DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and is copyright (c) 2003 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.

Belonging (Carter #12, Excelsior #1)

by Djinn and Rabble Rouser

(Contacts: djinn@djinnslair.com or rabblerouser02@aol.com http://www.geocities.com/rabble_rouser_st/ )

The starfield of space was all that showed on the viewscreen, and Spock, reassured that their journey to Beta Lambda IX was progressing as it should, looked over at his first officer. Christine had her head down, working on a padd. As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked over at him, her expression unreadable, then she looked back at her padd. He thought he saw her shoulders tense.

Getting up, he said, "I'll be in my ready room, Commander. The bridge is yours." He heard her murmur assent as he strode toward his office. Once in his ready room, he found himself unable to concentrate on his work. It was unaccountably difficult to focus on the schedule for the membership ceremonies for Beta Lambda IX. He doubted that the captains of the other two vessels that would fly in ceremonial orbit around the planet were having this much trouble with the agenda. But then Sulu and Graumann were probably not embroiled in some strange relationship with their first officers. They were also not forced to deal with some shadowy section of Star Fleet at work on their ships, a section that had its own agenda and its own dirty means for accomplishing whatever that agenda was.

Spock pushed away from his terminal, paced over to the viewscreen. The last time he had seen Sulu had been on Earth for Mister Scott's funeral. When Spock and Christine had traveled back together. When they had left Kerr behind. In his memories, Spock was standing in front of another window, Christine leaning back against him, his hands on her arms, his lips at her neck.

"No," he said with a hoarse whisper. He had to stop this. It was helping none of them, especially not him. And it was most unprofessional, most un-Vulcan to allow himself to become so enmeshed in this desire.

It had not helped to meet the alternate version of Christine. To know that in her universe, he and Kerr shared her. He did not see that as a likely alternative in this universe. Not with all that had happened between them. But he had envied her the life she seemed so impatient to return to. He wondered if his Christine had been as eager to get back to their Carter.

His chime sounded. He took a moment to try to settle, to present the implacable Vulcan that most of his crew assumed him to be. "Come."

Christine walked in, clearly expecting him to be at his desk, surprised when she turned and saw him at the viewscreen. As the door closed behind her, she stood awkwardly, not speaking.

Spock could feel the strange bond between them flare and he had to force himself not to shudder from the emotions it aroused in him. The connection between them had been broken when she was in the other universe. He had not even thought about it when it was gone, but as soon as she had returned the bond had slammed back into life, hitting him like a blow and seeming to intensify even more since then. It was curious; when she'd been lost on Taillte, he'd been able to sense her, but this time he had not. He did not know if it was the presence of the other Chapel that had prevented the link or if there were some other reason. Some reason they could use to get rid of the thing, this bond that neither of them had deliberately called up, this bond that allowed him to know too much about what she was feeling for him, that gave him cruel hope that she might still choose him, that a chance for a future together was not dead.

The bond that must carry similar emotions from him back to her. As Spock stared at her, he could sense her discomfort, but also worry and compassion and affection--too much affection for just a friend. And therein lies our problem, he thought as he walked to his desk.

"Can I help you, Commander?" He kept his voice level, the coldness that of a proper Vulcan who does not see the need for an interruption. It was unfair to their friendship, but it might be the only way he could deal with her.

She followed him, dropped into the chair in front of his desk. "So formal, Spock?" Her voice was slightly wistful, but full of understanding.

He knew she would accept it if he shut her out again. He wondered if she might even welcome it--not having to second guess her choice of Kerr on a daily basis would probably be a relief for her. At the thought, irritation filled him. Why should she get the easy way out in this? Why should he be the only one to suffer? They were dark thoughts, unworthy of him. Yet he could not stop them. He sighed and saw her eyes widen at the sound. "What would you prefer, Christine?"

When she did not answer right away, he filled in the blanks for her. She would prefer that she had never been caught in that cave-in with him. That she had never fallen in love with him. Or that he had never fallen in love with her. That they had not chosen Kerr to serve on the ship, or perhaps that she had never agreed to serve on the Carter, never participated in that team-building class that had started them on the path to where they stood now. That they had never made love in San Francisco. So many things she might regret, might wish had never happened. "Are you sorry you accepted this assignment?" he asked quietly.

"No." She shook her head to strengthen her quick answer. "I'm not sorry for any of it."

He made a small sound, his own equivalent of a bitter laugh as the air exploded in a barely perceptible sniff.

She seemed to know exactly what the sound meant. "I'm serious, Spock. I don't regret any of it."

She was suddenly sitting too close, even though she had not moved from the chair on the other side of the desk. He stood quickly, his chair rolling back hard and slamming against the low credenza. As he walked back to the viewscreen, he said, "How can you not regret what has happened, Christine? It is tearing you up inside. Do you relish this pain?"

His back was to her, but he could sense her getting up, walking toward him. He expected her to say something caring, something sweet and ineffectual recognizing that he was in pain too. He did not expect her to touch him, and her hand on his back was like an electric shock. He turned so quickly he startled her, causing her to step back in alarm. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her toward him. His voice was controlled and low, but he knew by her expression that she could hear the anger in it as he said, "By what right do you do this? You say I may not have you, then you touch me? I am beginning to think that perhaps you do enjoy the pain, you enjoy my pain."

"Spock, no." She tried to pull away.

He did not let go, grabbed her other arm and pulled her even closer. "What do you want from me?"

She was breathing hard, her eyes slightly panicked. Through the bond, he could feel fear and alarm. And, as his grip tightened on her, he could feel desire and love and pain. He leaned down, his lips close to hers. "You cannot have us both."

"I know that," she said, her voice broken. Then she whispered, "But she could. How come she could?"

"She was not you." He thought of the other Chapel, the easy way she had related to him, and to Kerr. The teasing expression she had worn as she'd told him how she hadn't had to choose just one of them. She had been attractive but light years away from the Christine that was his.

The Christine that he was pulling against him, that was not trying to fight him.

The Christine that was crying even as her lips met his. The bond flared as they touched and then she wrenched herself away from him.

"I am not her," she said, refusing to look at him and breathing hard as she took a few steps back. "I chose." Then she looked up at him, and in her expression he read something that he hadn't expected to see. Fear.

He took several steps back, would have taken another if the viewscreen against his back hadn't stopped him. "I beg forgiveness."

