lounge.

“And where are you going?” McCoy complained as T’Spock started to follow her.

“To the bridge, Doctor.”

“Why? You’re not duty personnel right now. Besides, your parents already left, what are you running from?”

“I am not running from anything. I am concerned about the unidentified vessel. My duty to the ship supersedes the social obligations of this reception.”

“But without you here, I’m the senior-most officer! They’ll bring all their complaints to me!”

“And I trust you will field them competently,” T’Spock said. “Or at least competently enough to prevent a brawl from breaking out. Failing that, you will be already on-hand to treat the injuries.” She hit the door control panel to close it between her and McCoy, who was giving her an extremely sour look as the lounge door slid shut.

Alone in the hallway, T’Spock exhaled forcefully. McCoy had been half right about one thing: T’Spock’s parents had already left, so there had no longer been anything for her to ‘run from’ at the reception. Nonetheless, she’d still felt very… awkward in there. And not in the way she usually felt awkward at parties or around diplomats. Just knowing that her parents had been in attendance had somehow tainted the entire room. It was a relief to leave. Patently illogical, but a relief nonetheless.

On the bridge, the unidentified vessel was reported to have been tailing them for at least five minutes, staying at the extreme limit of where their sensors could detect such a small and fast object - which, conveniently, also placed the vessel outside the Enterprise’s phaser range. T’Spock estimated that it was a scout ship, based on its apparent size, but it was an unfamiliar configuration. Whoever crewed the vessel showed no apparent interest in answering hails; whoever they were, they shouldn’t have been here, since the Enterprise was currently the only Starfleet-authorized traffic in this area of space, and this was hardly the frontier. The odds of a vessel belonging to an unaffiliated or uncontacted civilization innocently wandering into their flightpath were extremely low — and even if that were the case, there was no logical reason why such a vessel would be deliberately following the Enterprise.

Jaime sat down in the captain’s chair, crossing her legs and fussing momentarily with her skirt - the skirt of the dress uniform being, of course, notably longer than that of the service uniform, and Jaime was obviously unused to the extra fabric. “Care to guess what she is?” she said to T’Spock.

T’Spock raised an eyebrow at her. “Guess, Captain?” she said, “I shall need more data for my estimate.”

Jaime flashed her a very brief smile, then faced the helm. “Miss Chekova, plot course… to intercept that vessel. I want to see what she looks like, close up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Chekova said, and the artificial gravity subtly shifted - subtle enough that the less-spacefaring guests likely would not have been capable of noticing - as the ship banked.

T’Spock bent over her viewer. “Vessel changing course, heading toward us at high warp speed,” she reported.

“Ready main phasers,” Jaime ordered.

“Phasers armed and ready, ma’am!” Chekova chirped.

But the unknown ship passed the Enterprise by entirely, whizzing unsettlingly close to the hull but making no truly hostile move; it streaked by on the main viewer, darting away without so much as pinging the shields.

“Interesting,” T’Spock said. “They were traveling at approximately warp ten.”

Jaime frowned. “Back on original course, Miss Chekova,” she said.

Things were getting interesting. In some ways, Jaime was secretly glad. Like most captains, she dreaded working with diplomats; she actually suspected, deep down, that the assignment of ferrying 114 conference delegates to Babel had been given to the Enterprise specifically to punish her. For what, she wasn’t sure, but the brass probably didn’t need a reason. Jaime wasn’t exactly popular with them.

On the other hand, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was danger afoot. Perhaps even to the Enterprise itself — a tiny scout ship was unlikely to be able to cause much damage with conventional weapons, but knowing nothing concrete about the ship meant knowing nothing about how conventional of weapons might be carried. It was also always possible that the ship could ram the Enterprise. At the speeds it had already demonstrated, even a one-meter-long probe could cause catastrophic damage.

But so far the unknown vessel had made no overtly threatening move. It was still paralleling them and refusing to answer hails, which was certainly suspicious, but it had not opened fire nor come any closer to the Enterprise after that fly-by stunt. Right now it was merely their silent shadow in space - unidentified and impossible to gauge the intentions of. At best, they guessed that the vessel was observing them, for whatever reason.

Enough time passed that Jaime accepted the observation theory for now and left the bridge, cautiously settling into the idea that the unknown ship would not attack them. It was getting on in the evening, well past the shift change, and the majority of passengers had already retired to their guest quarters; it had already been a long enough day as it was - having to break up and argument between Sarek and Tellarite Ambassador Gav (though it was less of an argument and more Gav threatening Sarek) certainly did not help matters — Jaime decided to turn in for the night. The bridge would notify her immediately if the shadowing vessel made any sort of new move.

Instead, though, when her comm panel chimed it was Lt. Joseph with the security team, reporting a murder.

Well, that’s not good, Jaime thought, pulling her service uniform on and throwing her hair into a quick ponytail - she had already started undressing for bed when the call came, it really was an inconveniently-timed homicide. She hit the comm panel again. “Kirk to McCoy,” she said, “I need you to meet me, on deck 11, section A3. I don’t think it’s urgent, though…”

It was, as it turned out, Ambassador Gav. “His neck was broken,” Bones said, crouching by the body. “By an expert.”

“Explain,” Jaime said tersely.

Bones looked up at her. She looked a bit sleepy, and not at all disturbed by the shocking murder aboard the Enterprise during the prelude to a very tense conference. She did have a bizarre tendency of taking these sorts of things in stride. “Well,” she said slowly, “from the nature and location of the break, I'd say the killer knew exactly where to apply pressure to snap the neck instantly.”

Jaime frowned. “Who aboard, would have that knowledge?”

“Vulcans,” T’Spock said.

Everyone - Jaime, Bones, and the three security men standing around the corpse with them - turned to look at her.

“On Vulcan, the method is called tal-shaya,” T’Spock explained. “It was considered a merciful form of execution in ancient times.”

Jaime rubbed her face, thinking. “T’Spock,” she said, somewhat hesitantly, “a short time ago, I broke up an argument… between Gav, and your father.”

