Nyota

McCoy released her to her quarters only very grudgingly. He insisted Nurse Chapel accompany her and make sure she continued to rest.

The older woman said nothing when Nyota lead them to the First Officer's quarters as opposed to her own. Spock's rooms were exactly as they'd been when she'd left them in a rush what seemed like weeks ago but was probably not longer than a day and half.

The cup she'd drunk her coffee from was sitting on the table in the living area. Out of habit she picked it up and put it in the recycler. Spock disliked such mess, with the cup gone everything in the room was in perfect order. In one corner an asenoi and a box of incense sat atop Spock's meditation mat. The sofa and two chairs in the centre of the room were neatly aligned to the table. The stack of PADDs atop Spock's desk sat at a precise right angle to the computer console.

'Leonard wants me to stick around for a while Lieutenant.' Nurse Chapel informed her. 'He's got it into his head you'll run off and do something silly.'

'You can call me Nyota.' she informed the nurse. It felt silly to keep to formalities when the woman was one of a precious few privy to all of Nyota's secrets.

'Well, you should call me Christine then, Nyota.' the nurse – Christine – replied.

Nyota gave her a soft smile. 'Christine, would you like some tea?' she asked heading to the replicator and reaching up to pick up a tin from the shelf above. 'I have some real stuff here.'

'Oh, I won't say no to real tea.' Christine said.

Nyota flipped open the tin shook it slightly to regard the little packets inside. 'I've got Earl Grey, English breakfast, Green Jasmine, Rooibos and Chai.'

Christine walked over to stand beside her. 'I haven't had rooibos since the last time I was in Cape town.' she said.

'Sugar or milk?' Nyota asked.

'Just black for me.'

Nyota programmed the replicator to dispense two cups of water at 95˚c. She opened a rooibos packet and popped it into a cup to steep, motioning for Christine to take it as she made her own.

'It will take a few minutes to brew.' she remarked as she took a seat on the couch.

Christine joined her, glancing around in interest as she did. Nyota didn't blame her, Spock was quite fascinating. If their roles had been reversed she'd have been curious as well.

'Now don't feel you need to entertain me Nyota. I'll happily sit her and go through some paperwork on my PADD if you'd like to rest or do something.' Christine said.

Nyota sighed. 'I've had more than enough sleep over the last 24 hours. McCoy was very free and easy with the sedatives.' she replied dryly.

'How are you feeling? No grogginess?' Christine inquired. 'You were given a huge dose when we first got you down to medbay.'

'I feel fine.' Nyota replied. 'Well, not fine, but I don't feel drugged.' The vague ache of Spock's absence nagged at her and she felt a little achy and bloated, but since she was apparently pregnant, that was hardly alarming.

Christine nodded and changed the subject. 'So, what do you think Commander Spock will say when you tell him he's going to be a father?' she asked. 'Or will he just raise an eyebrow?'

Nyota smiled. 'I'm sure that will be his initial reaction.' she admitted.

'Had you two discussed children?' she inquired then frowned. 'Oh you don't have to answer that. I'm just being nosy.'

'It's okay.' Nyota said. 'The only other person I could really talk to about this is Gaila, and she's on shift…'

'Well, anything you want to talk about is fine by me Nyota.' Christine replied. 'Nurses have to be good listeners.'

'We hadn't. Discussed children that is.' she said in response to the earlier question. 'We sort of had an unspoken agreement that it could wait a few years.'

Christine tilted her head. 'You're not worried he'll be angry are you?'

Nyota shook her head. He'd be shocked, but Spock was pretty unflappable. He'd take the news with his usual logical stoicism. 'No. He'll be shocked, and then intrigued by how this could have happened.' She glanced down at her flat stomach. 'He'll probably find the entire situation 'fascinating' more than anything.'

'Oh lordy. He was bad enough when you had those brain scans taken a few months back, he'll drive Leonard balmy over this.' Christine said.

Nyota smiled. The dynamic between her husband and Doctor McCoy was an amusing one. Spock almost seemed to enjoy exasperating the poor man by constantly correcting him.

They drank their tea and spoke of inconsequential ship's gossip. Half an hour later Christine left to return to the medbay. She forewarned Nyota that McCoy would probably send someone to check up on her periodically.

