Lauren awoke suddenly, her mind full of a noisy, confused dream. With a shock she remembered where she was, and sat up. Spock had moved. She found him on his feet, huddled in the blanket, groping along the cave wall like a trapped beast. The dying flames of the fire cast eerie shadows.

"Captain," she said, forcing her voice to sound steady and controlled.

The Vulcan did not respond.

"Captain, it's Doctor Fielding. I'm here with you."

His right hand fumbled over the stone with a mindless urgency that was frightening. Lauren slowly rose and moved up beside him. What if he attacked her?

Quietly she said, "You're not alone here. It's going to get better. You'll make it because that daughter of yours is depending on you. Believe me, she'll need someone on her side when we all get back to the Enterprise."

Her words seemed to have no effect. For a moment longer Lauren watched him dig his fingernails into cracks. Then she pulled on the rain slicker, tucked the phaser into her beltline, and left with the flashlight to gather more wood. Outside, an icy gale almost knocked her to the ground. Rain lashed her face as she gathered the nearest windfalls and ran for shelter, the beam of her flashlight bobbing.

As she entered the cavern something seized her. Gasping, she dropped the wood. Her flashlight clattered to the ground, but cast enough of a glow for her to see Spock was holding her. Soberly she faced the threat of violence in his dark eyes.

"Where is it!" he demanded.

Should she just hand the strardus over? And when that last bit was gone? What then? Maybe this time he would kill her. With his drug-driven strength, he could have his way so easily. She closed her eyes, trembling as his powerful hand settled over her throat. A roar of blood and thunder filled her ears…

ooooo

Slowly T'Beth rose from a dark, troubled dream into the refuge of a warm embrace. "Father?" she mumbled, still half asleep.

"No, lass," came a soft reply, "only me."

The engineer's voice brought her fully awake and she pulled away from him. How could she have imagined it was Spock holding her, how could she have forgotten her hurt even for a second? "I'm not going back," she announced in the darkness.

Scott yawned. "Ye belong with your father. Spock will be worried, lass, an' he's still not a well man."

"I don't care! Why should I? He doesn't care anything about me."

"That I doubt," Scott said. "I don't know what happened between the two of ye, but runnin' away only makes things worse. Ye'll have a lot to answer for when ye get back—an' ye are goin' back, I'll see to it."

"Never!" T'Beth vowed angrily. She scrambled toward the opening, but Scott caught hold of her arm and unceremoniously yanked her down beside him.

"Enough o' that!" he warned. "Listen here, lass. I'm tired, hungry, and my every bone aches from this miserable hole in the ground. It wouldna take much at all to set off my temper. Just a wee bit more of your sass, or another move like that one, an' I'm likely to give ye more than a piece of my mind—captain's daughter or not."

T'Beth subsided into a resentful silence. It was no use provoking the old Scotsman. Sooner or later he would let down his guard and give her a chance to escape.

ooooo

A dull, rhythmic thumping brought Lauren to her senses. She opened her eyes. Pinpoints of light danced on the ceiling of the cave. The right side of her body was bathed in a wonderful dry heat.

The fire's burning brighter, she realized. Spock put on the wood and moved me here. I must only have fainted. He didn't hurt me, after all…

With the thought came a fierce rush of relief that shifted all her concern to the captain. Spock lay face down on the other side of the fire, head cradled in the curve of an arm. The thumping sound came from a bloodied fist as it pounded the cavern floor.

Quietly Lauren sat up and found her medkit lying open on the ground, its contents strewn. With a sinking feeling she checked the sprayhypo. Its ampule of strardus was drained.

"Great," she said under her breath. Spock had helped himself to the last of the drug. The most she could give him now was a sedative or endorphine stimulator, both next to worthless against this hellish kind of withdrawal.

Lauren resisted a surge of fear. Come on, think positive. Survival, that's all that matters now. We have food from the landing pack, and water. I have the phaser, too. Somehow we'll make it until Kirk finds us. We'll both make it.