“Indeed, Captain?” T’Spock said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Interesting.”

That was an understated reaction, even for T’Spock. Bones stood, perfunctorily wiping her hands off on her pants, although Gav’s body hadn’t had any sort of… fluids… coming from it to get on her hands in the first place. “Interesting?“ Bones said incredulously. “T’Spock, do you realize that makes your father the most likely suspect?”

“Vulcans do not approve of violence,” T’Spock said blandly.

“You're saying, he couldn't have done it?” said Jaime.

“No, Captain,” T’Spock said, “I'm merely saying it would be illogical to kill without reason.”

“But, if he had a reason… could he have done it?”

“If there were a reason, my father is quite capable of killing. Logically and efficiently.”

So, logically, their next stop was Sarek’s guest quarters. Jaime declined a security escort there; Sarek was only the sole suspect on little more than a technicality right now, considering the actual investigation into Gav’s death was all of five minutes old. And anyway, even if he were responsible for Gav’s death, it seemed unlikely that he would pose any threat to the rest of them: It was borderline incomprehensible that a man like Sarek, whatever faults he may have had, would ever kill or have killed in any reason besides self-defense.

Though, granted, if it had been self-defense then it made no sense to leave the body dangling from a random jefferies tube instead of immediately contacting security himself. In Jaime’s opinion that made it all the more likely that Sarek was innocent of this crime, and perhaps even had nothing to do with it — still, the presumed connection couldn’t be ignored, and they had to ask.

“Mrs. Sarek, I'm sorry to disturb you,” Jaime said, at the door. “I must speak to your husband.”

Amanda only looked mildly bemused; if she knew of any sort of trouble on the ship, she was concealing it extremely well. “He's been gone for some time,” she said, ushering them into the cabin with no attempt at deflection or resistance. “It's his habit to meditate in private before retiring. What's wrong? T’Spock?”

“You want something of me, captain?” Sarek said, emerging from the adjoining room. Like Amanda, he appeared unaware of any problems.

“Ambassador,” Jaime said. “The Tellarite— Gav, has been murdered.”

“His neck was broken, Mr. Ambassador,” Bones added, “by what Spock describes as tal-shaya.”

Sarek raised one eyebrow in a very T’Spock-like gesture. “Indeed? Interesting,” he said, in a rather disinterested tone, echoing T’Spock almost perfectly.

“Yes,” Jaime said lamely. “Ambassador, where were you, during the past hour?”

Amanda stepped forward, as if she intended to throw herself between Jaime and Sarek if necessary. “Captain, you're not accusing him?” she said with audible alarm.

“Mother,” T’Spock said. Amanda frowned at her. “If only on circumstantial evidence, he is a logical suspect.”

Amanda opened her mouth to reply - presumably to argue - but Sarek cut her off: “I quite agree.”

Jaime was grateful for the lack of stonewalling, even if the atmosphere in this cabin was almost palpably tense. “Then where were you,” she said, “during the hour?”

Sarek looked at her, his face blank and his eyes unreadable. He seemed weary somehow. “In private meditation, captain,” he said. “T’Spock will tell you that such meditation is a personal experience, not to be discussed… especially not with Earthers.”

“That's a very convenient excuse, ambassador,” Jaime said bluntly.

Perhaps even more conveniently, Sarek’s knees promptly buckled and he slumped to the floor, only barely catching himself on the nearby desk. Amanda leapt forward to support him - as did Bones and Jaime, just on instinct - T’Spock hung back, hands tucked behind her back and expression utterly impassive. Sarek’s eyes were closed and he seemed only conscious enough to stay more or less upright, with help.

“Sarek,” Amanda said, her voice urgent but not panicked. “Sarek! What’s wrong?”

Bones already had her medical scanner out. “It's difficult to say with Vulcan physiology,” she said, “but I believe it's something to do with his cardiovascular system.”

“Can you help him?” Jaime asked.

“I don't know that yet either. We’ve got to get him to sickbay - call and have them send a stretcher here stat.”

Jaime glanced over her shoulder at T’Spock, who was still watching them dispassionately. She gestured towards the comm panel on the wall, and T’Spock, for all her lack of reaction to watching her father collapse, moved to activate a channel without hesitation. “T’Spock to sickbay. We require assistance for patient transport immediately, Ambassador Sarek’s quarters.”

“On our way,” replied Chapel. T’Spock closed the channel and returned to simply standing there and staring at them without making any move to help.

Shocked, perhaps? Jaime supposed she didn’t quite know how she herself would react if she saw her own father in acute medical distress. And it was true that T’Spock’s active assistance was not necessary; Bones was already here. Perhaps the logic of the situation was currently dictating to T’Spock that the best thing she could do for her father was to stay out of the way and provide no distractions. Perhaps the fact that Jaime and Amanda were crowded around Sarek - who was still basically unresponsive - was completely illogical and was only making T’Spock nervous behind her careful mask. She was a Vulcan. There were many perfectly reasonable explanations as to why she was being so wooden.

Still, it bothered Jaime.

…

“I'm sorry, about your father,” she said to her, a bit later, on the bridge.

T’Spock barely looked up from her scanner - only glancing at Jaime the minimum amount required to acknowledge the conversation. “Yes,” she said tonelessly, “it could adversely affect our mission.”

Jaime frowned. “Aren’t you… worried about him?”

T’Spock looked up from her scanner again and Jaime imagined she heaved a silent, invisible sigh; she sat down and swung her chair to face Jaime, her expression openly exasperated. “Worry is a human emotion, Captain,” she said, with that overly-precise sort of diction she used on Bones. “I accept what has happened. The ship's hull seems to have a high density level or is cloaked against sensor probes. It is manned, but sensors cannot make out specifics.”

