Chapter 1:
"Oh, Daddy!" Tru's eyes widened with wonder at the sight of Jim Kirk in his Starfleet uniform. She ran over and touched the maroon fabric of his jacket reverently.
What was it, he wondered, about women and uniforms? Even a seven-year-old female like his daughter fell under the spell. But Antonia was not nearly as impressed. She smelled of her oil paints as she planted a quick goodbye kiss on his lips.
"Now, don't go getting any ideas," she warned. "Your starship days are over. Remember?"
Though he rejected any notion of returning to active duty, the thought of boarding the Enterprise B for its christening made his heart beat faster. "It's just for the launching," he assured her. "A little Saturday jaunt around the Solar System. They insisted that I attend. It makes for good press."
"You big ham," she said dryly.
He gave her an innocent look. "Who, me?" Starting for the door, he added, "Now don't go jumping to conclusions if I'm late. After all, there's the banquet." Exchanging a quick hug with Tru, he told her, "Mind your mother."
As he walked out into the yard, Lame Wolf waved to him from the paddock. Jim waved back, then turned toward the porch where Antonia and Tru stood watching.
Tru waved with both hands. "Bye, Daddy!"
"Enjoy yourself," Antonia said, barely smiling, "but not too much."
He knew that she meant the banquet liquor, and felt a twinge of annoyance. Tapping the reactivated com badge on his uniform, he called for transport. A beam settled over him and his family faded from view…
A moment later he stepped from a transporter booth at Starbase Phoenix in Arizona. Captain Aaron Pascal came forward to meet him.
"Jim," Pascal said.
"Aaron."
Pascal's marriage to T'Beth had resulted in enough socialization to put them on a first name basis, but there was still a bit of tension between them. Considering that Jim and T'Beth had shared romantic feelings in the past, it was only to be expected. Nevertheless, they had decided to meet here and face the onslaught of reporters together.
Aaron waved him over to the Security Desk for in-processing. The little gesture irked Jim. He was quite capable of finding his own way and conducting his own business. All too well, he remembered their chance meeting at the old San Francisco starbase following the Big Quake, and the way Aaron had taken control of the situation, felling an uncooperative desk clerk with a well-executed Vulcan nerve pinch. A nerve pinch! And that Airbike ride to Spock's damaged house? The fellow was bright, smooth and inventive. There was no denying that he had made T'Beth a good husband. Still, Jim was irked.
In a moment they were cleared to beam up. They stood side by side on the locus pads, and Jim took a deep breath before the beam caught him. He knew what was coming.
The transporter wave subsided and there was no chance to savor the starship atmosphere. A score of light beams found his eyes, a gaggle of reporters rushed forward, their questions overlapping as they thrust handheld cameras in his face.
"Captain Kirk…Admiral…so you and Starfleet have…how does it feel…what do you think…don't you wish…"
Jim fended them off with an upraised hand and self-deprecating smile. "Ladies…gentlemen."
They fell silent, cameras poised in midair.
As he cleared his throat, a wicked idea came to mind. "I feel…privileged to come aboard…especially in the company of this fine man." His hand settled on his startled companion's shoulder. "Captain Aaron Pascal, Chief of Starfleet Research and Development. He practically masterminded the design of this ship. It's a fascinating tale. I'm sure he'll be glad to tell you all about it."
Jim's strategy to sic them on Pascal failed. The press remained stubbornly clustered around him while Aaron slipped off to Engineering, unimpeded.
oooo
Tru lay on her back in a meadow, enjoying the warm spring sunshine as she gazed at the sky. It made her feel strange and lonely, knowing that her father was up there. A puffy cloud floated in the blue. If she stood on it, could she reach him? Could she reach all the way into space and touch Daddy?
"Tru!" Mama's voice drifted through the trees at the north edge of the meadow. The mares grazing with their foals lifted their heads, ears pricked toward the sound. Tru pictured her mother standing by the stable, worried.
"Elena True! Young lady, where are you?" Mama was angry now.
With a sigh, Tru got up. She ran through the thick grass, slipped beneath an energy fence, and sped along the wooded trail that led home. As she burst into the clearing, Mama was waiting for her, and she did not look pleased.
Out of breath, Tru said, "I was just over in the meadow."
Mama's frown deepened. "How was I to know? Tru, I've told you over and over—I won't have you just taking off whenever you feel like it. Now stay with Lame Wolf or come in the house. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mama," Tru answered respectfully, but deep down she was simmering.