But her hands shook as she put the medical supplies back into her kit and went to her patient's side. "This is the worst of it," she promised him, knowing it was probably untrue. "Captain, you're going to get better now. You're going to come out of this and come out of it clean. Do you hear me?"

Was he listening? Lauren swallowed against an ache in her throat. "I'm so sorry," she choked out. "Starting you on that stuff was the worst thing I've ever done. But what other choice was there? It saved your life." Fighting back tears, she gently placed her hand on his back. "Captain?" she whispered.

He was asleep.

ooooo

T'Beth had not meant to drift off again, especially with Mister Scott clasping her, but over time his body heat had lulled her back to sleep. Annoyed with herself, she lay tense and still in Scott's arms. A hint of dawn outlined the opening of the hole. Judging from the sound of things outside, the storm had calmed down quite a bit. And from all the snorting and rumbling inside, Scott was oblivious to the weather and everything else.

It was time to move on. Hardly daring to breathe, T'Beth inched her way free of the limp arms encircling her. The bed of damp leaves made little sound as she sat up, heart pounding, and looked at the engineer's ghostly shape. He snored harmlessly.

Smiling now, she edged toward the morning light, and freedom. A light breeze spattered her face with drizzle as she poked her head out the hole. It felt colder outside, but unbelievably good. Slowly and carefully she crawled out until only her shoes were in the opening.

Bye bye, Scotty, she thought, happily climbing to her feet. So much for you and your lame threats…

That was when the hands clasped her ankles and dragged her back into the hole.

ooooo

Spock awoke in a cold panic. Remaining as still as possible, he tried to make sense of his primitive surroundings and his own abject misery. There was a sharp aching hollowness, as if he had been gutted and left here to die. Curled up on his side, shivering under a blanket, he tried to sort through the chaos in his mind.

His eyes were drawn to a fire burning beside him. Little by the little the warm, writhing flames helped his thoughts slow down. Like a meditation lamp. But where was he? It was too cold, too damp, to be anywhere on Vulcan.

A slow, subtle awareness came over him and he knew that he was not alone. His muscles tensed harder. Then, as if to verify its presence, something touched his shoulder. Recoiling, he rolled over and found a human female wearing a Starfleet uniform.

Doctor Lauren Fielding stared at him, her blue eyes wary, her face smudged. Unruly tendrils of blonde hair had escaped her braid.

She said, "The storm's easing," and picked up a container from the ground. "Here, Captain. Have a drink of water."

Captain. The pounding of his heart subsided. Spock rose shakily onto his elbow and took a swallow, but he was too nauseous to drink more.

"That's alright," Fielding said. "You can take another sip later."

He lay back and watched her handle a medscanner that failed to operate. Clouded memories flowed fitfully, something about solar activity and ionization and the urgent need to find someone.

He said, "There is a person missing."

Studying his face she said, "You were missing…but I found you." The doctor reached down and briefly fingered his cheek with cool fingers. "You've warmed up. How are you feeling?"

Not like a Vulcan, Spock thought bitterly. Fresh waves of pain broke over him and he was shuddering again, torn by the nerve-wrenching hunger he had come to know well, and hated with every fiber of his being. At the end of his endurance, he gasped, "I can't take this any longer!"

A single tear spilled down Fielding's cheek and she said, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait. There is no more. Once we get back aboard ship…"

"No!" he shouted, annoyed that she did not understand. "I cannot live like this any longer! I don't want any more of it! Never again!"

ooooo

Overwhelmed with emotion, Lauren stood at the cave entrance, waiting for daylight. She scarcely felt the morning chill. Little by little the drenched landscape brightened until she could see all the way across the valley. Native birds rose from their perches, chattering and soaring through the air.

A new day…and he doesn't want any more strardus! Never again!

Her joy was so intense that she felt certain Mister Scott and T'Beth were also safe and well. Moving a short distance from the cave, she cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted their names.

ooooo

Deaf old fool, thought T'Beth. Sitting under a tree, she could distinctly hear a woman calling them, yet Scotty took no notice of it as he fiddled with the controls on a communicator. Humans had such poor hearing, and she was glad of it. The last thing she needed around here was another of Starfleet's finest. She was having a hard enough time with the ill-tempered engineer.