“I see,” Jaime said. Here was the stonewalling. “Well… the Romulans, have nothing like it. Certainly not the Federation, or the neutral planets. What about the Klingons?…”

Bones was disappointed but, frankly, not surprised when T’Spock only turned up to sickbay in the company of Jaime. “Bones, how is he?” Jaime fretted while T’Spock just stood there like a useless lump.

Bones glanced momentarily at Amanda, who had been keeping an unobtrusive vigil in the corner. As captain of the ship, Jaime had a right to specific medical information regarding any of the crew or passengers, but it still seemed like a bit of a casual violation of privacy — on the other hand, Amanda didn’t seem to mind that Jaime was asking. “As far as I can tell from instrument readings,” Bones said, “our prime suspect has a malfunction in one of the heart valves. It's similar to a heart attack in a human. But with Vulcan physiology, it's impossible to tell without an operation. Mrs. Sarek, has he had any previous attacks?”

“No,” Amanda said.

“Yes,” Sarek said, opening his eyes. He was propped up on the biobed and made no effort to sit up fully. “There were three others. My physician prescribed benjisidrine for the condition.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Amanda said with such shock that it might have been comical in a different situation.

Sarek only looked at her with mild disappointment, as if her shock was somehow unexpected to him in turn. “There was nothing you could have done,” he said.

Great. Bones had almost dared to believe that other Vulcans might have made for better patients than T’Spock. No such luck. Apparently T’Spock came by her medical mule-headedness honestly — no surprise there. “Ambassador,” Jaime said, “when did you… have these attacks?”

“Two before we left Vulcan, the third a few hours ago. I was on the observation deck. When the Tellarite was murdered, I was quite incapacitated.”

Bones opened her mouth to ask him why the hell he hadn’t gone straight to sickbay, but Jaime kept talking before she could get a word out: “There were no witnesses?”

“None,” said Sarek.

“Doctor,” T’Spock finally piped up, “do you propose surgery for the heart defect?”

This conversation was all over the place. “I’m not sure,” Bones said, “it's tough enough on a human. On a Vulcan, an ordinary operation's out of the question.”

“Why?” Jaime said.

“Because of the construction of the Vulcan heart,” said Sarek.

“I suggest that a cryogenic open-heart procedure would be the logical approach,” said T’Spock.

“Yes,” said Sarek, “unquestionably.”

Bones crossed her arms in annoyance. Goddamn Vulcans…

“Bones, what about it?” Jaime asked.

“Well, I'm glad somebody’s asking me something around here,” Bones complained. “The procedure they're discussing would require tremendous amounts of blood for the patient.”

Chapel walked in. “Doctor,” he said.

“Yes?” What now?

“I've checked the blood bank. There isn't enough Vulcan blood and plasma to even begin such an operation of this type.”

Of course there wasn’t. Jaime looked between Bones and Chapel for a moment. “There are… other Vulcans aboard,” she suggested, somewhat cautiously. Bones glowered at her.

“My blood type is T-negative,” Sarek said. “Somewhat rare, even for a Vulcan.”

“Yes,” Bones said dryly, “I’d say that’s rare.”

“My blood is T-negative, Doctor,” T’Spock offered.

Chapel cleared his throat. “We've run a number of blood tests on Commander T’Spock,” he said. “It isn't true Vulcan blood either. It has human blood elements in it.”

“It should be possible to filter out the human factors.”

“Even you couldn't give that much blood, T’Spock,” Bones said, shaking her head, “it would kill you.”

“Bones,” Jaime said, drawing her attention back to Amanda.

Bones softened a little. As refined as her emotional control clearly was, she was still obviously nearly beside herself. Her expression was controlled, but her eyes were wide, and overbright with suppressed tears.

“Mrs. Sarek,” Bones said gently, “you must understand the chances are extremely small to find a way to produce sufficient T-negative blood—“

“Indeed,” T’Spock interrupted, “I would estimate the odds-“

“Please don’t,” Amanda said in a thin voice.

“If there is a way, we’ll find it,” Bones pressed on, “but I don’t want to give you false hope. Either of you,” she added, glancing at Sarek.

Sarek looked impassively back at her. “If I cannot have this operation, I will die,” he said simply, “there will be no one to blame. The odds are against me. I accept this fact.”

This looked to be far from comforting for Amanda - and Bones certainly didn’t blame her. “I’ve… got to go talk to the security team,” Jaime said awkwardly. “About… Ambassador Gav’s death…”

“Yes, of course. Go on,” Bones said. T’Spock, predictably, left with Jaime - not even bothering with a token farewell, just disappearing silently out the door after her. Bones sighed and massaged her temples. She could feel a headache coming on. “Chris,” she said, “run some computer simulations on diluting Vulcan plasma with saline and succinylated gelatin. Check about dextrans too. Maybe we can stretch our stock out a little further…”

“Yes, doctor,” Chapel said, and retreated to the other room.

Bones rubbed her eyes, then looked at Amanda. “Why don’t you take a seat?” she said. “Seems like you’re going to be here for a while.”

“Yes,” Sarek added, “there is no reason for you to remain standing.”

“Alright,” Amanda said quietly. Bones pulled a chair over to Sarek’s bedside, and Amanda sat quietly, hands folded in her lap.

“If you need me, I’ll be in my office,” Bones told them. “Call me immediately if anything happens.”

…

T’Spock was obviously doing her own research on the bridge. She forwarded her results to Bones - and Bones did read them but she discarded the idea almost immediately; from practically the first line she recognized that T’Spock’s suggestion was little more than desperate straw-grasping. If there was one upside to be had about this situation, Bones supposed, it was that it proved that T’Spock still cared about the fate of her father, even if she would or could not directly express it.

Twenty minutes later, T’Spock walked into Bones’ office to confront her about her lack of response to the studies she had forwarded her. Bones reminded herself to be patient. “That,” she said, “was a Rigelian.”

“Rigelian physiology is very similar to Vulcan,” T’Spock said, her voice flat.

“Similar is not good enough. It's still experimental.”

“But it does look promising.”

