A/N: Hello again all you wonderful people! Another big thank-you to those who reviewed ^^ I really appreciate all your feedback immensely!

Chapter ten! We're halfway through! ;]

This chapter's title is obviously a Biblical allusion. The garden of Eden is a place of paradise, as many of you are aware of, I'm sure. But, if you recall correctly, it's also the location of the fall of mankind - hmm, I wonder what that could foreshadow! ;] Hahaha I'm a tease I know, sorry!

As always, comments and critiques are welcomed! Please enjoy!

Chapter Ten: The Garden of Eden

"Your analysis, Lieutenant Nakamura?"

"According to these readings, sir, it appears this planet is unable to sustain carbon-based life-forms."

"Which is why we didn't pick up any life-signs on the planet, in spite of accounts of life being found here previously."

"That's the best explanation for it, sir."

Jim leaned back in his chair, pondering the situation. They had been sent here to determine if this lonely little planet was suitable to colonize. But if there were no carbon-based life forms... That was a shock. Of all species from every discovered planet, never had there been any documented cases of a life form based on anything but carbon. While this planet was now unlikely to be of any use to colonists, this was quite a significant scientific discovery.

Which pulled his thoughts to his new science officer. Lieutenant Nakamura was, so far, performing excellently. McCoy had been correct in his implications of her superior intelligence. She analyzed and extrapolated information quickly and her degrees in both physics and chemistry were obviously not just for show.

But while she was impressive, she was a far cry from a Vulcan. She was more than competent at her job – most captains would have killed to have her, seeing as she was young, intelligent, and decidedly beautiful with light olive-tan skin and long raven hair – but Jim would have traded her for – for Spock, in a heartbeat.

But he forced himself not to dwell on this and he said,

"Start running some scans to figure out what these life forms are based on, then. Uhura, open a channel directly to Starfleet. I'm pretty sure they'll want to know about this."

"Yes, sir," came the two feminine replies, and he turned his attention to the helm.

"Sulu, Chekov, maintain standard orbit around the planet. Cut to minimum impulse power – we may be here a while."

"Yes, sir," replied Sulu, as Chekov leaned towards him and murmured,

"Non-carbon based life forms! Can you beliewe it, Hikaru? I vould newer hawe thought that is possible!" Sulu chuckled and nodded, simply responding with,

"Pretty amazing," and Jim shifted his attention elsewhere. The planet was visible on the main viewscreen and he stared at it for a while. It was fairly small, mostly green and brown with some small blue patches, and pinky-white clouds spread across the surface in thin layers.

"The channel is open, sir," said Uhura.

"On the viewscreen, please, Lieutenant," he replied, and in a moment the image of the planet flashed away and was replaced with the grizzled face of an Admiral whose name he could not quite remember.

"I see you have urgent news, Captain Kirk," said the Admiral.

"Yes, sir," Jim agreed, nodding once, "While on a routine exploratory mission to the uninhabited planet Janus VI, my crew has discovered that the planet is unable to sustain life for carbon-based life forms. However..." He paused thoughtfully and the Admiral looked at him expectantly. "However, previous encounters on this planet, in addition to some other current scans, show that there is primitive life on this planet, suggesting the presence of a life form based on an element other than carbon."

The admiral's eyebrows shot up and for a moment he looked positively incredulous before replying,

"Well, that certainly would be quite an important discovery." Jim barely suppressed a grin at the older man's understatement.

"I figured as much, sir," he replied in amusement, and the admiral continued,

"I'm going to connect you with our science department right now. Whatever scan results you have, have your communications officer send them over – and any other scans you do, send those results, too."

"On it, sir," Uhura murmured before he had to say anything. Jim nodded.

"We're maintaining standard orbit around the planet," he said, "We'll be here for a while, and we'll send over every scan result we get as soon as possible. Contact us if necessary. Kirk out."

He cut the connection, the screen flashing back to the small green planet. A small sense of wonder filled him as he peered at it, and he said to no one in particular,

"This is pretty amazing."

The crew chuckled and murmured in agreement and at that moment, Jim was struck with a sudden longing for his former First Officer.

If Spock were there he surely would have made some comment about how "fascinating" the situation was, would state the astronomical odds of there being an alternate life form that the crew would marvel at, and would immediately start rattling off all the possibilities of what element these life forms were based on, all with a straight face but a glint in his eye that would betray his excitement and awe. Jim could see it excruciatingly clearly in his mind's eye, but reality cut in as Nakamura – his real Science Officer, now – said softly,

"Agreed, sir – this is quite a... humbling experience."

He forced himself to smile in response and he replied,

"Any hypotheses on the nature of these life forms, Lieutenant?" She looked faintly flustered as she replied,

"I'm still working on it, sir..." She turned back to her controls and Jim looked away. He needed to focus – he could miss Spock all he wanted later, but not now. He forced his mind to move elsewhere and he said,

"Uhura, have you sent the files?"