She looked up at him and for a moment he saw brown Vulcan eyes instead of her blue ones, he saw Valeris' skin marked from where his fingers had dug into the meld points. "I did not mean..." He turned away, unable to look at her.

He heard her sob, then she was behind him, her arms coming around his waist, her body pressed against his back, comforting him with her warmth. "You didn't hurt me, Spock. I'm sorry. It's all right."

He laid his hands over hers and they stood in silence for a long moment. Her words mocked them. It wasn't all right. It was never going to be all right.

He gently pulled her arms away, turned to face her. She was crying and he touched her face, smoothing the tears into her skin. "When did it become so dark between us, Christine? How can love twist this way?"

She shook her head.

From somewhere, he found the strength to walk away from her. "This must end. You have made your choice and we must abide by it. In a manner more befitting two adults, two professionals than we have shown up to now. This cannot be all there is between us. We have a ship to run." The ragged breath he took didn't support his words, but he persevered. "Time will perhaps heal what has gone wrong between us. In the meantime, I suggest we keep our interactions to a minimum and only for ship's business."

She nodded, wiped at her eyes and headed for the back door. "I'll take the bridge. I just need a minute to clean up."

He nodded, and not for the first time was grateful for the back hallway that joined their two offices. As he watched her walk away, he forced himself to seek control, to master the emotions that were assailing him. Emotions that came both from the bond and from his own heart.

--------------------

Janice Rand scowled at her reflection on the mirrored walls of the Excelsior's gym. The form-fitting leotard wasn't flattering, the bright lighting unkind. She could see all too well the way her middle had thickened and that she now had curves in the wrong places--and in the right places they sagged. She sighed. Well, that's what the gym was for wasn't it? To put the curves and bumps and swells back in the right places? Actually, it was for making sure that she could keep up with the youngsters on landing parties, but it couldn't hurt right? She peered closely into the mirror, saw the lines her scowling was making and tried a smile. That didn't seem to help. She didn't have lines; she had gouges. Well, she'd be damned if she was going to imitate a Vulcan mask to smooth her face out. So absorbed was she in pondering her reflection, she was startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Mirror, Mirror on the--"

"Shut up, Charlene." She put her hands on her hips and glared at her friend. Janice had known the ship's chief engineer when Charlene Masters was a mere lieutenant and Janice an even lowlier yeoman on the Enterprise. She knew there were no more than a couple of years between them yet Masters looked more than a decade younger. She wasn't sure whether to attribute that to Masters' dark skin or facial structure or just plain good luck. It probably helped that Charlene had kept fit.

Just like Christine. Back when they all had first met, it was Janice whose baby face kept getting her mistaken for a teen--that had held even when she was well into her thirties. Christine was the one who had looked older, mature--with one of those ageless faces that look much the same from twenty to fifty. Unlike hers in her youth, Christine's face would never be described as cute, or pert, or beautiful. Christine had one of those faces people called handsome--but which wore well. Exasperated with her thoughts, Janice slapped the mirrored wall and gestured towards the exercise equipment. "Shall we?"

Masters grinned and to Janice's irritation began to hum a jaunty tune as they walked across the room. God, she hated morning people. Masters must have read her mind--or more likely her face--because she sobered and stopped her with a hand. "Is it the hour of the day or the prospect of getting on that treadmill that has you so cranky? Or something else?"

Janice shrugged and tried to soften the rebuff with a smile. Soon, she found she didn't have much breath for conversation and was left alone with her thoughts in a way she hadn't been for a long time. Her hours were so crowded one upon the other she hadn't been making this kind of time for herself. Masters kept up the kind of cheerful chatter in the background Janice knew was meant to keep her spirits up without requiring a response, and she nodded vaguely in the right places and hoped she'd survive the next twenty minutes with some dignity. The session left her breathless and sweaty and the pull in her muscles told her she'd pay for this tomorrow--but it was a start. She flopped herself down dramatically on a nearby bench and grinned triumphantly at Masters as she sat beside her.

"Didn't think I'd make it, did you?"

"Not that I'm not happy to gain an exercise partner but what's up? Seeing you subject yourself to something that makes you sweat has to count as a sign of the apocalypse."

"After three years of studying gaseous anomalies, Excelsior has been deemed sufficiently shaken down to end its stretch of milk runs. No more stellar phenomena that can be safely viewed or charted from the bridge or a shuttlecraft. And as Excelsior's first officer--"

"You are not required to lead landing parties. Leave it to the kids like Thren and Tuvok. That's not what they pay you the big bucks for."

"You know the captain's not going to stay on the bridge and leave it to them. So, I'll just have to make sure I can keep up."

And as for Tuvok? Janice wished she could discuss Tuvok with Charlene. Charlene had served for several years on a largely Vulcan-crewed starship and professed at times to prefer Vulcans to humans. But if Janice knew anything about Vulcans, it was that they valued privacy and discretion above all else. So that meant that like many things this was something she could discuss only with the captain. And this wasn't one of those things where they saw eye to eye. Tuvok wanted to leave Starfleet and Janice thought if that's what he wanted they should let him go. But Sulu kept appealing to the Vulcan personal loyalty to a commander to urge Tuvok to delay. He felt that Tuvok was just going through a bad stretch and if he were allowed to resign now, he would regret it later.

Janice had felt Tuvok pull away from all of them ever since the incident with the Klingons at the Azure Nebula several months ago. At the time she had been outraged that Tuvok would openly defy the captain right on the bridge of the ship during a crisis, would question the legality of his orders. Speaking with Tuvok afterwards had been frustrating, as if they had been speaking different languages.

She knew from personal experience that Vulcans could be loyal to a fault. She remembered Spock refusing to believe her when she had accused Kirk of assaulting her. How Spock had questioned her right in Kirk's presence and backed him up to the hilt well before he had been exonerated. She could not believe Tuvok couldn't understand that they had to try to rescue Kirk and McCoy even in defiance of orders. They couldn't just leave them behind to rot on Rura Penthe. Tuvok was affronted when he tried to make an official report only to find that the entire incident had been erased from the logs. She thought that it might be that he held Dmitri Valtane's close brush with death against them. As far as she could tell, Dmitri was his closest friend. She winced when she remembered his reply to the suggestion.

"I object that you risked the entire ship for two men. I object that you would risk the peace of the quadrant for personal reasons. I object that you would defy orders and willfully doctor records and treat a starship like a personal fiefdom. That Ensign Valtane could have died--did die and would have remained dead had Doctor Vaxis not resuscitated him--is a minor issue of little consequence in comparison. Although I would note that your mission failed and that if the ensign had died it would have been for nothing."