Nyota had a shower. Put on fresh clothes. Sat at Spock's desk. She didn't know what to do with herself. She wasn't hungry, she wasn't tired, she didn't want to read or watch a holo. Spock was somewhere. In danger. Maybe hurt. It was wrong that she was sitting safe in his quarters without him, parted from him in every possible way.

Absently she flicked on the computer view screen. A view of some complicated analysis tables appeared. She glanced over them. Spock had clearly left some sort of program running when he'd been called to the bridge unexpectedly. They appeared to be of some sort of botanical specimen. Something they'd picked up on some planet that intrigued him no doubt. She saved the file then exited out of the program out of habit. The blinking icon in one corner indicated that Spock had … 42 unread subspace messages?!

Spock checked his subspace routing address several times a day. He wouldn't let his correspondence build up to such an extent. Frowning Nyota opened his routing folder and glanced over his inbox. There were a few from the last 24 hours. Starfleet related communiqués. Below them in a separate directory was a long list of unopened messages. Most were from the same sender - routed through civilian subspace relays across the galaxy from New Vulcan.

She didn't want to open them. There would be some reason that Spock had not, why he'd saved them in a special directory but left them unread. If he'd been present she would have asked him. Flicking her finger over the screen she scrolled down the list. There were heaps. More than 30. They dated back to their departure from Earth. Cross-referencing the senders addresses, Nyota brought up a list of all the communication between Spock and the mystery person/s. It was all inbound save a single message Spock had sent just after their departure from Earth. He had not opened any of the messages after that response had been sent.

Nyota wasn't sure how long she stared at the messages. It was strange, suspicious. Spock had been… attacked… kidnapped, by Vulcans, and here was an evidently unwelcome persistent attempt at communication from a Vulcan. The most likely explanation was that the messages were antagonistic and that Spock was simply ignoring them because of that. If that was true however, it meant that the sender of the messages was perhaps involved in what had befallen him.

Decisively, Nyota brought up the oldest message. It was one of the three which Spock had actually viewed. She felt less like she was snooping opening one of the ones he already had.

It was a recorded video message.

A beautiful dark haired Vulcan woman appeared on the screen. She was richly dressed. What Nyota could see of her dress and robe was elaborate and her hair was adorned with jewellery. Her face was placid and cool.

'Greetings Spohkh.' She spoke in Vulcan with the same accent as Spock. She was clearly of similar rank to he and from the same region of Na'naam. 'My bondmate is lost with T'Khasi. As a female of child-bearing age it is my duty to reproduce to ensure maximum genetic diversity for our people. I found you to be a satisfactory sa-kagulsu.(fiancée). It is said you seek divorce from your human. It would be logical to renew Kah-ka.'

Nyota blinked. Stared in shock at the viewscreen. Whatever she'd been expecting…

She'd been aware that Spock had been betrothed as per Vulcan custom as a child, and that said betrothal had been broken when he left Vulcan, but she'd never given it any thought. It had already been ancient history by the time she met Spock. She'd never asked him about it. A strange feeling curled inside her. She did not like that his ex-fiancée was so beautiful. That she was clearly a T'Sai of the High Clans. And she definitely didn't like that she'd more or less proposed to her husband.

She cued the next message. The same woman inquired as to why Spock had not responded to her message. Nyota meanwhile wondered why he hadn't seen fit to tell her of his ex's bizarre interest. Frowning she opened the one message Spock had sent this… T'Pring. He appeared on the screen dressed in his uniform. Nyota noted that. He often dressed in a robe to speak to his father as a gesture of respect. He had not done so for this woman.

His face was utterly cold and emotionless. Nyota rarely saw him look so… Vulcan.

'Greetings T'Pring. I grieve with thee. I do not seek p'pil'lay from my wife. Live long and prosper.'

His words were very Vulcan too. Straight to the point. She wondered what this T'Pring could have possibly had to say in response to such a clear dismissal, and at her persistence. She scrolled the long list of unopened communiques and opened one at random.