“T’Spock,” Bones sighed. This woman was an accomplished scientist in her own right, but it was clear that she had reached a topic where her usually formidable intellect failed her - namely, she obviously had no idea how medical trials worked. “We would need such great amounts of blood that even if the drug worked on the Vulcans as well as a Rigelian - which I'm doubtful! - it would still drain Sarek to a critical level.”

“I consider the safety factor low, but acceptable,” T’Spock said.

Bones bit her tongue. It wouldn’t do her any good to point out that T’Spock did not necessarily get a say in the safety factor here. “Plus the fact I've never operated on a Vulcan before,” Bones said instead. “Oh, I've studied the anatomical tapes. I know where all the organs are. But that's a lot different from actual surgical experience. So if I don't kill him with the operation, the drug probably will.”

“What drug, doctor?” Amanda was suddenly standing in the doorway of Bones’ office. She gestured vaguely behind herself. “My husband is asleep. What drug?”

“A chemical stimulant to speed up reproduction and replacement of blood in the body,” Bones said, leaning back in her chair. This was getting uncomfortable… “It’s only experimental.”

“It has been used successfully on test subjects on Rigel V,” T’Spock said.

“It places a tremendous strain on the spleen and the liver,” Bones added forcefully. “In Sarek's condition, the stimulant would kill him.”

“Mr. Chapel?” T’Spock called. Naturally, he appeared immediately. “I underwent a physical examination last week. Would you pull those records, please?”

“Already pulled,” Chapel said, “you’re perfectly healthy, Commander T’Spock.”

“What has this got—“ Bones started, but Amanda cut her off, exclaiming in horror, “You're going to use it on yourself! A transfusion from you to your father.”

T’Spock calmly raised an eyebrow at both of them. “It would seem the only answer.”

“It could damage you internally,” Bones said, standing and glaring at her. “It could kill you. I'm sorry, T'Spock. I can't sanction it.”

“And I refuse to permit it,” Amanda said firmly. “I won't risk both of you.”

“Then you automatically condemn Sarek to death,” T’Spock said, mercilessly, looking her mother dead in the face. Then she turned to stare down Bones as well. “And you, Doctor, have no logical alternative either. If you do not operate, Sarek will die.” She took a step towards the door. Bones didn’t know how to respond and it seemed Amanda wasn’t sure, either. “You now have the means to perform the operation. I am volunteering myself as the blood donor. I'll be at my station until you require me.” She left.

Bones and Amanda exchanged a long look. “Now what do we do?” Amanda said at length, quietly.

Bones sighed through her nose. “I don’t know yet,” she said. “But I’ll keep working at finding a solution. I guess if T’Spock is that determined, then we can consider the surgery an option of last resort, but…”

“I still can’t say I approve,” Amanda said, “but there comes a point where it’s no longer entirely my decision, is it?”

“Sarek is still competent to make his own medical decisions… or at least he was when he was last awake. And for now, he’s still stable. We should be able to ask him again when he wakes up. If he wants to go through with it, and T’Spock is willing to take the risk…”

“She seems to fully believe that you will be capable of preserving both of their lives,” Amanda said. “She must trust you immensely.”

Bones’ cheeks warmed. She huffed. “Well,” she said, “I’m a damned good surgeon. T’Spock knows that.”

“…I’ll trust you too. If this surgery, and the Rigelian drug, is the only option to save my husband— then I’ll permit it. Even at the risk of T’Spock’s life, so long as she trusts you to ensure that she survives the procedure, then…”

“It still might not come to that,” Bones grimaced. “I might still be able to figure out a way to stretch our stored blood. If I can do that, then T’Spock won’t need to transfuse too much and we won’t have to meddle with the Rigelian drug at all. I just need a little more time — and as long as Sarek is stable, we’ve got that time. And there’s got to be something.”

“I trust you,” Amanda said again.

She went back to sit next to Sarek. Bones returned to her office to keep searching for solutions. It was too bad that Vulcans didn’t have a ‘universal donor’ blood type - otherwise she might have been able to recruit transfusions from one of Sarek’s aides. Maybe she could figure out a way to filter the conflicting Rh factors from his aides anyway? Seemed risky, but it would at least keep the risk restricted to only the patient…

Just think, Lenore, dammit, think, she told herself, staring at her computer terminal screen with her elbows on her desk and her hands clasped in front of her mouth. There’s got to be a way. Don’t get frantic. You have the time you need to think…

Ten minutes later, Jaime was stabbed by an Andorian.

Chapter Text

        Captain's log, stardate 3843.4. First Officer T’Spock in temporary command. The captain has been critically wounded by one of the delegates to the Babel conference. The ship is on alert status. We are still being followed by the intruder vessel.

“It's a bad wound,” McCoy said. She was standing with T’Spock at Jaime’s bedside in sickbay; Jaime was completely unconscious, a blanket pulled up over her far enough for bare shoulder to still be visible but the wrap-around bandage for the stabwound to be covered. “Punctured left lung. A centimeter or so lower, it’d’ve gone through the heart.”

T’Spock clenched her hands behind her back. Jaime was unconscious, but the vital signs on the monitor above her were quite good. She seemed to be out of danger, though undoubtedly once she woke up she would be weakened and probably in pain. “I'll be in the brig,” T’Spock said, “questioning the Andorian prisoner.”

Chapel, who was checking on Sarek in the biobed on the other side of the room, suddenly called out: “Doctor, the K2 factor is dropping.”

McCoy hurried over to Sarek’s bed; Amanda hovered anxiously nearby. T’Spock remained by Jaime’s side. McCoy looked over Sarek quickly then gestured hurriedly to T’Spock. “T’Spock, your father is much worse,” she said, “there's no longer a choice. I have to operate immediately. We can begin as soon as you're prepared.”

“No, Doctor,” T’Spock said.

McCoy blinked, then her eyes widened in confusion and anger. “What?”