All this was delivered with Tuvok standing up ramrod straight, eyes center, in a tone of voice that flashed her back to a certain young yeoman being dressed down by a certain first officer after a memorable shore leave. She had felt twenty-five again and had found it was not a good feeling. Her face and voice had not revealed any of that as she had coolly dismissed Tuvok from her presence if not her mind. Later that night as she had recounted the conversation to Sulu and compared Tuvok to Spock he had laughed and said, "But Jana, Vulcans are individuals. Why should Tuvok act like Spock?"

Her face had burned with embarrassment. After over thirty years in Starfleet she had thought that a lesson she had learned many times over. But if Spock and Tuvok were different, they were enough alike that she found it difficult to penetrate the young Vulcan's walls. And she had enough practice with reading the subtle Vulcan expressions and cues to be sure that Tuvok was unhappy. She thought that even over loyalty, integrity was what Tuvok valued and that he had already found the humans he served with wanting.

And Tuvok wasn't their only problem. Things had kept going wrong lately. A miscommunication with Command that caused a colony to be settled on a planet they had classified as having proto-sentients. A valuable consignment of a rare drug that had been stolen from the Excelsior as she hung in spacedock above Earth. An order that missed them causing a diplomat to be stranded, which caused an unforgivable insult to two parties who had asked for a mediator to avert a war. Their security officer, Lieutenant Thren, who Janice had often found a bit paranoid as it was, had to be held back from putting so many layers of security protocols on ship routine it would have been impossible to function. And she had to admit Thren's attitude was contagious. Or maybe it was just that after having to deal with Kirk's death and now Scotty's, it was easier to give in to speculation about conspiracy than to accept that stupidity and chance could take so much away.

Janice wiped the sweat from her eyes to see Yeoman Charma coming toward them. Watching the young woman saunter through the gym, hips swaying, was like watching a queen make her progress before her subjects. There wasn't a het male--or susceptible female--whose head didn't at least swivel toward her and several who paused to gape outright. Part of Janice was amused. Helps to be half-Orion, she thought. Part of her was sad. I used to be the one turning heads, she couldn't stop herself from thinking. She took the padd and dismissed Charma. Not even 0600 and work has already found me, she thought.

"Our new orders?" Masters asked.

"Ceremonial duty on Beta Lambda IX. Should be very pretty--three starships."

Masters rolled her eyes at the news. "Good Lord. What was that you said about no more milk runs? Please tell me I don't have to go to any of those stiff-collar affairs."

Janice laughed. She knew how much Masters hated formal dress uniform events. Sulu on the other hand would be in his element. "Oh, I dunno. I'd think you'd love the chance for some duty on the planet. After all one of the ships will be the Carter. Isn't your ex the chief engineer?"

"Which one?" Masters asked archly.

"You know very well which one!"

"You know, Janice, there's a reason he's an 'ex.' I love the man but he's impossible. Not that, being the cold-hearted bitch queen that I am, I'm a prize either."

"How long were you two married?"

"Two years and two months. Two years the first time and two months the second." Masters looked at her sidelong. "And that's not the only auld lang syne. Captain Spock and Commander Chapel too. Should be fun."

"Yeah," Janice replied in a voice that suggested anything but.

-----------------------------------

Captain Sulu sat behind his desk in his ready room and calmly regarded Lieutenant Thren over a cup of Vulcan tea. He knew the Andorian officer would wait for him to speak first and deliberately adopted a relaxed, unhurried posture. Sulu warmed his hands on the cup and blew across the surface of the hot liquid. He could have set it at the perfect temperature to drink, but something about the way the heat dissipated through the thin china into his hands and how the fragrant steam wafted over his face as he waited for it to cool was more pleasing than employing a replicator's instant precision. The drink was Tuvok's own blend that the ensign had shared with Sulu back before, well, before things got interesting. Back when Tuvok trusted him. Back when they all trusted each other.

He saw the young man's antennae twitch back and forth in what he recognized was a sign of impatience. Thren, Sulu decided, would have to learn to settle down or he'd get on people's nerves all too quickly.

Thren had taken the place of Lt. Commander Aku, a much older, and, in Sulu's opinion, far steadier man whose judgment he had completely relied on. Aku had been badly injured in the Azure Nebula incident and it would still take months more of therapy before he would fully recover. Sulu was a fair man and realizing that on some level he held it against Thren that he was taking Aku's place, he tried to compensate.

Sulu had known it was unlikely Aku would be reassigned to the Excelsior when he became well enough to return to duty. As it was, he had allowed a very junior subordinate to act in Aku's place for months, trying to forestall a permanent replacement. Finally, Admiral Young had told him to either pick a new chief or she'd choose one for him; that the position was too important to keep an acting chief in so long. He and Rand had picked Thren themselves but Sulu felt as if his hand had been forced.

Still, Sulu had to admit Thren's record demonstrated both courage and brilliance and he couldn't fault his competence or zeal on the Excelsior in the two months he had been aboard. Yet something in him refused to warm to the man. And knowing he had no good reason he reminded himself to project an open and friendly presence. To _be_ open and friendly. "So, Lieutenant, what's on your mind?"

Thren leaned forward, his antennae now pointed forward in an attitude of respectful attention. "Sir, I've been thinking of our recent problems and how our next assignment could provide an excellent opportunity to flush out our quarry."

"Frankly, I remain unconvinced there's any quarry to flush out." Sulu raised his hand for silence as he saw Thren open his mouth to object. "On a starship you must expect the unexpected and we're not exempt from Murphy's Law. I can remember the first five-year mission on the Enterprise. Transporter malfunctions splitting a man in two and stranding others on a freezing planet..." Sulu took a sip of the sweet, hot beverage trying to stave off the cold that memory brought. "A virus wrecking havoc on the ship..." And that's one story I hope you never hear, he thought, flashing on a memory of how, playing D'Artagnan, he had chased crew through the Enterprise with his rapier. "Capricious beings with God-like powers, shapechangers, rogues, mind-altering spores, you name it. It doesn't need a conspiracy."

"No sir, but neither can you rule it out. Even Kirk's Enterprise, famous for the ferocious loyalty of its crew, had its Finney, its McGivers." Thren flashed a wistful smile and there was awe in his voice. "I don't think you realize, sir, someone my age from a Starfleet family, I grew up on those tales and we studied many of those missions at the Academy."