Lame Wolf watched from the paddock. The young Shoshone's face looked impassive, but his dark eyes were sympathetic. Tru walked over to him as Mama headed back in to her artwork. Lame Wolf was training one of last year's colts, a gray Appaloosa sired by Daddy's prize stallion, Warcloud. The horse was strong and handsome, like Daddy himself.
"I like Daddy better than Mama," she fumed.
Lame Wolf spoke without looking at her. "She loves you with a mother's love. She wants to keep you from harm."
Tru didn't want to hear it. She said, "I'm going inside."
Across the yard, she stopped at the pen where she kept her pet ducks, and they mobbed her, looking for treats. She dug into her pocket and tossed them a few crumbs saved from her muffin at breakfast. Then she went into the house.
As she came through the door, she could hear Mama on the phone. Standing very still, she listened. Mama was talking to Grandma Cordova about Daddy. She was always so worried that Daddy would go "running off into space". "Like Tru," Mama was complaining, "always on the lookout for some kind of adventure. Why, last month he went orbital skydiving! He could have been killed!"
Tru felt a surge of anger. She was proud to be fearless like her father. Sure, he could be strict, but he was fun, too. Daddy would never leave them, not even for a starship!
Not waiting to hear more, she slipped back out the door and sneaked her way around the yard, into the tack room. In a moment, Shiloh's saddle and bridle were in her arms and she was on her way back to the meadow. There, she whistled for her pony and Shiloh trotted over, eager for a ride.
oooo
With a sigh of relief, Jim thought, At last…familiar faces!
Montgomery Scott and Pavel Chekov moved in beside him, and amid a clamor of reporters, they were escorted to the bridge. Pavel seemed to be enjoying himself, but Scotty rolled his eyes as if to say, Heaven help us.
They entered a lift, accompanied by a half dozen reporters who—strangely enough—turned to face the doors and assumed a courteous elevator silence. But the instant the doors opened, the privileged members of the press renewed the fight for Jim's attention. Ignoring them for now, he stepped onto the bridge of the newest Enterprise and paused to admire it.
Captain John Harriman hurried over and introduced himself. Referring to his three guests as "living legends", he proudly let Jim know that he had read about Captain Kirk's exploits in grade school. Privately, Jim wondered how long Harriman had been out of that school. The guy looked too young to command an air tug. Moving on, Jim met Hikaru Sulu's daughter. A few years from now, Tru would be just as lovely. His little girl, all grown up—he really didn't want to think about that.
Launch time neared. Jim settled into a chair between Pavel and Scotty, and the reporters finally left him.
Jim leaned toward Scotty and said low, "Sulu. I can't get over it. When did he have time for a family? I had to wait until I retired."
"Aye," Scotty replied. "And how is that daughter of yours. Elena?"
"Elena True. Smart as a whip. Real Starfleet material."
Pavel's eyes twinkled. "So, Keptin, you're raising kids and horses now?"
"Kirks and Appaloosas," Jim smiled.
Harriman walked up. "Captain Kirk. Will you give the order to get under way?"
The press rushed forward, their cameras extended to capture the historic moment.
Jim shook his head. "Oh, no…no."
Harriman insisted, so feeling rather like a museum piece, Jim slowly rose to his feet. The reporters seemed to be holding their collective breaths. Every eye was on him. There was no avoiding it.
With a shrug he said, "Take us out."
As he sank back into his seat, Pavel remarked, "Well said, Keptin."
"Brought a tear to my eye," Scotty declared, straight-faced.
oooo
Tru was high on the east ridge trail when she remembered what Daddy had said. Mind your mother. Her conscience began to smart. Of course, she hadn't promised anything, but he would never accept that as an excuse. There would be trouble when she got home.
Suddenly Tru wished that she had not disobeyed her mother. Looking across a little valley, she could see the mountain where Spock lived with his family. She was a long way out. Even if she started back right now, there was no way to reach the ranch before they missed her.
Shiloh shifted his footing as she checked the sky. Storm clouds were piling up fast. A cool breeze blew a lock of strawberry blonde hair into her eyes. With a shiver, she brushed it away. Better head for home; better head for home now.
oooo
Jim thoroughly enjoyed the tour of the ship. By the time he returned to the bridge, the Enterprise was well on her way.
"We just cleared the asteroid belt," Harriman told him with a smile.