“My first responsibility is to the ship. Our passengers' safety is by Starfleet order of first importance. We are being followed by an alien - possibly hostile - vessel. I cannot relinquish command under these circumstances.”

“You can turn command over to Scotty!”

“On what grounds, Doctor? Command requirements do not recognize personal privilege.” T’Spock turned to leave. “I’ll be in the brig, interrogating the Andorian.”

“Oh, you—-“ she heard McCoy start furiously at her back, but something stopped her — perhaps, T’Spock thought dimly, her mother. Amanda had always been a competent bridge between human and Vulcan philosophies. Maybe she could explain to McCoy the necessity of T’Spock’s actions.

Jaime’s assailant was sitting in the brig, face tilted down towards the floor but eyes fixed beyond the forcefield, at T’Spock. He was utterly silent. The Andorian ambassador, Shrasa, met T’Spock at the brig for questioning on his behalf — she was a thin woman of a wiry build, tall enough that T’Spock thought she may have been a shen (though she had never considered herself particularly skilled at distinguishing Andorian sexes), and had passed the prime of her life some decades ago.

“He is Thelev, a minor member of my staff,” Shrasa said, nodding at the prisoner. While she obviously knew what had happened, she seemed unconcerned. “I know nothing of him except that he has served adequately.”

“He has been subjected to questioning under verifier scan and truth drug,” T’Spock said. “He reveals nothing. I suggest his mind has been so conditioned as part of a preconceived plan.”

Shrasa merely shrugged. “My people are a violent race,” she admitted easily, “but we've no quarrel with Captain Kirk.”

“Apparently Thelev did.”

“You suggest a plot. How could it profit us to harm the captain?”

T’Spock paused. The Andorians, at least as a whole, did not in fact stand to gain anything obvious if Jaime were hurt or killed. Jaime being in sickbay did not even impact the conference; the Enterprise was still underway to Babel without interruption. Even assuming that the stabbing was only the first step in a larger attack - or the second step, if the unidentified shadowing ship was taken as the first - and the successful end result would scuttle the conference entirely, T’Spock still didn’t see any benefit to Andoria. It was something of an open secret that Shrasa was slated to vote to admit Coridan to the Federation. “I do not know,” T’Spock finally said at length. “There is no logic in Thelev's attack upon the captain. There is no logic in Gav's murder.”

Shrasa’s thin lips parted slightly in a rather unpleasant smile. “Perhaps you should forget logic and devote yourself to motivations of passion or gain,” she said. “Those are reasons for murder.”

She had a point. One that T’Spock was rather out of her depth with. However, emotional cause-and-effect was not a new concept to her. While it still did not explain the attack on Jaime - she had, after all, never met Thelev before in her life - since it had occurred after Gav’s murder, T’Spock could assume that the attack had been part of an attempt to disrupt the investigation into Gav’s murder. Not a strictly logical move (it would have been highly unlikely that it would have kept Gav’s murderer’s identity concealed even if Jaime had died) but T’Spock supposed there was no need to estimate the intelligence and logical faculties of a murderer to be especially high.

Being part of Shrasa’s staff, though, meant that Thelev had quite possibly encountered Gav before. Both Shrasa and Gav were (had been) ambassadors of long standing, after all, and the Enterprise was hardly the first place their paths had crossed. T’Spock went to her quarters to look up records of previous conferences and summits where Shrasa and Gav had both been in attendance, post-dating Thelev’s addition to Shrasa’s staff. If there had been any known incidents… but then again, T’Spock was doubtful that finding even an extremely concrete motive for Gav’s murder would be especially helpful under the circumstances - there was little question that Thelev had been the one to kill Gav, but any connection to the unknown alien ship remained unclear.

And T’Spock did not believe they were unconnected.

Her doorchime rang.

“Come in,” T’Spock said, not looking up from her computer terminal.

Amanda entered the room. Her whole body was rigid. She was obviously upset. “T’Spock,” she said, her voice very brittle, “you must turn command over to somebody else.”

T’Spock stood, holding her arms behind her back to disguise any tension - tension she knew Amanda would be perfectly capable of picking up on if she weren’t careful. “Mother, when I was commissioned, I took an oath to carry out responsibilities which were clearly and exactly specified.”

“Any competent officer can command this ship,” Amanda exclaimed, “only you can give your father the blood transfusions that he needs to live!”

“Any competent officer can command this ship under normal circumstances. The circumstances are not normal. We're carrying over one hundred valuable Federation passengers. We're being pursued by an alien ship. We're subject to possible attack. There has been murder and attempted murder on board. I cannot dismiss my duties.”

“Duty? Your duty is to your father!”

“I know,” T’Spock said, with some reluctance. “But this must take precedence. If I could give the transfusion without loss of time or efficiency, I would. Sarek understands my reason.”

“Well, I don’t,” Amanda snapped, her voice going up half an octave in frustration. “It's not human! That's not a dirty word. You're human, too. Let that part of you come through. Your father's dying…”

“Mother, how can you have lived on Vulcan so long, married a Vulcan, raised a daughter on Vulcan, without understanding what it means to be a Vulcan?”

“If this is what it means— I don’t want to know.”

T’Spock frowned. “It means to adopt a philosophy, a way of life, which is logical and beneficial,” she said. “We cannot disregard that philosophy merely for personal gain, no matter how important that gain might be.”

Amanda stared at her in horror. “Nothing is as important as your father's life!”

“Can you imagine what my father would say if I were to agree - if I were to give up command of this vessel, jeopardize hundreds of lives, risk interplanetary war — all for the life of one person?”

Amanda kept staring for a beat, then turned away slightly, looking around T’Spock’s quarters. For a long moment, she was silent, her eyes picking out the various personal belongings and ceremonial trappings that T’Spock displayed around her room. “When you were five years old,” she said slowly, “and came home stiff-lipped, anguished, because the other girls tormented you saying that you weren't really Vulcan… I watched you, knowing that inside that the human part of you was crying, and I cried, too.” T’Spock turned away from her, embarrassed, and Amanda just kept talking. “There must be some part of me in you, some part that I still can reach. If being Vulcan is more important to you, then you'll stand there speaking rules and regulations from Starfleet and Vulcan philosophy, and let your father die. And I'll hate you for the rest of my life.”