Seething, she tugged and chewed at the cord binding her wrists. "Who do you think you are," she complained, "tying me to a tree like an animal. I wasn't running away, why don't you believe me? I just needed to stretch my legs." And I stretched them real good kicking at you, didn't I?

Mister Scott ignored her.

The knots were too tight. They made her wrists hurt when she struggled, but she kept at it anyway. If people were calling for them, they would probably be out searching, too.

"Ye may as well save yere strength," Scott said tartly, putting aside the communicator.

T'Beth continued working on the knots while he gathered dead wood into a soggy pile and used his phaser to get it burning. Moving stiffly, he came over and watched her efforts. "Lass," he said, "do ye want them a wee bit tighter? Is that it?"

She stopped and glared at him. The woman wasn't calling anymore. Now if she could only get free of Scott. Boldly meeting his gaze she said, "Oh, go ahead! Cut off all the blood from my hands! Let them turn black and fall off, so they'll haul you in for child abuse!"

"Child abuse!" Scott's face darkened dangerously. "Child abuse, is it? Get off yere backside, ye little hellion, an' I'll show ye some abuse!"

Perhaps, T'Beth considered, she had pushed the man too far. Lowering her head, she coaxed a few tears into her eyes and made her bottom lip quiver. Scott growled one of his Gaelic oaths and started to turn away.

Something chirped.

Oh, let it be a bird, T'Beth prayed, but the communicator was already in Scott's hands and he was talking through a great big smile.

"Aye, Admiral. The girl is right here with me. Do ye suppose ye could bring us aboard?"

"Hurry up and pack," answered Kirk's voice.

T'Beth tugged frantically at the cord. It held tight. Genuine tears welled in her eyes and she began to cry. "Please," she begged, "please, Mister Scott, untie me first. Don't make me go back like this."

It was her last chance to get away and Scott knew it. After throwing together the landing kit, he paused to look at her, communicator ready in his hand. "So it's 'Mister Scott' now, is it?"

"Please," she begged.

His eyes hard on her, he spoke into the communicator, "Two to beam up."

ooooo

Montgomery Scott and Lauren Fielding had been sent to their quarters to rest. Spock remained in sickbay, under treatment. After consulting with Doctor Fielding, McCoy had agreed to carry forward the detoxification process that began on the planet. That left one final matter for McCoy to settle.

Seated in his office, T'Beth sullenly looked on as he personally signed her clean bill of health. There was no reason to keep her in sickbay. A guard waited outside, ready to escort her to the cabin she shared with Uhura, and see that she stayed there. Admiral Kirk's orders—and no, McCoy had not fought Jim on that one, even though he felt plenty guilty himself. It was at his urging that T'Beth had gone off to her father. It was his scheme that had backfired and put four lives at risk. He never should have interfered, yet here he was, about to shoot off his mouth again. But how else would this mess ever get straightened out?

McCoy could not forget T'Beth's stricken look when she saw her father hurried into sickbay on a grav-stretcher. That single moment, however brief, proved how much she really cared about Spock. If she could just be made to understand him a little better, that caring might evolve into a decent father-daughter relationship.

He looked at the child perched stiffly, almost Spock-like, beside his desk. And he figured, she probably blames me, too. And why not? I sent her to beard the lion, and she got bit. Now it was up to him to bind her wounds.

He said, "You did a very foolish thing when you used that transporter. It was because of the talk with your father, wasn't it?"

T'Beth was silent.

"He told you something that upset you."

Ignoring him, she gazed at the fingers curled in her lap. She was giving him the treatment, and after enjoying her affection for so long, it stung. "Look, I know Spock. He wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt you. Why, when he found out that you'd beamed down, he risked his life to go after you."

T'Beth gave him a cold look. "So did Mister Scott with his rope."