The words were barely out of the captain's mouth when an alarm sounded from the communications board.
"Sir," reported the young woman on station, "we're receiving a distress call from the Liku—a ship transporting refugees to Earth." She channeled the transmission to the bridge. The Liku's captain sounded desperate. An unknown force was tearing at his ship and another in the convoy.
Jim found himself coming out of his chair. He sat down.
Harriman looked indecisive. "We're in no condition to mount a rescue. Contact other vessels in the area."
The communications officer quickly complied. She turned to her captain. "Sir…we're the only ship in range."
Jim rose again, his eyes hard on Harriman.
The captain told him, "We don't even have a full crew on board." Then he stopped wavering and issued the only possible order. "Helm, plot an intercept course. Full impulse power."
With his heart pounding, Jim sank back into his seat.
Scott murmured, "Is there somethin' wrong with yere chair?"
A writhing ribbon of energy appeared on the main view screen. Jim watched it flail at the two helpless ships as a steady, horrifying report streamed in from the Liku. They could not hold out much longer.
Rising, he stepped toward the captain and said, "Tractor beams."
Harriman was clearly frustrated. "The tractor beams won't be installed until Tuesday."
Jim thought fast. "Try venting plasma to disrupt the energy."
Harriman gave the word, but the plasma had no effect. Before their eyes, one of the ships collapsed, causing a brilliant explosion.
Scott had moved to an unmanned station. Sadly he reported, "Two hundred sixty-five dead. The Liku's hull integrity is at fifteen percent."
Jim focused on Harriman. "Close to transporter range."
Once more, Harriman followed his advice. The Enterprise changed position.
"Sir," an ensign reported, "I'm having trouble locking onto them."
Scott said, "Life signs fading in and out."
Onscreen, the Liku disintegrated. Jim gave Scott a hopeful look.
The engineer's voice was heavy with disappointment. "Forty-seven out of one hundred fifty."
Abruptly the deck wrenched. Jim grabbed for a railing, and the buffeting intensified. "Report!" he shouted. Old habit? Perhaps…but he knew exactly what he was doing, which was more than he could say for young Captain Harriman.
A woman replied, "We're caught in the gravimetric field emanating from the trailing edge of the ribbon!"
"Hull integrity at eighty-two percent," Scott warned.
The continuous jolting threatened Jim's precarious balance. He could only imagine the stress it was placing on the ship's structure. They had to break free! If only Spock was here, blast him…
A possible solution flashed into his mind. "An antimatter discharge directly ahead might disrupt the field long enough for us to break away. Photon torpedoes!" He did not wait for a response from Harriman. "Load torpedo bays! Prepare to fire…"
Harriman quietly broke in. "Captain, we don't have any torpedoes."
"Hull integrity at forty percent…"
With a stab of annoyance, Jim said, "Let me guess. Tuesday."
Scott turned from his station. "It may be possible to simulate a torpedo blast using a resonance burst from the main deflector disk."
Brilliant.
Jim said, "I think Pascal is down there."
"Aha!" Scott tried to get through to Engineering, and slapped the board in frustration. "The damn intercom's out!"
A sick feeling stirred in the pit of Jim's stomach. He refused to acknowledge it. After all, they were still in one piece…still alive…and he had been in tighter scrapes.
Harriman met his eyes and headed for the lift. "The con is yours."
Jim worked his way over to the center seat and dropped into it. The brand-new leather seemed to welcome him. Then he snapped out of it. "Wait!"
Captain Harriman paused by the lift.
Jim vacated the command chair and headed toward him. "Your place is on the bridge of your ship. I'll take care of it. Scotty, keep things together until I get back."
oooo
The storm was moving in fast. A few fat drops of rain spattered Tru as she urged her pony down the mountain. Rumbles of thunder made her uneasy.
"Hurry up, Shiloh!" she said.
They came off the trail and galloped across a meadow, toward the shelter of the tall trees. A bolt sizzled from the base of a cloud. Shiloh spooked, reared up, and his foreleg dropped into a hole. The crash of thunder masked an even more terrible sound. Shiloh went down hard, and Tru tumbled into the grass. Shaken, she lay still, wondering if lightening had struck them. Then she saw her pony struggling to rise, saw the bone protruding.
"No!" she cried.
oooo
Jim felt the adrenaline surging. As he rushed toward Engineering, the years seemed to slip away, and he felt almost young again. The jolting of the ship slammed him against bulkheads, but he scarcely noticed the pain. Racing through the corridors, down ladders, dodging steam bursts, he hung on for dear life.