“Mother…” T’Spock started, but she wasn’t sure what to say.

“Oh, go to him,” Amanda pleaded, “now. Please.”

“I… cannot.”

They stared at each other. Amanda drew her arm back, hesitated for the briefest of moments, and slapped T’Spock across the face. Hard. As hard as she could. But an elderly human woman could not strike a Vulcan hard enough to leave so much as a bruise; the force did not even disturb T’Spock from where she was standing, though the shock kept her silent - Amanda had never raised her hand against her, against anyone before - while Amanda turned and stormed out of the room without another word.

T’Spock took three steps after her, reaching out as the door to her quarters whispered shut, but then she stopped. There was nothing she could say to make this situation any easier, on any of them. Amanda would just have to cope with it in whatever way she could.

And T’Spock, in the meantime, still had her duties.

Jaime opened her eyes to Christopher Chapel’s high-cheeked face hovering over her. Ah. She was in sickbay. “Dr. McCoy,” Chapel called while Jaime tried to figure out how she had ended up in sickbay this time.

Right. The Andorian. With the knife. “I'd like to… get my hands… on the guy, with the sledgehammer,” Jaime groaned, trying to lift her head. It felt absurdly heavy. And pounding. Damn. This was not going well.

“The one who hit you?” Chapel said.

“No, the one… inside my head. How long have I—“ she tried to sit up and promptly collapsed back onto the biobed. She felt like a pile of jello. Damn, damn. She recognized this feeling — it was hardly her first time receiving blood transfusions, after all. Unlike Vulcan blood, some components of human blood could be synthesized, so it was standard practice to stretch the reserve blood supply with said synthesized components… and while Jaime certainly understood that this was a medical godsend (and certainly knew that it had saved her life a few times since she’d joined Starfleet), somehow the standard post-synthetic-blood malaise always managed to hit her especially hard.

Seriously, though, had she actually lost that much blood after getting stabbed in the back?

“Now let that be a lesson to you, sweetheart,” Bones drawled. “Just lie there and be happy you're still alive.”

Jaime glowered at her, then pointedly levered herself into a sitting position. Bones didn’t try to stop her. Jaime almost wished she had - aside from having to blink black spots out of her vision, she was now realizing she was wearing absolutely nothing above the waist except for a bandage cinched around her chest and back. It covered her breasts, but only barely. “How’s Sarek?” she said, making an admittedly somewhat uncoordinated grab for the blanket pooled around her hips.

Bones’ dour expression answered pretty well for her even before she spoke. “Not good,” she said. “If only I could operate…”

Jaime rubbed her forehead with her free hand, confused. “What’s… stopping you?” she asked. While blood transfusions did always make her feel like there was an aforementioned man with a sledgehammer banging on the inside of her skull, they didn’t usually result in amnesia. How long had she been out? “I thought you were… all ready…”

“I was,” Bones said tersely. “When you became injured, T’Spock assumed command. She's going to stay there until you're back on your feet, even if it costs Sarek his life.” She scoffed. “Regulations.”

Jaime squinted at her. That was an overly-literal interpretation of regulations, even for T’Spock. “I can’t… damn her for her loyalty… for doing her duty,” she said. She supposed it was possible that her father’s illness combined with an attack on her captain had been all too much for T’Spock to handle, and she was dealing with it by clinging to the Enterprise - a move that Jaime herself had her own familiarity with. “But… I’m not going to let her… commit patricide.” She swung her legs over the side of the biobed, and winced. Her stab wound had already been regenerated, but that didn’t mean the newly-healed tissue wasn’t weak, or tender as hell.

Bones waited nearby, hands already held up to catch her in case she toppled forward. “Jaime, if you stand, you could start to bleed again,” she said sternly.

“Bones, Sarek will die, without that operation… and you can't operate, without transfusions… from T’Spock.” Jaime slid off the biobed, leaning against it at first but gradually shifting her weight entirely to her feet. Her knees felt wobbly, but they didn’t buckle. “I'll convince T’Spock… I'm alright, and… order her to report here. As soon as… she leaves, the bridge, I'll… turn command over to Scotty, and report to my quarters. Will that… fill your prescription?”

Bones gave her extremely dubious look. “Fine,” she said at length. “But I’m coming with you. And you’re not going anywhere ’til you’re dressed, missy.”

Jaime looked down at herself. She had not somehow stopped being shirtless at any point in the past three minutes. “Oh. Uh, right. Obviously.”

A particular spot on her back - where she got stabbed, she assumed - throbbed terribly whenever she lifted her arms, so unfortunately Bones had to help her get back in uniform. Jaime found herself rather glad Sarek was unconscious - it really couldn’t be helped that the Enterprise’s sickbay wasn’t big enough to give every patient their own room, but this would have been nearly intolerable if she’d been seen in such a state by T’Spock’s father. Probably not exactly my top priority right now, though, Jaime thought.

T’Spock was, of course, surprised to see Jaime and Bones turn up on the bridge. “Captain?” she said, visibly perplexed, and not getting up out of the center chair, which was unfortunate because Jaime really needed to sit back down.

“I’ll take over, Miss T’Spock,” Jaime said, trying very hard to sound as normal as possible. “You, report to sickbay… with Dr. McCoy.”

T’Spock looked over at Bones, who had a very convincing ‘There is absolutely no subterfuge going on right now’ face. Nonetheless, T’Spock seemed suspicious. She turned back to Jaime. “Captain, are you quite all right?”

“I've certified her physically fit, Commander T’Spock,” Bones jumped in. “Now, since I have an operation to perform and both of us are required—“

“Get out, T’Spock,” Jaime said. T’Spock still seemed dubious, so Jaime smiled reassuringly at her. For some reason, that always seemed to work on T’Spock, but only if Jaime did it.