It was all over the ship. Everyone was laughing about Scotty bringing T'Beth home on a leash. McCoy worked to keep a straight face. "I'm not so sure I wouldn't have tied you up myself, the way you were acting. And yes, Mister Scott did risk his life, but not in the same way your father did. You see—" Here he would have to be careful. "You see, during his illness on Gamma Vertas IV, Spock's body came to depend on a medication that helped him recover. If this medicine were taken away suddenly, he would get very sick, and could even die. It was almost time for his next injection when he beamed down after you. He knew what that would mean, but he went anyway."

"Sure," she said with sarcasm. "The special medicine that you can't get on Vulcan. He had to stay here and recover."

McCoy felt like giving her a good shake. "That's right. He had to stay aboard ship. His medicine isn't even legal on Vulcan. Do you think I'm making it up?"

Her eyes flashed. "If it's so special, then what is it?"

"That's none of your damn business." She had riled him, but the hastily spoken words made T'Beth sit up and take notice. McCoy had never been short with her before.

"You're mad at me," she said as if it truly mattered to her.

With a sigh McCoy stood and came around the desk so there was nothing standing between them. "T'Beth, you've got to start believing the people who care about you. You've got to start trusting."

"You really mean my father, don't you?" Her voice choked up. "How can I trust someone who's never around when you need him? What good is someone like that?"

This wasn't going well. Sitting on the desktop, McCoy tried again. "Something upset you enough to make you beam down. What was it? I feel responsible, I sent you in there."

"No," she said, "he's responsible, not you. You weren't even there when he ran out on me."

"You mean when you were a baby? For your information, young lady, I treated your mother when she was very pregnant and very ill and driving your father half crazy with worry. As a matter of fact, I diagnosed the case."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Did Spock tell you anything about her?

"He didn't have to. I found her diary a long time ago, and he knows that. I showed it to him."

Adrianna's diary! McCoy drew a deep breath, determined to find out how much the child really knew. "In this diary of hers, have you ever come across the word…'Sy-jeera'?"

T'Beth shook her head. "Is that in the Sy language? Father said she was half Sydok."

"That's right," McCoy said. "But she was something more, too. She was also a Sy-jeera."

T'Beth gazed at him expectantly. It was too late to back down now—she would only look up the word on her own and find a whole pile of unsavory legends. With his heart hammering away, McCoy plunged ahead. "Okay. Listen carefully now, because this is an adult matter, but you really need to understand it. And because if I screw this up, your father will throw me to the snarths."

T'Beth almost smiled.

McCoy tried smiling, too, but it ended up more like a nervous twitch, and he felt his face start to redden. "Alright, so there's this natural attraction between men and women. You know about that. Of course you do. Well, a Sy-jeera has this ability, you see, to make herself irresistible to any man who catches her eye."

T'Beth just stared at him.

"That's why your father forgot all about Vulcan discipline when Adrianna came along. He…caught your mother's eye, and…well…love bloomed." He was having plenty of second thoughts, but it was too late to stop. "Okay, so far so good. The only trouble with all this was that Spock didn't understand what was happening. Maybe Adrianna didn't understand, either. I don't know, but after she died her mother went a little crazy. And now we come down to the reason Spock left you." McCoy drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Justrelle blamed him for your mother's death. She wanted to hurt him so badly that he'd leave you with her and never come around again. So she threw this Sy-jeera business in his face. She tried to shame him, to make it sound like Adrianna had only been out to use him, that she never really cared about him at all. And your grandmother also said something else…"

Leaning forward in her chair, T'Beth asked, "What? What did she say?"

"To make doubly sure that Spock stayed away from you, she told him you'd grow up to be a Sy-jeera, too. That you'd grow up to deliberately hurt and manipulate people just like she claimed your mother did."

T'Beth went pale. In a shaken voice, she said, "Is it true? Am I going to be that way?"

McCoy held out an arm to her. "Sweetheart, come sit here beside me." He could feel her trembling when she joined him on the desk. "Don't worry, you're not going to be that way, and your mother wasn't that way, either. Remember, I met Adrianna. I saw how much she loved Spock. It was a good honest love, not something ugly like your grandmother made it out to be. Lord," he sighed, this is hard. I know Justrelle raised you. I don't want to anything bad about her, but the fact is, she was a bitter, unreasonable woman when it came to Spock. Her lies kept you two apart for eleven years."