He arrived at Engineering deck fifteen. He had studied the specs, and smoothly lifted a damping module. Everything was depending on him. Think man, think. Moving over, he opened a control panel, exposing row upon row of glowing blue circuit blocks. I can do this. A resonance burst. Child's play. Tru's image loomed into his thoughts, side by side with Antonia. Forget the damn banquet. Let me finish this up and I'll be home in time for dinner.
The ship lurched. Swiftly Jim reconfigured the circuits, pulling blocks and moving them until he was satisfied. Then he tapped his com badge and said, "Kirk here."
By some miracle, Scott answered. "I don't know how much longer I can hold it together…"
Jim slipped the damping module into its new position. "That's it…let's go!"
He heard Scott's voice. "Activate main deflector…" And then, "We're breakin' free!"
With a thrill of triumph, Jim raised his fist. "Yes!"
The Engineering deck groaned ominously. A sudden shift in air pressure stabbed at his ears, and his smile faded.
A fierce wind struck. As he grabbed for the railing, he glance down into the lower level and saw stars. His eyes widened…
oooo
Tears coursed down Tru's face as she hugged her pony's neck. "Shiloh, don't die," she begged. "It's all my fault; I should've listened to Mama."
A pellet of ice hit the grass beside her. All at once, the heavens opened and pea-sized hail pounded down. The pony's eyes were white-rimmed from pain and fear. Tru didn't want to leave him, but she had to act fast. She had to get help before Shiloh went into shock.
Loosening the saddle's girth strap, she promised, "I'll be back, Shiloh. Hold on."
One last hug, and she was off running.
oooo
Antonia was nearly finished painting when a cloud slid over the sun and the loft dimmed. Thunder rumbled in the mountains. Suddenly she felt cold. Dropping her brush in a can of turpentine, she hung up her smock and headed downstairs. As she reached the living room, Lame Wolf was coming in the front door. Alone.
"Where's Tru?" she asked him.
"She came inside hours ago."
Inside? The house had been dead silent. Standing at the base of the staircase, Antonia called to her daughter, but there was no answer. With a sigh, she mounted the stairs and entered Tru's bedroom. A caged bird blinked at her from its perch. Jim had given Tru the little Denevan parrot last Christmas, and Tru liked to carry it around on her finger. But the girl was nowhere in sight. Together with Lame Wolf, Antonia searched every corner of the house and headed for the outbuildings.
Lame Wolf came out of the tack room. "Shiloh's saddle is missing," he said in the reluctant tone he always used when Tru was sure to be punished.
The thunder was moving closer and the wind was picking up.
"That girl!" Antonia fumed. "Today of all days, with her father gone!"
"I'll find her," Lame Wolf volunteered.
Before Antonia could reply, two sparkling columns of energy formed near the house. She could make out the maroon Starfleet uniform jackets. Good, Jim was home early and had brought one of his friends along. He could handle his wayward daughter.
The figures coalesced into a pair of officers, a man and a woman. Both strangers. The brown-skinned woman took the lead as they approached Antonia. There was a paper in her hand and tears in her eyes.
"Mrs. Antonia Kirk?" she asked.
Antonia's heart began to thud. Somehow she nodded, telling herself, They're probably just looking for Jim. A social call.
"My name is Nyota Uhura." Her voice was sweet and melodic. "I was privileged to serve under Captain Kirk aboard the Enterprise."
Antonia forced a smile. "Jim's not here. He won't be back until…"
A tear rolled down Uhura's cheek. Her lips trembled. Softly she said, "There's been an accident. I regret to inform you…"
Antonia interrupted. "Jim's hurt. He's gotten himself hurt, hasn't he?"
She heard Lame Wolf moving in beside her, and reached for his hand. It felt warm and strong and alive.
Uhura began again, her dark eyes pained. "Out past the asteroid belt, the Enterprise became trapped in an energy ribbon. The heroic actions of Captain Kirk saved the ship. However…I regret to inform you that…"
Uhura faded from view. Antonia's knees were buckling. She felt herself sinking toward darkness, but there was no way to escape the dreadful words.
"…Captain James T. Kirk has died."
oooo
It was not logical. Such a deep bond of friendship between Vulcans was rare, and even rarer when there was a human involved. But Spock knew the depths of his bond to Jim Kirk. He should have sensed Jim passing at the very moment of death. Therefore, he questioned the accuracy of the first phone call.