And it worked again. T’Spock, though her expression said she was already second-guessing herself on this already, stood up and handed the captain’s chair over to Jaime. Jaime leaned one leg against it, casually.

“Chekova,” Jaime said, because said navigator was looking at her with great and undisguised concern, “what's the… status of the intruder?”

“No change, ma’am,” Chekova said dutifully. “Maintaining its distance.”

Jaime looked over at Uhura. She also looked concerned, but was much better at professionally masking it than Chekova was. “Any further transmissions, Lieutenant?”

“None, ma’am,” Uhura said.

T’Spock and Bones disappeared into the turbolift — and as soon as they were gone, Jaime slumped into the chair, bent nearly double over the arm, wincing. Her stab wound site hurt. “Call… Mr. Scott, to the bridge,” she sighed.

Uhura had reached halfway to her board when Chekova spoke up: “Keptin, the enemy wessel is moving closer.”

Damn, damn, damn! “Belay that order,” Jaime said to Uhura, struggling into a more upright seated position. “I’ll stay here.”

Fortunately, since she was captain, without Bones around nobody could object to her taking such risks with her health. “Captain, I'm picking up the alien signal again,” Uhura said instead of suggesting she call Scotty anyway. “But it's coming from inside the Enterprise.”

“Specific origin?”

“From the brig, ma’am.”

Oh boy.

That was definitely in the top ten worst surgeries of Bones’ life. The Rigelian drug worked, at least - T’Spock’s blood production shot up over 200%, which was probably going to have some interesting aftereffects — but then T’Spock had realized something about the alien ship and attempted to leave sickbay. Chapel had promptly knocked her out with a hypo. And then a space battle started. Trying to operate while the operating theater was getting banged around was bad enough, but then they kept losing power - including when Sarek’s heart had stopped… but the portable cardio-stimulator came in clutch. Sarek lived. So did T’Spock, for that matter. In fact, she didn’t even manage to stay knocked out from the damned hypo, but at least she hadn’t tried to get up again, and had restrained herself from making any pithy comments while Bones was wrist-deep in Sarek’s abdominal cavity.

Jaime sauntered into sickbay like she’d just gotten off a roller coaster, which meant she had just personally commanded the Enterprise through whatever all that had been, i.e., she had never actually called Scotty up to the bridge until it was all over. “Bones?” she said, all innocent concern.

Bones scowled at her. “Are you quite through shaking the ship around?”

“T’Spock, Sarek — how are they?”

“I don't mind telling you, you sure make it difficult for a surgeon trying-“

“Bones!”

“Captain,” Amanda said from the doorway, “come in.”

“That pig-headed Vulcan stamina,” Bones grumbled, following Jaime into the room where both Sarek and T’Spock were sitting on adjoining biobeds. “I couldn't've pulled them through without it.”

“Some doctors… have all the luck,” Jaime quipped.

“Captain,” T’Spock said, “I believe you'll find the alien-“

“We damaged their ship. They… destroyed themselves, to avoid capture. Bones, Thelev's body… will be brought to your lab. I want an autopsy performed, as soon as possible.”

“I think you'll find he's an Orion, Doctor,” T’Spock said.

Bones blinked. “Orion?” she said. Where did she get that from? What did they have to do with anything?

“Intelligence reports that Orion smugglers have been raiding the Coridan system,” T’Spock said, which at least answered part of that.

“But… what would they gain, by an attack, on Starfleet?” Jaime said, cocking her head.

“Mutual suspicion,” Sarek said, “and interplanetary war.”

“Yes, of course,” Jaime muttered, half to herself. “With Orion carefully neutral, they’d… clean up, supplying dilithium to both sides, and continue to raid Coridan.”

“The thing that confused me was the power utilization curve,” T’Spock said, raising an eyebrow. “It made them seem more powerful than a starship or anything known to us. That ship was constructed for a suicide mission. Since they never intended to return to their home base, they could use one hundred percent power on their attacks. The thing I don't understand is why I didn't think of it earlier.”

Jaime gave Sarek a sidelong look, which he emphatically did not return. So instead she looked at Bones. Bones rolled her eyes. “You might have had… something else, on your mind,” she said.

T’Spock looked unamused. “That hardly seems likely.”

“No,” Jaime said with a grin, “but, thank you anyway.”

“And you, Sarek,” Amanda said, turning to her husband with a lightly scolding air. “Would you also say thank you to your daughter?”

Sarek looked at her blankly. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“For saving your life?”

“T’Spock acted in the only logical manner open to her. One does not thank logic, Amanda.”

Amanda seemed to, at long last, reach her limit. “Logic, logic!” she snapped, stamping her foot, “I’m sick to death of logic! Do you want to know how I feel about your logic?!”

“Emotional, isn’t she?” T’Spock said to Sarek.

“She has always been that way,” Sarek said to T’Spock.

“Indeed? Why did you marry her?”

“At the time, it seemed the logical thing to do.”

T’Spock raised an eyebrow. Jaime made an expression that seemed to encompass the entire gamut of human emotions and then some. Sarek raised two fingers, and Amanda sighed loudly, settled down, and smiled with affectionate chagrin and touched two of her own fingers to his.

It’s a miracle Vulcans didn’t go extinct ages ago, Bones thought, exasperated.

“Bones,” Jaime suddenly said. She was listing to the side, her legs clearly giving out, and Bones hurried to help prop her up. “No, no, I’m— alright—“

“If you keep arguing with your kindly family doctor,” Bones said, steering Jaime into the last remaining biobed, “you're going to spend your next ten days right here, honey. If you cooperate, you'll be out in two.”

Jaime pouted at her. T’Spock started to get up. “Doctor, I'll return to my station now,” she said.

“You are at your station, Commander T’Spock,” Bones snapped.

T’Spock leaned back into her bed again, eyebrows raised. Jaime chuckled a little, and winced. “Dr. McCoy,” she said, “I believe you're… enjoying all this.”