After a moment T'Beth said, "Mother talked a lot about Father in her diary. She did love him. And I could never understand how the man she described could just up and leave me after she died."

"Yeah, well, it's not the kind of thing you'd expect Spock to do. But as you've noticed, Vulcans take a lot of pride in their emotional restraint. That's why Justrelle could hurt Spock so deeply. She made him feel weak, uncontrolled, foolish. And all of his feelings for you became mixed up in that. It's taken him a long time to sort things out."

The child made no sound beside him.

"I know, it's a lot to absorb all at once," McCoy said. "I want you to take your time and think about everything I've told you, okay? And get some rest."

He could only hope that he had done the right thing.

ooooo

"Think", McCoy had told her. As if she could do anything else, even after Uhura came off duty and tried hard to cheer her up. Dark, tangled thoughts followed T'Beth through dinner, into the somber hours of the night, and finally into her dreams.

Late next morning she awoke to find Uhura gone. Light shone from the open bathroom door. The cabin was very still. For a while T'Beth lay alone, feeling forgotten and discouraged. Oh, why did everyone she cared about have to get sick and die? First her mother. Then Mama Justrelle. And now Spock was sick again, and this time it was all her fault. She had even wished him dead. But she didn't want him to die, not anymore. She wasn't sure if she had ever really meant it. She only knew that her need for his love was an ache inside her.

Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the calming Vulcan mind rules she was learning on Vulcan, but her restless thoughts drew her into an impossible daydream. The doorchime sounds. The door slides open and there he is, tall and strong and healthy, promising to take care of her, promising that he'd never, ever leave her again, no matter what she did…or became. Saying the words she needed to hear, the words he had never spoken. "T'Beth, I love you."

The fantasy was shattered by a real doorchime. Startled, T'Beth sat up in bed and said, "Come in."

A man strode into the dimly lit cabin. Admiral Kirk glanced about and quickly found what he was after. T'Beth went sick with dread as he came to her cot and glared down at her. His eyes no longer held that later for you look that she'd seen yesterday in sickbay. Now they were telling her this is it, kid.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he said. "Or do you even bother to think?"

T'Beth tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. "My father…" she asked in a shaky voice, "is he…alright?"

"As well as can be expected," Kirk snapped.

"I…I didn't know he would follow me," she stammered. "I didn't know he would get so sick."

"So that gave you the right to pull a dumb stunt like this? And for what? What did you accomplish?"

It seemed a little unfair, coming from Jim Kirk. T'Beth had heard a story or two about his youthful escapades, but she knew better than to mention that. She stared silently down at the bedcovers.

Kirk let out a sigh of exasperation. "One of these days you're going to start thinking about someone besides yourself. I only hope we all survive until then."

He loomed over her a moment longer, then walked toward the door. Just before leaving he turned to her and said, "Your father's asking for you. If you think you can mind your manner, get some clothes on and the guard will take you over to sickbay."

A faint smell of men's cologne lingered after the door slid shut.

ooooo

At sickbay, Doctor McCoy drew T'Beth aside before she could enter her father's room. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept well, either.

"I probably said told you too much," he confided in a low voice. "Believe it or not, I like to think that your father is my friend. He trusted me to keep my mouth shut on certain subjects."

"Don't worry," T'Beth said, "I won't tell on you."

McCoy smiled wearily and shook his head. "I'm not asking you to do that. There've been way too many secrets around here—that's the whole trouble. If Spock comes after me, so be it. I just want to know that you're okay, that what I said didn't mess things up worse than they were before."

Slipping her arms around the doctor, T'Beth hugged him hard and said, "You're never afraid to tell anyone the truth, are you?"

He grimaced. "I do shoot off my mouth quite a bit."