Sulu felt rather embarrassed by the admiration he saw in Thren's eyes and couldn't help grinning back. But the connection was fleeting and he saw the Andorian gather himself and his eyes narrow as he brought the conversation back to its focus.

"My point is that in a crew this size it would be actually surprising if you didn't have a bad...what's the Terran phrase? A bad pear?"

"A bad apple."

"Exactly." Thren nodded emphatically as if he felt Sulu finally understood. "And to me the recent...mishaps"--Thren's lips twisted as if he had a sour taste in his mouth--"don't feel like the standard weirdness. They make my antennae prickle. I see something more deliberate and planned in this."

"Maybe so, " Sulu grudgingly conceded. "What do you propose?"

"Our next assignment involves a ceremony welcoming a new Federation member into the fold. The event will attract personages throughout the Federation and beyond. I cannot imagine a better opportunity for the traitor in our midst--"

"If he exists."

"If he or she exists," Thren continued firmly, "it would be the perfect opportunity to report to whoever is controlling them. I want to put some selected officers under surveillance." Thren extended a padd and Sulu scanned the list, his eyes widening as he took in the name at the top.

"You must be out of your mind."

"I know you and Commander Rand go back many years all the way to the Enterprise. I understand you are..." Thren seemed to be struggling for the right word. "...close."

Sulu's voice was cold and forbidding. "She is my First Officer and I trust her implicitly."

"A position and trust which gives her the perfect access and puts her above suspicion. As a junior officer, she was West's aide when he had a posting under Admiral Cartwright."

"Is that what this is about? Some stupid witch hunt? If everyone who had some connection to the Khitomer conspirators is to be put under investigation, you're going to be very busy. You can start with me. I was Valeris' commander on her first deep space mission straight out of the Academy."

"There is more. I have found evidence of tampering of the logs and communications records right around the time this ship suffered its first significant casualties--exactly during the time of the Khitomer conspiracy. As both communications and first officer, no one would have better opportunity, access, and knowledge to do that."

Oh God. The irony. Janice had altered those logs under protest and now? Sulu felt stiff with cold as if he were locked in the icy grip of that subzero planet long ago. Only his eyes moved down and to the right to take in an old-fashioned flat photograph of Janice and his daughter Demora at her graduation from the Academy. He and Chekov were in the photo too and he had thought that made it safe to have it here openly on his desk, so that no one could imply any special relationship. He looked up then at Thren and saw that the young officer was swallowing nervously and licking his lips. Thren opened his mouth as if to say something and then shut it firmly his lips narrowing with the force of the words he would not say. He knows. Despite our attempts to be discrete somehow he knows.

"The logs were edited on my orders and for reasons I'm not willing to discuss. You're just going to have to accept my word it has nothing to do with the recent incidents."

Surprisingly, Thren nodded, seemed to accept that. "I hope someday you'll trust me with those reasons."

Sulu was surprised to catch himself thinking that someday he probably would. "Do you have any other reasons to suspect the Commander?"

"Only that she's resisted my suggestions to make the ship more secure and to question those officers who had access under truth detector."

"We discussed your proposals and I agreed with her they would make a bad tradeoff between efficiency and security. And I was the one who ruled out such a general investigation without specific evidence to put someone under suspicion. A starship runs on loyalty based on trust, Thren. Does that reassure you enough?"

"No, Captain, not completely. Please understand, I like and respect the commander. My understanding is that you started in the sciences. Surely you understand that when testing a hypothesis you must try to rule out many different variables? She still has the kind of access that makes me want to put her under surveillance, at least until I rule her out."

"And some of these other names. Really? Ensign Tuvok? Hardly someone senior enough to have any of the kind of access or knowledge you were saying made you suspicious."

"Commander Rand herself put him on report and relieved him of duty for defying your orders during a crisis."

"Like all the Vulcans I have known, Tuvok is a man of utmost integrity."

"Would you include Valeris among that number? Vulcans can also have a deplorable tendency to believe they know best. The kind of arrogance that more than once has caused them to commit acts of questionable legality in the name of the needs of the many."

"I would not include Tuvok among them," Sulu replied dryly. "His defiance consisted of questioning the legality of my orders. You should note my own appended notation that I believed Tuvok was not out of bounds in his objections." He looked further down the list. "Yeoman Charma?"

"I am concerned about the many gaps in her records."

"Which given her background is understandable. Her mother was a refugee after all. Really, Thren, if we're going to investigate people on evidence this nebulous, I have to wonder who we're going to set to investigate you. You also have the perfect kind of access and position and our problems started not long after you joined the ship."

Sulu saw the young officer stiffen and blotches of dark blue spread over his face. "Sir, I do not enjoy this. If I don't have your confidence, then I ask that you find another Security Officer. But if I am to stay, I ask that you let me do that job as best I know how."

For a long time Sulu and Thren stared at each other across the length of the desk. Sulu found he was gripping the smooth surface for dear life. This was exactly the kind of nightmare scenario Janice cited in arguing against their taking their relationship beyond friendship. If he didn't love her, if they weren't lovers, would he sign on to having her investigated? How, if as he suspected Kirk and Spock had such a relationship, had the captain resolved such questions? And suddenly in asking the question of himself he relaxed, at peace with his answer and loosened the grip on his desk.

No, it made no difference. The trust between them was based on much more than that. On a knowledge that went thirty years deep and seeing her in every possible mood, passion, stress, situation--the good, the bad, and the ugly. He grinned inwardly at what Janice would think of him putting it that way. Certain things were his, and his completely. Like this ship. And his trust in her. If they had never become lovers, his answer would still be the same. Just the friendship and the knowledge would be enough just as it was enough when he risked everything to try to retrieve Kirk and McCoy. He'd make the same decision today. It was who he was. He knew of no other way to be the captain of this ship.

"You have my full confidence. But so does she. So find another way. I want you to fully brief her on the situation and together come up with a plan of action ready for my approval and implementation before we leave Beta Lambda IX."

"Sir?"

"When they make you captain, you can do it your way. Meanwhile we'll do it my way." An imp of the perverse made Sulu want to order Thren to add Tuvok to his working group. Something told him those two would probably hit it off and that Tuvok would have a flair for security matters. But he decided he couldn't push his Chief of Security that far without it seeming that he truly had no confidence in his judgment. "Dismissed." Sulu then turned back to Tuvok's Vulcan tea blend, only to find it had become cold and bitter.