Spock summoned T'Naisa and they sat down to watch the news. The screen was awash in conflicting bulletins and conjecture.
The phone chimed again.
Keeping his eyes on the screen, Spock put a hand phone to his ear. Out of long Starfleet habit, he answered, "Spock here."
T'Beth's voice burst from the phone. "Dad!" She rarely called him that. "Dad, it's Aaron…he's been injured. They're bringing him into SMC Phoenix."
Spock's chest cinched tight. "How bad is it?"
"I don't know. There was some kind of trouble aboard the Enterprise…" Her words choked off. "Father. Is Jim really dead?"
Spock hesitated to reply. "The reports are unclear…" T'Naisa put an arm around him and he could feel her body trembling. He shuddered once, then imposed a measure of calm on himself as he told T'Beth, "Please keep me informed."
The instant he closed the connection, the phone chimed again.
"Spock here." He recognized the woman's voice immediately, and repressed a second shudder as he acknowledge her. "Yes, Uhura."
"Spock." She sounded very relieved. "I'm over at Jim Kirk's ranch. I think you and your wife had better come over here."
oooo
Tru's legs ached as she jogged down the trail, but she forced them to keep moving. In her mind's eye she saw Shiloh lying helpless in the meadow, depending on her for his life. And it was all her fault.
"I'm sorry," she said aloud, breathless from so much running. "Please God, don't let him die!"
The trail took a downward turn. She picked up speed. Careening around a corner, she nearly bumped into a horse and rider.
Relief flooded her. "Lame Wolf! You have to help me—Shiloh broke a leg!"
Seated atop Warrior, Lame Wolf stared hard at her. "Tru, you need to come home."
"But Shiloh…" She pointed back up the trail.
Lame Wolf's jaw clenched. "You need to come home now. We can send help from there." He offered his hand.
Relenting, Tru climbed up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Warrior pivoted, and they took off.
After a while Tru said, "I guess Mama's pretty mad."
Lame Wolf was silent. It seemed to Tru that he was angry, too. Even though it was too early, she asked anyway. "Is Daddy home yet?"
"No," Lame Wolf answered.
They passed through the final stretch of woods, and the house came into view. Tru's mouth opened in amazement. A tangle of skimmers and ground cars filled the yard. Some she recognized, but others were new to her. What was going on?
A sickening thought occurred to her. "Is all this because of me?"
Lame Wolf turned in the saddle and looked at her sadly. "No, little True Friend, it is not because of you."
Relieved, Tru hopped down. "Come on, hurry. We have to tell them about Shiloh."
Lame Wolf dismounted and tied Warrior's reins to the porch rail. Then he reached for her hand and they entered the house together.
oooo
"Room seven," said the harried receptionist.
Cleared for entry, T'Beth picked her way through a jumble of grav-stretchers and portable equipment. The emergency department was in a state of organized chaos, with still more injured on the way. Room seven held a series of treatment cubicles. She poked her head inside, and caught a nauseating whiff of charred flesh.
Gathering her courage, she ventured into the room and searched for her husband. Back in a quiet corner, she found Aaron lying on a gurney with his eyes closed. One side of his bearded face looked battered.
"Aaron." She took his hand and pressed it to her lips. "Darling, I'm here."
His undamaged eye opened. Softly he said, "Amoureaux…"
A sob escaped her.
"Don't cry," he said with a weak smile. "I'm alright. Just my shoulder…and a couple of ribs."
Stroking his straight brown hair, she asked, "What in the world happened?"
"I was in the main Engineering control room. The ship began to lurch. Communications went out, and I headed up to the bridge. I thought I saw Jim Kirk on a ladder and called out, but he didn't seem to hear me. The next thing I remember…decompression…it threw me against a bulkhead. I figured I was dead, but then the emergency shield cycled on." He paused, knowing the pain his next words might inflict. "Jim…did he make it?"
oooo
Just inside the door, Tru stopped and tightened her grip on Lame Wolf's hand. A bad feeling came over her as she looked at all the people gathered in the living room. Even Father O'Day was there from Our Lady of Victory Church in Pinehaven. She had seen all these faces before, but never like this, so solemn and silent as they turned toward her. Tru's eyes briefly settled on Spock. The Vulcan sat near the 3-dimensional chessboard where he shared games with her father. His wife T'Naisa had pulled up a chair close beside him and was resting her head on his shoulder. Grandma Cordova looked as if she had been crying, and so did Aunt Pilar.