T'Beth smiled and passed through the door quickly, before she lost her nerve. The air inside the treatment room was as hot and dry as Vulcan. Her attention went to the bed monitor with its dancing readouts, before turning to the blanket-covered patient resting between the bed rails. Father seemed to be asleep. Tiptoeing closer, she stared in disbelief. Sprawled belly-down on the mattress, he lay like a human, hugging his pillow with one arm. She had never seen him sleep before and wondered if he always lay this way, not stiff and composed as she had imagined. Or was this only because he was sick…

Gathering her courage, she gave his arm a timid shake where it clutched the pillow. "Father," she said. "Father…"

He opened his eyes and looked at her before rolling onto back. He cleared his throat. "T'Beth."

"Are you feeling better?" she managed to ask.

"Yes," he answered, but he did not sound like he felt very good at all.

For a moment they just stared at each other. Father's brown eyes seemed to penetrate inside her and see everything, but maybe that was just her guilty conscience. Finally she said, "You got pretty sick down there without your medicine. It…it was all my fault. I didn't mean for anything like this to happen."

Father drew in a slow, shuddering breath and began to cough. It was a while before he could talk again. "You cannot be blamed it I showed faulty judgment in beaming down."

"Faulty judgment?" T'Beth barely got the words out. Here she was trying to apologize, and this is what she gets? A sick feeling of disappointment came over her, and a return of the old recklessness. "So then you shouldn't have gone after me, right? That's what you're saying. It was all just a mistake, your beaming down. A stupid, idiotic

mis—"

"Cristabeth!" Spock's tone stopped her cold. "However I may have wronged you in the past, for now I am still your father and such demand your respect."

T'Beth felt herself withering under the reprimand. Vulcans were funny about names. There were clan names and pledge names and gift names and names too personal even to be spoken aloud. Now Father had used her before name instead of the new Vulcan name he had given her. Trying hard not to cry, she stared down at the floor. Would things ever be good between them?

His fingers touched her wrist, lightly tracing the chafe marks left by Mister Scott's rope. It didn't hurt, but tears spilled out and ran down her cheeks.

In a sad, tired voice he said, "You misunderstand." His hand left her and settled back limply on the bed. "But I am afraid that our difficulties have grown far beyond any mere problem of communication. This kind of turmoil does neither of us any good, and is seriously impeding your development." He paused. "There is not need to review all the unpleasant facts. Let us just say that I am not a suitable parent for you."

T'Beth tried to speak, but her throat was too tight.

"In view of this I see no reason to perpetuate such a damaging relationship, when there is an alternative." He looked away. "I am considering…shul var. Divorce."

Confused, T'Beth wiped her eyes and faced him. "But…but you aren't married. Are you?"

His mouth stiffened and he continued gazing at the wall. "Shul var is the severing of bloodline—the divorce of offspring." He did not wait for her reaction. "If you are content living with Sarek and Amanda on Vulcan, we could conceivably carrying the arrangement one stop further. For the sake of harmony you could end life as my daughter…and live on as my sister, instead." Almost in a whisper he added, "Perhaps then you would find some peace."

Deep in shock, T'Beth heard an inner voice crowing jubilantly. There he goes again, trying to get rid of me! McCoy was wrong! Father doesn't care about anyone but Kirk! He's so mean and selfish, no wonder Mama hated him!

Then he turned his head and looked at her.

As their eyes met, a father's bitter pain washed over T'Beth, silencing the voice. And in that moment she saw the truth. He was not seeking his own welfare, but hers. What had he said? I am not a suitable parent for you. He thought he was a failure. She had thought so, too. But now…

Numbly, she shook her head. "No. I don't want to be your sister." He went stony. He thought she was rejecting him even as a brother. But she refused to accept yet another misunderstanding and said, "I'm your daughter, don't you see? You're my father. We can't be anything else. We can't just give up on each other."

Taking down the bedrail, she put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing reassured her, and before long she felt a warm, comforting hand settle on her back. Thickly she said, "I want to trust you, I really do."