-----------------------------------

Carpenter looked up to see Christine approaching her office. "Commander."

Christine smiled as she sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. "It's a personal visit, Delynn."

"In that case, hiya, Christine." Carpenter grinned. "What brings you down to sickbay?"

Christine looked out at the main room where several doctors and nurses were in conference. She gave Carpenter a sad smile. "A need for the familiar?" There was a note in her voice that Carpenter couldn't quite identify.

"Everything okay?"

Christine seemed to rally as she said, "Sure, everything's fine," but Carpenter was getting better at reading through the practiced smile. She studied her friend. There was something lost about her. Something sad and a bit hopeless.

She leaned forward, touched Christine's hand briefly. "You know you can talk to me."

Christine gave her a wry smile. "I'm your boss."

"So?" Carpenter leaned back. "I'm still head of sickbay. I know it's sort of hard to tell with a ship this full of medicos but I believe that makes me deputy CMO?"

Christine thought about that. "Never really considered it, but I think you're right."

"So I could relieve you."

Christine raised an eyebrow and Carpenter wondered if she knew how much she looked like Spock when she did that. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning you aren't the one with all the power in this relationship, missy." Carpenter laughed. "We're friends. Getting to be closer ones, I think."

Christine nodded. "Why didn't we get to know each other better when we were both on Earth?"

"We each had our own circles. We got on when we were at work." Carpenter shrugged. "I always wanted to get to know you better. Just ran out of time, I guess."

"Same here. Well, we have plenty of time now."

Carpenter wondered if that were true. Christine seemed to have her hours pretty well filled with Kerr...and with Spock--Carpenter refused to examine that too closely. And she had a new friendship with Stephen that was taking up more of her time than she'd expected. "So what's up? Why the need for the familiar?"

"Have you ever wished you could go back to a time when life was simple?"

Carpenter laughed. "Life is never simple, Christine. Except maybe when we're kids."

"You're right. It's never simple. Never easy." Christine seemed to relax a bit, leaning back in her chair and allowing her shoulders to slouch. "You know, we spend years wanting something, wishing for it desperately, and then later, when we've completely given up on it, it shows up."

Carpenter waited, sure there would be a point.

"But it's never what we think it will be...or should be. It's different. Hard." Christine slumped farther in the chair. "Hurts." She looked as if she was lost in the past. "And then, things you wish had gone differently...you find out that what you had was even better than you ever guessed. That hurts too. He--" Christine seemed to shake herself, as if realizing what she was saying. "God, listen to me ramble." It was a good act, but the lost look was back and Christine was having little success wiping it from her face.

Carpenter leaned forward. "If you're hurting...if someone is hurting you, you can tell me. I'm here and I'm a good listener." For a moment, she thought that Christine might open up to her. Then she saw her friend's expression close down, realized the moment was over. Maybe she'd talk about it later. Or not. Maybe it wasn't something Christine could ever share with her, especially if, as Carpenter suspected, it had to do with the captain.

Christine laughed lightly. "It's been a strange few weeks, Delynn. I'm sorry I'm going on and on." She rose, smiled warmly at Carpenter. "I better get back to the bridge."

Carpenter nodded. But as she watched Christine leave, she shook her head in worry. She knew a pot ready to boil over when she saw one, and this was certainly a case of that. Christine needed to get whatever was bothering her out before that happened. Because a spill like that was, at the very least, a mess to clean up. And at the worst, could leave all concerned very, very burned.

-----------------------------------

Thren strode leisurely into the ship's aft lounge carrying a game of kal-toh and began setting it up. It was quiet here now in the middle of beta shift, well into ship's night with only a few groups, couples, and some more solitary souls scattered among the various tables. If necessary, he could play against the computer, but he was depending on attracting a particular player he knew was off-duty now, in fact probably the only other person on the ship who could play the game.

"You play?" said a level, well-modulated voice that nevertheless conveyed incredulity. Thren did his best not to grin and to keep his antennae still. Without looking up he could imagine Tuvok's right eyebrow lifting till it met his hairline.

"I've always found games of strategy like the human chess or the Vulcan kal-toh...limbering for the mind."

"Chess is hardly comparable in complexity."

Typical Vulcan, Thren couldn't stop himself thinking. Nothing is as challenging as their games, nobody as logical or intelligent as they are. "I assume then you know how to play?" He gestured toward a seat. "Would you mind giving me a game? I find playing against the computer rather dull. The computer can't give me any conversation."

"I would think any conversation would detract from the concentration you would need."

"I don't see the point of a game between two people without that kind of interaction. Where's the fun?" Thren did then grin at Tuvok's expression--or rather his careful non-expression. "Consider it a challenge." And that apparently got him for at that Tuvok sat down and at Thren's nod made the opening move. Thren wouldn't necessarily play this first game to win. He almost never did in any game of strategy. This first game would be played to probe his opponent's weaknesses and strengths.

And not just as a kal-toh player. He had found that with their mind taken up partly by a game, people would often tell you things they wouldn't in a formal interrogation or interview. Thren had already found out what had happened on the bridge the day Tuvok was put on report. His conversation with the captain had convinced him he was right to think something was being covered up but not that he could let it go. It was simple from Commander Rand's report to go back and find out who had been on the bridge back then. He then went straight to the most junior officer involved, Ensign Valtane, and had found it easy to learn the entire tale. Valtane wasn't even aware it was anything he should hide. Thren found then he couldn't condemn the captain for his actions and decided to let the matter rest.

Afterwards he could hardly consider Tuvok high on his list of suspects. He had known it was not likely from what he knew anyway, but poring through service records and logs and reports of the incidents hadn't yielded much. He had been telling the captain the truth when he said he didn't enjoy having to be suspicious of his fellow officers. He wasn't happy that now for him every interaction, every conversation, left him wondering: could it be him? Could it be her? He could only do his best to get to know the people around him better and see if that would shake something loose. And regardless he found himself all the more intrigued by an officer who not two months into his first duty assignment was brave enough to protest right to the captain's face on the man's own bridge.

Tuvok's first move was interesting. One that already ruled out simpler patterns of play. He quickly countered it in a way that should keep Tuvok occupied for a while contemplating his next move.

"How do you find serving on a largely human crewed ship? Many Vulcans, I know, find the adjustment hard."

"It is difficult to navigate through human emotional complexities."