“Indeed, Captain,” T’Spock said. “I’ve never seen her look so happy.”

“Shut up!” Bones said. T’Spock actually closed her mouth. Jaime, conversely, opened it, and actually raised a finger to make some inane point. “Shh, shh!” Bones flapped at her. Jaime gave up, letting her hand drop. They were both silent at last.

Both Amanda and Sarek were watching with bemusement.

Bones grinned at them. “Well, what do you know? I finally got the last word.”

By the time the Enterprise got to Babel, Sarek was fully recovered from his surgery, T’Spock was (apparently) fully recovered from the effects of the Rigelian drug, and, so far as Amanda had heard, Kirk was fully recovered from being stabbed. Ambassador Shrasa had sworn some kind of blood vengeance against the Orions for deceiving her, but apart from that, the incident with Thelev seemed to have been completely smoothed over. A separate ship was bringing a replacement for Ambassador Gav (and would presumably also be returning his body to Tellar), which delayed the conference and extended everyone’s stay on Babel, but this was hardly Amanda’s first time being functionally stranded somewhere because Sarek’s schedule had been overturned.

Sarek was, of course, annoyed by it all, but he behaved himself. He and T’Spock were civil with each other for the remainder of the journey - or at least they were about as civil as Amanda could have possibly expected from them - and, after some badgering, he even apologized (in his own way) to Amanda for not mentioning his heart condition to her.

The time finally came to say goodbye. A different ship would be coming to pick the delegates up from Babel, so it was entirely possible it would be another four years - or longer - before Amanda and Sarek saw T’Spock again.

“I thank you for your hospitality, captain,” Sarek said. The aides had already beamed down. “And, T’Spock…”

T’Spock looked at him coolly. He had still never thanked her for the blood transfusions, despite Amanda bringing it up again a few times. Granted, T’Spock didn’t seem to really care. “Yes, Sarek?” she said.

“…your haircut is not appropriate for a Vulcan woman of your stature. Please grow it out.”

“I will not,” T’Spock said bluntly. She raised her hand in the ta’al. “Peace and long life, Sarek. Mother.”

“Live long and prosper, T’Spock,” Sarek said, returning the ta’al. Amanda wanted to hug her, but kept herself restrained to a nod and a small smile.

They beamed down to the facility on Babel, and were shown to yet another set of guest quarters. “Well,” Amanda said at length, “I suppose it’s better that you criticize her hair than her hemline.”

Sarek shot her an unimpressed look. “That is the standard skirt length of the Starfleet women’s uniform. Whether or not I approve of it is irrelevant; T’Spock is wearing it in accordance with regulation.”

“Her hairstyle is also within regulation.”

“There are more appropriate hairstyles that would also fall within regulation.”

Amanda sighed, sitting down on the nearest sofa. The guest quarters on Babel were larger than the ones on the Enterprise, though, in her opinion, not as nice. “Nevermind,” she said. “What did you think of T’Spock’s friends?”

“My opinion on them has no bearing on-“

“Yes, yes. But what is your opinion?”

Sarek came to sit next to her, looking contemplative. “That doctor is quite… contentious,” he said, “but a very competent physician and surgeon, and obviously one who prioritizes the well-being of others. While I do not think that T’Spock needs even more emotional influences in her life, I understand that that is inevitable on a human ship, and Dr. McCoy seems to be one of the best options.”

Amanda nodded. She agreed — T’Spock had done well to make friends (and maybe a little more?) with a woman like Dr. McCoy. “And the captain?”

“She is not quite what I expected from her reputation,” Sarek said, which coming from him was a compliment.

Amanda nodded again. She did like Kirk. “I think your aunt was right,” she said.

“…my wife, please refer to Minister T’Pau in a more dignified manner than ‘your aunt’.”

“She wondered if they might have accidentally bonded, after what happened at the koon-ut-kal-if-fee,” she went on, ignoring Sarek. “After all, if one helps to break pon farr, and isn’t killed in the process - doesn’t that, on some level, imply only one other option?”

“This was speculation,” Sarek said, “the situation was unprecedented. There’s no reason to believe any bonding occurred.”

“I am convinced now that it did…”

“By what evidence?”

Amanda gave him a serious look. “I just know,” she said. “I can feel it.”

“I was not aware,” Sarek said dryly, “that humans possessed such telepathic abilities.”

“Human mothers do, when it comes to their daughters.” She smiled wryly. “And you saw the way T’Spock behaved around Captain Kirk. I’ve never seen her so happy to be at someone else’s beck and call.”

“My wife,” Sarek said with exasperation, “before we boarded the Enterprise, you were convinced that T’Spock had… created a certain emotional attachment to the doctor.”

“Yes, and I still haven’t ruled that out,” Amanda said thoughtfully, “but my point remains: I believe that T’Spock and Captain Kirk are bonded. They just don’t know it.”

“…even if that is the case, Amanda, you must keep that to yourself. It would do no good to inform them of this… theory.”

“I suppose not,” Amanda said, disappointed. “I do wish I could tell them - but I understand why it’s better not to. There are rules against fraternization for a reason.”

“Yes. And we had hoped that T’Spock would… avoid much of the difficulties that came with our own union.”

Amanda sighed. “I always thought such difficulties were inevitable,” she said. “I warned you about Pring.”

“And you were correct,” Sarek said, “but he is no longer of any relevance. T’Spock is now free to marry - and bond with - whoever she pleases, provided she makes a decision before the conclusion of her cycle.”

“If they are bonded, then that decision’s already been made.”

Sarek paused. “Which would be unfortunate,” he said. “I do not disapprove of Captain Kirk, but…”

“You prefer Dr. McCoy?” Amanda guessed.

“I prefer not to speculate on this,” said Sarek blandly.

Amanda huffed out a quiet laugh. “Well,” she said, “I suppose we’ll see what happens in the next seven years.”

“Yes. I suppose we shall.”