He started coughing again and the door opened. Doctor Chapel came in and activated a bluish field over the bed. Pulling the bedrail back in place, she gave T'Beth a fond, sympathetic look. "I'm afraid visiting hours are over now. Your father needs to rest."

T'Beth wanted to ask if he was going to be alright, but she was too afraid of what Christine might tell her. Mama had coughed a lot before she died. Now Father had stopped coughing, but he was shivering hard. Looking deep into his eyes, she said, "Promise me you'll get well."

With the tiniest hint of a smile, he said, "I am better already."

ooooo

The air movement chilled Spock's scalp as he strode through the ship's corridors to the briefing room. He had been swimming when the summons came, taking time between trainee classes to exercise and build strength. There had been only a moment to don his uniform and give his hair a quick, damp combing before appearing for medical review.

Of course, this was only a formality. The last review had found him unfit for command and there was no reason to believe that the conclusion of this review would be any different. He was well acquainted with his own weaknesses: the continued loss of some Vulcan functions, the general lack of stamina, the insidious hunger for strardus that occasionally stirred in him before he turned his mind elsewhere. All through yesterday's physical and mental examinations he had prepared himself for a negative outcome. Still, he felt nervous when he entered the room and so many eyes settled on him. He had expected Admiral Kirk and the doctors: McCoy, Chapel, and Fielding; but First Officer Sulu was there, as well. They were all seated around the table, waiting for him.

He, too, sat down.

Kirk gave his wet hair an amused look, and began. "We all have things to do, so let's make this as brief as possible." He nodded to McCoy. "Doctor?"

McCoy shifted in his chair and looked down at a printout sheet in front of him. His face underwent several curious changes of expression. "Well," he drawled at last, "after reviewing the latest test results, the board has no choice but to declare Captain Spock…" he paused to offer the Vulcan a lopsided smile "…fully able-bodied and fit for command!"

Spock stared at him, certain there had been an error.

"Let the log so read," Kirk concluded. "At this stardate, 1310 hours, command of the U.S.S. Enterprise returned in full to Captain Spock."

After a short burst of applause, people started to leave their seats. Still not quite believing, Spock rose to accept their congratulations. It wasn't until Sulu shook his hand said "Welcome back, sir," that the sense of unreality finally gave way.

"Thank you, Hikaru," Spock managed to say. Then, in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone, "I would like to thank all of you for your patience, loyalty, and continuing friendship during these difficult months."

Kirk came up, smiling, and touched his arm on the way by. "Nice," he said in a low voice. "Very nice, Spock. I only hope you're as appreciative when you see all the paperwork I saved for you."

McCoy and Chapel were next. The Chief Surgeon handed him the test results and grumbled, "I thought I'd never get you out of my sickbay." Chapel smiled at Spock without saying anything, without really needing to, then started after McCoy. At the doorway she paused to look at the only person who had hung back. "Doctor Fielding," she said in a cool voice, "are you coming?"

Lauren Fielding remained standing by her chair. "Go ahead, Doctor. There's something I need to discuss with the captain."

Spock took note of Chapel's displeasure before the door closed. Then he was alone with Doctor Fielding and the tension he had experienced earlier suddenly returned in force. Since his initial illness, their lives had been closely linked in one way or another. He would never forget the harm he had done her, not long ago, while in the grip of a symbiotic alien. But looking at her now, he found himself moving beyond that incident and wondering what sort of thoughts lay beneath those startling blue eyes. A hint of memory stirred, then drifted beyond reach. And he told himself, she is just one of many women aboard ship. There are others here with intelligence and physical beauty, others who are graceful and unassuming in their ways. All those others I can deal with quite calmly and objectively, but never this one. From the very beginning she has aroused my interest...

"Doctor?" he prompted, hoping to hurry along the encounter and be done with it.

Her complexion grew pink as she moved nearer and faced him more or less at attention. Plainly embarrassed, she said, "I realize, sir, that your words to the group were not intended for me. There's always been a certain…strain…evident between us. That's why I tried to stay in the background after we left Gamma Vertas IV. You didn't need the aggravation of having me around."