"Almost all sentient species are emotional creatures. I actually find humans rather staid compared to many. Like Andorians...or Klingons."

"But no other people seem more determined that others accept their values, adapt to their ways and customs."

"Actually I know many people who would say that applies as much or more to Vulcans. Do you truly think a human on a Vulcan ship wouldn't be expected to adjust? Wouldn't get a forbidding silence or cutting remark if they laughed or smiled too much or raised their voice?" At that Tuvok remained silent and returned his gaze to the game. Thren filled in his reply from other conversations he'd had with Vulcans. That it was different because the Vulcan way was better, the way to peace. Perhaps he was unfair. Perhaps it was to Tuvok's credit he didn't answer him that way.

"Is that why you found it hard to accept the captain's orders to rescue Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy," he asked softly, "you believed it an emotional decision?"

Tuvok's hand, which had been about to place the next kal-toh stick in position, froze. "I found it an illogical decision. What is more it was an illegal order."

"But ultimately considering what we know now the correct decision. Starship captains are given considerable autonomy because there must be flexibility as a situation develops. You do not know, could not have known, what knowledge the captain based his decision upon that you did not have access to."

"The captain's justification to me for his decision was an emotional appeal to loyalty and to the concept that those we serve with are family."

"Ah." Thren saw Tuvok's face compress in what an Andorian or human would be irritation at his reply. Of course, Thren was sure Tuvok would tell him otherwise, that perhaps it was just an expression of concentration on the game. Thren then saw Tuvok finish his interrupted move. He was impressed. In only a few moves Tuvok had narrowed his options considerably. But not, Thren thought smugly, enough, as he responded with a move of his own.

"Nor does it excuse the entire incident being erased from the logs. It should have been reported."

"How do you know it wasn't?"

Tuvok looked up in surprise, evidently the thought had never occurred to him.

Though Thren actually doubted it had been reported. "Just because it was removed from ship's records doesn't mean it wasn't reported. Perhaps it was decided by both sides that a battle between a Klingon war cruiser and Federation starship on the eve of peace was best forgotten. That would certainly be my recommendation. That it be forgotten," he said pointedly.

Tuvok nodded slowly and Thren expelled a breath he hadn't been aware he had been holding. Perhaps this Vulcan wasn't as rigid as he had assumed. And when he saw Tuvok's next move, it was his turn to be irritated. This wouldn't be as easy as he'd believed. There's no doubt he has a good mind, an ability to see patterns and develop a
strategy, Thren thought.

"You're in the sciences?" Thren asked. Tuvok nodded. "I don't suppose you've ever thought of moving to tactical or security?" Tuvok didn't grin of course, but Thren thought he caught an answering gleam in his eyes nevertheless at the implied compliment. "You play a very interesting game, Mister Tuvok. A very interesting game."

-----------------------------------

Spock tried and failed to shake off his dark mood as he headed for the transporter room to beam down to Beta Lambda IX. He was having trouble forgetting what had happened in his ready room with Christine. His desire for her worried him more than he would ever tell her. And the anger...he had hoped never to feel that kind of anger again, the kind that could take him back to a dark place, a dark moment in what he otherwise considered a life well lived.

Valeris. He could still feel her trying to get away from him as he pulled her closer, forcing the meld deeper and deeper. He could still hear the broken sob that had rung in his mind and on the silent bridge when he had finally pulled away and let her go. He had walked away from her, seemingly unconcerned at the state she was in, the state he had put her in. But why should he have been concerned? She had been a traitor. She'd had information that Jim and the Federation had needed; he had been the only one that could get it. It had been part of the mission, nothing more. Only it hadn't been part of the mission to tear through her mind the way he had. He knew...had always known that he had been punishing her for far more than her political betrayal. He had wanted to hurt her, had wanted to hurt her badly.

He had loved her. And he had believed she had felt the same. Love. Love and pride--he had been so proud of her. The first Vulcan to graduate at the top of her class, and she had been his protege. Pride had indeed preceded the fall. The betrayal had cut too deep, personally and professionally. His rage had nearly overwhelmed him and there had been a moment during their meld when he had held her sanity in his grasp, an instant when, if he had just exerted a bit more pressure, he would have destroyed her.

He had thought that it was a line he had not crossed. But Saavik had told him that Valeris had gone mad in prison and he had wondered ever since if he had perhaps not pulled back fast enough. If he had squeezed just a little too hard and a little too long in his zeal to extract the names of her coconspirators no matter what the price. In his need to hurt her the way she had hurt him.

He saw Admiral Young and forced his thoughts back to the present. Valeris might as well be dead. Her brilliant young mind was gone, lost at some point during her captivity. She was never coming back. He pushed all thoughts of her away and nodded pleasantly to the Young. "I trust you slept well, Admiral?"

She smiled wryly. "And woke up in the right universe. I consider that a plus, Spock."

"Indeed, Admiral. A welcome turn of events." At her smile he said, "You mentioned that you had made your decision on a replacement for Commander Troi."

She grimaced. "Hated losing that one, even if it was to a great cause. What a coup getting our own man appointed Taillte's ambassador. But it is a loss to this ship and I wanted to get you someone just as capable--perhaps even more promising--to replace Andrew." She followed Spock to the transporter pad. "Have you met Commander Cassidy?"

"Susan Cassidy? I have heard of her. She is the youngest commander in the Fleet, is she not?"

Young nodded. "And one of the most capable officers I've ever met. She doesn't know I'm assigning her to you yet. Didn't want to distract her from organizing this shindig we'll soon be snoring at. I'll tell her as soon as the signing ceremony is done." Young shot him a look. "I assume you don't have a problem with her being assigned to you?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary, I am honored to have her join us."

Young nodded. "Figured you'd feel that way, Spock. You're a good man." She shot him another glance. "Unsolved murders notwithstanding. I'm still not sure how you managed to get one of your section chiefs killed during orbit around the most peaceful planet in the Federation?"

"It was not planned, Admiral." He barely kept the irritation out of his voice. Young liked to tease him the way McCoy used to do. Normally, he did not mind, but his frame of mind was not conducive to the dig.

"I'm sure it wasn't. If it had been, you'd have done a better job of covering it up." At his look, she huffed in amusement. "Oh, don't look so offended, Spock. How long have we known each other? I'm just trying to lighten you up for the ceremonies. You look like your best friend just died."