Mama was nowhere in sight.
They know, Tru thought. They must already know about Shiloh.
Words burst from her. "It's all my fault!"
T'Naisa raised her head.
Grandma said, "Poor little thing. It's not your fault, cara. You had nothing to do with it."
"Yes, I did," Tru insisted. "I was riding him hard. I shouldn't have sneaked out, but now Shiloh needs help. His leg is broken bad."
Grandma frowned. "Shiloh? Your pony?"
Maybe they didn't know, after all. "He's way out in a meadow. We have to call a vet. Where's Mama? We can't wait for Daddy. Shiloh needs help now."
Aunt Pilar broke into sobs and her husband comforted her. T'Naisa was in tears, too. For a moment, no one in the room said anything.
Spock quietly consulted with his wife and stood up. He said, "Tru, I will take you in my skimmer. We'll find your pony and get him the help he needs."
oooo
As Spock piloted the skimmer, he thought with pity of Antonia and her extended family. He knew what it was like to be paralyzed with grief. Though his own heart felt heavy, he was functioning. He welcomed the opportunity to be doing something productive, but as the minutes passed, he began to realize that he had placed himself in a very uncomfortable position.
Tru broke the silence in the cockpit. "What's going on, Uncle Spock? Why is everyone at my house? Why are people crying?"
Spock tensed. What was he to say?
They passed over a wooded area, into a series of meadows. The sun had slipped behind the trees, casting long shadows over the land.
Hoping to distract the child, he said, "We are approaching the area now. Keep a close watch."
She stared out the window and pointed east. "Go that way," she directed. He banked. "There! I think I see him!"
A sensor readout on the dash picked up an isolated life form. Spock dropped altitude and made a slow pass over a black and white object.
"It's him!" Tru cried, bouncing with impatience. "Oh, hurry up!"
Spock settled the skimmer into the wet grass. Tru threw open the door and ran to her pony. Spock called a local veterinarian, then joined her.
"Help is coming," he said.
Tru knelt with her arms around Shiloh's neck. The pony's breathing was fast and shallow, its eyes half-closed. Spock looked at the animal's gruesome injury and experienced a twinge of nausea. This was not something that could be fixed in the field. It occurred to him that the pony might actually die, and it could not come at a worse time.
The veterinarian beamed in. After a quick examination, he took Spock aside and asked whether he should treat the pony or euthanize it.
"You must save him," Spock said adamantly, "whatever the cost."
The doctor looked at Tru and nodded.
Soon Spock and Tru stood alone in the field while the last of the storm rumbled in the eastern mountains. Twilight was descending.
Abruptly Tru reached over and crushed him in a hug. "Thank-you, Uncle Spock, thank-you! Daddy will pay you back."
Something inside him twisted painfully. Gazing down at her reddish hair, he began to stroke it. He could no longer maintain the charade. Perhaps it was not his place, but honesty and compassion compelled him to tell Jim's daughter the truth, however personally difficult.
Quietly he said, "Your father did a brave thing today."
Tru tipped her head and looked up at him. "He did? Daddy's always brave, isn't he?"
"Yes."
She stepped away. "Oh, tell me! What did he do?"
Spock cleared his throat. "The Enterprise was in grave danger…trapped…about to disintegrate. All by himself, he went down to Engineering to try and free the ship."
"Did he?" Her eyes shone with excitement. He had seen that same look before, in Jim's eyes. "Did he free the ship? All by himself?"
Spock nodded and swallowed hard. He felt his control slipping, but there was no way to stop now that he had committed himself. "Yes, Tru. He freed the ship…but there was a great deal of damage…and…and not everyone came back."
He watched as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and closed her eyes. It was an odd behavior that he had witnessed before. Tru called it "capturing the moment", but this time tears squeezed out and dripped down her cheeks. And he understood what she was trying to capture—the last moment of believing that her father would come home.
With her eyes still firmly shut, she asked, "Daddy's not coming back, is he?"
Spock's throat ached. He drew a deep breath and said it. "No. He's not."
Her face crumpled. Her head bowed. Her hands balled into fists. Wailing with grief, she began to flail at him.
There was only one way to stop her. Dropping to one knee, Spock gathered Jim's daughter in his arms and the two of them wept together.