An aggravation? Was that how he saw her? Stumbling over his own thoughts, Spock kept silent.

She continued, "I've given the matter a lot of consideration. It's not in my nature to run out on my responsibilities, but now that you're back in command…I think we should talk about a transfer."

Spock felt an unpleasant tightening in his stomach. "You wish to transfer off the Enterprise?" He cast about for some basis to deny her, and found it. A perfectly logical reason, for he had been donating regular samples of his blood for the doctor's research. His blood alone had the necessary qualities. "What of your plakir-fee study?"

The blush deepened over her cheeks, making her hair seem lighter. Her gaze fell. "It might be the best thing…for everyone concerned. I know I make you uncomfortable. Things have been said…things have happened."

Spock chose his words carefully. "My comfort is not at issue here. You have repeatedly proven yourself to be a valuable member of the medical department. If you can overcome any ill-feelings toward me, I would prefer that you remain aboard." Her eyes rose, full of deeply personal questions, but he gave her no chance to speak. "Doctor, my thanks were intended for everyone, without exception. You may as well know that I am recommending you for a citation, along with Commander Scott, for your part in the Beta 10 incident."

A crooked, rewarding smile came over her face. "Thank you, Captain," she said. "I really appreciate that."

The image of her smile followed Spock into the corridor where he collided with Admiral Kirk. Backing a step, Kirk looked narrowed at the Vulcan, then at Doctor Fielding as she emerged from the conference room. His eyes tracked the woman until she went out of sight.

"Spock," he said, nibbling his lower lip, "it's not like you to be clumsy."

"My apologies," Spock said. "I was distracted."

Kirk gave him an "I bet you were" look. The trouble between Spock and Fielding were no secret.

Ignoring the comment, Spock scanned the printout McCoy had given him. "Jim," he said, frowning, "my test scores are not impressive. I do not understand the board's decision."

Kirk grinned. "Trying to worm your way out of command?" He continued in a more serious tone, "It's no mistake, Spock. Starfleet doesn't measure its officers by Vulcan standards. The tests say you're as fit as any human, and that's no insult."

Spock tried not to take insult, but to be called "fit as a human"…

"Oh, by the way…" Kirk reached into a pocket. "This came in just as I was leaving the bridge. A message for you from ShiKahr."

Spock accepted the com disk with thanks, but it was evening before he could return to his quarters and insert the disk into his desktop terminal. He hesitated before opening the mail. Most likely the message was from T'Beth, or from her grandmother with news about her. Would it bring more disappointment? Memories washed over him—some dimmed by sickness and drugs, others sharp and painful. So much had happened since the first difficult meeting with his daughter. He did not trust the latest improvement in T'Beth's behavior, yet their parting had held some promise for better days ahead.

He held back, reluctant to upset the delicate balance returning to his life. But the message must be viewed, so Spock ordered it onscreen. T'Beth's face appeared.

"Hello Father," she said. "I hope you're all better now. I can imagine you watching this, wondering what I'm going to say. I'm still trying to trust you, and I want to earn your trust, too. It shouldn't make any difference even if we're separated by a galaxy, but it still does.

"I want to read something to you that I wrote." Her eyes dropped to a paper offscreen. "Not a dawn will come without my thinking of you. When the hot noon wind blows sand into my eyes and takes away my breath, I'll remember you standing beside me in myfirst moments on Vulcan. I'll remember the feel of your arms as you carried me through the sandstorm to the encampment home. And how later that same night, when I got homesick and frightened, you held me and spoke to me so softly and sensibly that I relaxed and fell asleep. I'll remember all those things. And whenever I think of those moments, I'll know that in your heart, for those eleven long years, you never forgot me, either. Never, no matter how much the remembering hurt."

She looked up again, teary-eyed. "Sarek says that someday starships will be big enough to include the families of the crew. Wouldn't that be something? Gram says she's going to talk to you about taking a ground assignment until I'm grown, but not to 'hold my breath' because 'Space is in your blood'.

"She's right, isn't she? Journey safe. I miss you."