The same woman, again richly dressed, but her face was not so smooth, so not emotionless. 'I do not understand why you do not respond. The tel-has-mar is intolerable. Why do you persist in your denial of the Kah-ka?'

Tel-has-mar? Oh. T'Pring's husband had died. Nyota glanced at the date. It had been sent five weeks after the destruction of Vulcan. If she'd been suffering bond sickness that entire time… well. Nyota hoped for her sake her marriage had been one based in logic rather than affection. She skipped forward a dozen messages or so.

T'Pring was just as beautifully dressed, but again, she seemed more emotional.

'You may keep your human as mistress if you require it. Since she cannot give you children I care not.'

Nyota huffed at the screen, the pity she'd felt for Spock's ex evaporating. She cued another message.

'Husband. You must come.'

Another.

'What have I done to displease you?'

Another.

'I feel you and yet you do not answer. We are bonded still and you leave me to madness.'

She stopped. T'Pring was frozen on the viewscreen. In place of the perfectly made up, dressed and coiffured woman of the first message there was a wild looking woman with her hair loose clearly dressed for sleep. Her eyes were strangely wide. As if she were drugged. Or mad. She'd gone from a quite reasonable suggestion, (or so it would seem to her), to calling Spock 'husband' and speaking to him as if they were married or bonded.

Nyota swallowed. She cued the last message.

T'Pring appeared elaborated dressed and adorned once more. Despite her appearance her voice still sounded emotional and her eyes were strange. 'Husband. Lady T'Prak tells me you have agreed to reconcile. I am gratified.'

It had been sent two days earlier. There was no doubt in Nyota's mind that T'Pring was the reason her bond to Spock was gone. She didn't give a second's thought to the claim about Spock agreeing to reconcile however. She knew his thoughts on p'pil'lay. He'd shared them most emphatically with her after T'Pau had re-bonded them. 'I will die before I am parted from you again in this manner k'hat'n'dlawa.' he had said. No. None of this had been done with Spock's agreement. She'd felt his panic the moment before their bond had been severed.

Impulsively she patched herself a direct priority one subspace connection to New Vulcan - to Sarek via his routing address at Vulcan High Command. With Spock's access codes and her knowledge of the ship's subspace communications, it was an easy enough task.

It was answered by an assistant. Nyota was cognizant that she was quite casually dressed – in a simple robe without makeup and with her hair loose, but she tried to affect a haughty demeanour at any rate. She didn't wait for the aide to speak.

'Please inform Administrator Sarek that Spohkh's wife would speak to him briefly of a matter of import.'

The Vulcan hesitated. Nyota restrained a sigh. 'If you do not inform Sarek immediately I will simply contact Lady Amanda.'

'Of course T'Sai.' the aide replied somewhat diplomatically. The screen flickered to a holding icon. It was several minutes before transmission resumed. Gratifyingly it was Spock's father.

'Daughter.' He greeted her politely. 'I am pleased you appear recovered. T'Pau thought your condition could be quite grave.'

'Honoured Father,' she returned in kind. 'The ones who have taken Spohkh, I believe them to be T'Pring and a woman named T'Prak. T'Pring has sent Spock increasingly erratic missives over the past few months. It appears losing her husband in the Immeasurable Loss has driven her mad. She refers to Spock as 'husband' and speaks of their bond as if it still remained. In her last message she claimed T'Prak had told her Spock had agreed to reconcile with her.'

Sarek's face did not reveal anything. 'A lie.' he said, sounding almost surprised.

Nyota supposed realising a Vulcan had lied would be a little shocking to one.

'This would explain the p'pil'lay. T'Prak is an elder capable of such a thing. Inform your Captain of this if you have not already, I will see to it appropriate actions are taken here.' He made the ta'al with his right hand. 'Peace and long life daughter.'

Nyota nodded and returned the salute. 'Live long and prosper honoured father.'

She sat for a minute wondering what to do. She would tell Kirk, but then what? He and McCoy would join forces to keep her strapped to a biobed if they could.

The ship's intercom came on, Ensign Chekov's distinctive voice echoing from the speaker. 'Attention all crew. We will be arriving at New Vulcan in T-minus 2 minutes. All hands report to stations.'

She got to her feet. At least she had an excuse to go to the bridge