She was not far off, in fact it might have been preferable to lose Christine that way, he thought sourly, immediately regretting the idea. Before his thoughts could get any darker, he instructed the transporter tech to beam them down, and a moment later they materialized in a room that was a scene of controlled chaos. Beta Lambdan dignitaries and Federation and Star Fleet VIPs were talking in small groups, security officers were guarding the Federation President and his Beta Lambdan equivalent, and some functionaries bustled in last minute preparation for the ceremony that was about to start. Spock saw Captain Graumann from the Victory standing with Admiral Mangiello, nodded pleasantly to him, then to Sulu as his former shipmate materialized in another corner of the room.

Spock knew his role in the proceedings was nothing more than symbolic, and was grateful for the lack of responsibility. He followed the others onto the stage, tried to make out faces in the crowd but they all bled together. Somewhere out there, his crew was in attendance. Christine had stayed with the ship but Kerr was probably on the perimeter somewhere with the other security forces. His presence was not officially needed, but Spock doubted that he would be able to stay out of the action. What little action there was, Spock amended, as the first of several very long speeches began.

He took the opportunity to study his newest section chief as she stood just offstage. She looked even younger than she probably was, her black hair cut short in an extreme style. He thought she looked almost Vulcan with her dark eyes and high cheekbones, although her skin was too pale. She was attractive and no doubt used that to her advantage in her diplomatic ventures. She seemed to sense his eyes on her, turning slowly to scan the group on the dais, stopping when she realized it was he that was watching her. She shot him a surprised look and he nodded almost imperceptibly then turned his attention back to the speaker.

His mind again wandered, this time back to his ready room and the way it had felt to hold Christine, to kiss her even so briefly. It was an ironic fact of his life that now, when she was out of reach, he wanted her with such an overwhelming desire. Especially when he had avoided her for so many years. But want her he did and he couldn't quite make himself give up trying to win her back from Kerr. Even though the more noble part of him wanted to release her, wanted to let her be happy, another, stronger part of him, didn't want to let go. But he had to let go, and so did she. She wasn't blameless in this either. She had chosen Kerr but was unwilling to walk away from Spock in the way she needed to if she was going to make any kind of life with the colonel. The logical part of Spock knew that and hoped she would find the strength to pull away. The more emotional part of him only wanted to hold her close and never let go.

This had to change. He was obsessed with her. The only thing he knew to do was to avoid her and hope that time away would make him stronger, more able to resist the lure of her, the call of the strange bond between them. Time. Time would move slowly and he would have to let it, would have to live with the pain. And it was pain. It hurt him just as Jim's death still hurt and his mother's death as well. There were days he felt as if the pain was overwhelming him. Days he wished he had never felt V'Ger's call, had never abandoned the Kohlinar training. These emotions that he had not purged were drawing him into a black place, a place even he recognized wasn't healthy.

He was fortunate that there was the mission, the ability the Carter gave him to make a difference. And he had the burgeoning relationship with Pardek to give him hope that someday his dream of reunification might be within reach. And he had been thinking often of the Klingons, wondering how the Empire fared under Azetbur. He knew that he and the others who had believed in peace had already accomplished much, but he could not help but feel that it was possible for the Klingon Empire and the Federation to deepen ties even more.

A rush of applause brought him back to the ceremony and he clapped for a speech he had not heard at all. He followed the others off the stage for the final step of the ceremony, which would take place in the room they had materialized in. The Beta Lambdan Prime Minister and the Federation President signed the membership agreement, pressing their thumbs against the padds and sealing the moment in history. As the two men shook hands, Spock walked over to where Sulu stood by himself. "Captain Sulu, it is good to see you again."

"A pleasure, Captain," Sulu said with the friendly grin that Spock remembered from all those years on the Enterprise. Sulu turned back to the ceremony as the President made a joke. His laughter was subdued but sincere.

Both men clapped as the Beta Lambdan Prime Minister presented the President with a small yellow flower that grew all over the planet and signified good luck and long life according to local custom. Then the two men, flanked by their respective security contingents, left together for the reception.

Spock turned back to Sulu. "I presume you will be opening up Excelsior for tours for the Beta Lambdan VIPS?"

"Part of the service. And any of the Carter people are more than welcome. There's more than one person aboard with ties to my crew. Our engineers for one."

Spock nodded, considering what Kettering had told him about his ex-wife. Kettering and Charlene Masters did not seem like a particularly well matched pair, which, he surmised, might explain why they had divorced twice. But Kettering still spoke of her with fondness, and Spock knew she was as good an engineer--if not better--than his friend. He also knew she was a good friend of Sulu. He nodded, saying to Sulu, "And of course, your crew is welcome to beam over to the Carter. I know that Commander Kettering isn't the only one that is looking forward to renewing old ties. Chr--Commander Chapel seemed eager to see Commander Rand again." He hoped Sulu hadn't caught his lapse into informality.

But the other captain seemed preoccupied. "We've had some difficult missions lately. I know my crew will welcome the respite. I know I do."

Spock did not know any of the details of Excelsior's missions, but knew that even the smallest thing could wear on the person who had the ultimate responsibility for the well being of the ship and crew. He said softly, "And the price of being captain is to feel every one of those difficulties personally. Even for a Vulcan, it can be wearing."

But that didn't seem to be what Sulu meant. He frowned as he said, "We've been having some odd problems. Miscommunications with Command. I don't suppose you've had anything like that?"

Spock felt suddenly wary. "What kind of miscommunications?"

"Things like our having classified a planet as having proto-sentients only to find it opened for colonization. Or getting orders that found us too late to make a difference in a tense situation. I know that the definition of starship duty is to expect the unexpected but it's been unusual enough to disturb my security officer, who is now looking to see if he can find any such pattern in fleet reports."

Spock considered how much to say to Sulu. He pitched his voice lower. "We have also had some trouble with our planetary classifications being garbled by the time they got to Command." He checked to make sure that Graumann and the others were out of range. "Does your security officer have a theory on this?"

"Not what I'd call a theory. The way he put it, the incidents aboard Excelsior are more than can be ascribed to coincidence but not enough to make a pattern. He's looking at reports from other ships and asked me if I could talk to my fellow captains. And we've all heard what happened to Commander Farrell. A murder is a very unusual occurrence on a Starship."

Spock again found himself on the defensive. "Yes, that was most unexpected, and unfortunately happened at a time when there were too many strangers aboard the ship to identify the murderer. But my head of security has conducted a full investigation and found nothing. And I have the utmost confidence in Colonel Kerr."

"While I'll admit my head of security is rather young. Not unseasoned and certainly very able, but I do wonder if he's seeing what's not there out of overzealousness. So you don't think we should make anything of this?"

Spock felt himself torn. He wanted to help a man that he considered a friend, but did not want to bring up things that Sulu might know nothing about. Might be safer knowing nothing about. "There are coincidences that are accidents of fate and others that are pointers to something going on in the background. In science or in life, the difficult part is identifying exactly which type of coincidence you are dealing with."

"That's not really an answer, Spock." Sulu shot him a look that bordered on annoyance. "Which knowing you as I do, does pique my curiosity."

"I did not mean to hedge. I know only that there are some mysteries that can never be solved. One has to file them in a special section of the logs and move on." He kept his expression perfectly neutral as he waited to see if Sulu would bite at the miniscule clue he had just put out for him.

Sulu did not take the bait. "If this is a mystery, not a set of coincidences, I don't see that as much of a solution. And since when have you ever filed away a mystery as impossible to solve without even trying? Besides, I'm not convinced this is over and ready to be filed away." His tone softened as he added, "At least, my security officer isn't."

"I did not say we had not tried to solve our mysteries. But the trail does go cold. If you feel that you have cause to continue the investigation, then by all means let your security officer do his job." He saw Cassidy break away from Admiral Young and head toward them. He assumed Young had just told her of her next assignment. "I believe we should table this discussion." He nodded toward the woman and Sulu turned to see who was approaching.

"Captains," she said. "Thank you for agreeing to help out with these ceremonies. Having two of the Fleet's most modern ships in orbit is quite a coup for me." Her tone was engaging, lacking any note of boasting. She sounded sincerely grateful for their help, and Spock presumed that sincerity had helped propel her to where she was in the ranks. She smiled and it was a warm smile, full of confidence. "I'm Commander Susan Cassidy, officer in charge of this event."

"A pleasure, Commander. I am Captain Spock.

Her smile was more informal as she said quickly, "Like I wouldn't know a living legend when I saw him. I've studied your diplomatic treatises as a hobby. They've helped me immeasurably in my own work." She turned to Sulu. "And Captain Sulu. Thank you so much for coming. It's an honor to have you here."

Sulu smiled. "My pleasure. From everything I've seen, you've done a great job. Outstanding."

She inclined her head, and the movement struck Spock as very Vulcan. "Most kind, sir." Then she grinned. "The first minister is very excited about the tour of your ships. I appreciate your willingness to entertain the disruption."

"I don't see it as a disruption. Just part of our job."

She laughed. "I also appreciate that attitude. It's not always what I get when I need help on one of these events."

"I can imagine. But after three years of studying gaseous anomalies you can be sure my crew welcomes the change."

"I can relate to that. I'm ready for a change myself." She shot Spock a suddenly shy glance. "I've been given to understand that perhaps a berth is open on the Carter?"

Spock said, "If you are interested?"

Her smile became more brilliant. "If I'm interested? In serving on the first diplomatic ship in the fleet? I'd be crazy not to be. Tell me more. Admiral Young only teased me with the barest of details."

Sulu smiled at both of them, "You have a lot to discuss. If you'll excuse me, Captain, Commander?"

Cassidy said, "Of course, Captain."

Spock nodded to his colleague, then turned back to her. "I assume your enthusiasm would indicate acceptance?"

"You assume right, sir." She gestured toward the door. "Perhaps you could tell me about the position while we walk over to the reception?"

He found her eagerness compelling. And not unlike another young woman's enthusiasm. He could feel himself pulling away and forced himself not to. This woman was not Valeris, for all the small similarities he kept seeing between them. She deserved her own chance.

She was studying him, her smile fading. "Did I do something wrong, Captain?"

His voice was very gentle as he shook his head. "Not at all, Commander. You must forgive me, it has been a difficult few months. I am not at my best." The admission was unusual for a Vulcan and he could see by her expression that she recognized that. He added, "I am pleased you will be joining us, Commander."

"Not as pleased as I am, Captain." Her grin was threatening again. "Now...please...tell me about the position?"

He could feel something in him responding to her interest and lightness. His earlier dark mood started to ease and he had no difficulty indulging her curiosity about her new position on the short walk to the reception hall.

-------------------

Tuvok had not wanted to come to the reception but his immediate supervisor, Stennix, had made it clear it was not optional. No more optional than having to check over the science officer's data and footnotes on the article for the "New Journal of Scientific Exploration" or finishing the monthly departmental report. Not that he was alone in that. Valtane also shared the work, but in regard to the extra tasks Stennix placed on them both, Valtane saw it as an opportunity to learn. Not a perspective Tuvok shared as he found the work tedious as well as being beyond the scope of their duties. As for the social obligation, Tuvok thought looking across the room to where Valtane had abandoned him to flirt with a human female, it was obvious this was not something Valtane found onerous. So absorbed was he in his thoughts, he was startled to hear a voice beside him.

"The secret of these functions is to appear to be at ease, Ensign. May I suggest that standing by the punchbowl, looking as if you are classifying your fellow celebrants as lower life-forms is not the way to do that."

Tuvok was taken aback that the sourness of his thoughts were visible on his face. "I beg pardon, Captain Spock, I was not aware I was expressing such an emotion. I find it hard to navigate my way through these human rituals and look like I am having 'fun.'"

"No one expects you to have fun, Mister Tuvok. You are, after all, Vulcan. In fact, the majority of your human colleagues will expect you to not enjoy such social interactions. But there is a difference, subtle though it may be, between not enjoying the event and appearing superior. It is a fine distinction, one that I too have struggled with for years."

Tuvok thought that feeling superior was far from his thoughts and a rather presumptuous assumption. But it occurred to him that here was a man that must have struggled through many of his questions and concerns. "Has it been worth it? The struggle to fit in with humans, non-Vulcans?" He was slightly appalled at the wistfulness in his own voice.

Curiously, Spock's expression darkened for a moment as if remembering the times it hadn't been worth it, then lightened a bit. "Yes, Ensign, it has been worth it. For every trial and difficulty there are moments of immense satisfaction. And you will find that humans are quite exceptional if you give them the chance to be."

Asking whether humans were worth it was not really what he had meant. But whether the struggle was. He feared that by the end of his Starfleet service, without other Vulcans around to remind him, he'd give ground until all his work to stay on Surak's path would