"About half of them had gone through, sir," she replied, her gaze fixed on her screens. He nodded – there wasn't much left to do now but twiddle his thumbs as tests were run and results were sent to Starfleet.

And in spite of himself, he found himself thinking of Spock again. But this time he did not fight it. It was no use.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Spock was walking down the sidewalk across the street from the line of children at the primary school. He approached the area he recalled T'Lyra to be standing at, and when he spotted her, he crossed the street. She spotted him and left the line of students to join him.

"Greetings," he said as they began to walk.

"Hello," she replied simply, then glanced around and asked, "No hovercar?"

"No, I do not own one, unfortunately," he replied, "But I assumed walking would be acceptable. It is not a great distance to your home." The girl nodded slowly and said,

"Yes. I have walked home before. Do you know the way?"

"Somewhat," he said wryly, "However, I will likely require your guidance at some point." T'Lyra's lips twitched in a flash of a smile and she quickened her pace slightly, swinging her school bag slightly as she did.

A normal Vulcan child would not behave in such a way, but Spock made no comment. He would speak to her at a more appropriate time.

It took twelve minutes and seventeen seconds to walk to T'Lyra's home. Theirs was a typical Vulcan house, a simple square shape made of gray stone with red bricks for detailing. The girl stood on tiptoe to reach the retinal scanner, which then scanned her eye, made a faint beeping sound, and the lock on the door clicked off. They stepped inside, removed their shoes by the door, and T'Lyra set her school bag down next to her black shoes and said,

"I am going to change into more casual attire. You are welcome to view the house, and the sitting area is through the hallway to your left."

"Thank you," Spock replied simply as T'Lyra hurried down the hallway to the right, where he assumed the private rooms to be. He stepped down the left hallway, taking in the decorations of the house. There were many holos on the walls of the hallway, which was unusual for a Vulcan home – but perfectly normal for a human one, he realized. They were all family pictures, some of Solap standing next to a human woman with dusty blond hair and bright green eyes – a trait that must have been selectively passed down to T'Lyra (he knew firsthand that Vulcan-Terran hybrids could not be carried to term naturally – he would have had two older siblings if it were not for this fact). He found it very illogical to pass down such an eye color if the couple had been intending to reside on Vulcan – but he supposed some things were unforeseeable.

Some other holos were of the family of three, ranging from the mother holding an infant in blankets to a holo that looked quite recent, and Spock approximated it to be between six and nine months old.

He then entered the living area and was mildly surprised at the very human appearance of it. It was not as clean and uncluttered as a Vulcan room would be, and while it was by no means messy, there were many items set out for purely decorational purposes that no logic-abiding Vulcan would own or keep in the open. There was an end table with a vase of white flowers, several other potted plants around the room, and a shelf sporting what appeared to be a collection of porcelain dolls.

There were five dolls on the shelves, all depicting humans in various styles of clothing. One was dressed in robes with a shepherd's crook in one hand, and it was displayed slightly more prominently than the others, in the center of the shelf, closer to the edge than the other four, two on either side.

He observed these for a moment and came to the conclusion that the human wife of Solap must have been given nearly free reign of the appearance of the interior of the house. There were a few Vulcan touches here and there – paintings on the walls by recognizable Vulcan artists, framed glyphs of Vulcan words, incense burners on a shelf that contained several rolled-up meditation mats. But other than those, if Spock had not known better he would have thought he had stepped into an average human family's Terran home.

It was then that T'Lyra arrived in the room, dressed now in a plain light gray children's robe that fell to just below her knees and left her forearms bare. She walked to his side as he looked back at the porcelain dolls and said,

"They belong to my mother. She had a very large collection of them when she lived on Earth. She told me that these are her five most special ones, because she had to give the rest away when she moved to Vulcan with my father."

"How did they survive to New Vulcan?" Spock asked, honestly intrigued – porcelain was a very fragile Terran material. T'Lyra's gaze fell to the stone tile.

"We were living on Betazed when it happened," she murmured softly, "We had been living there for one year, ten months and twenty-eight days. Father was working for the Vulcan ambassador to Betazed. But when the – the disaster happened, everyone moved here to New Vulcan as soon as the colony was announced."

Spock nodded slowly.

"It is most fascinating that they have remained intact. Porcelain generally cannot stand up to the intense pressure of space travel."

"One of them broke, once," T'Lyra mused, "Mother spent an entire day gluing it back together."

"That is... fascinating."

"Father said it was very illogical of her but she persisted in her efforts. I believe it made her sad to see it broken. It was that one on the far right, with the multicolored robe."

Slowly Spock nodded. She seemed to be quite observant, very astute, in spite of her other non-Vulcan mannerisms.

They stood in silence for thirty-two seconds, then T'Lyra looked up at Spock and said,

"Normally I would begin on my assigned homework at this time."

"Will you require any assistance?" Spock inquired.

"Possibly," she replied simply, and he nodded.

"May I sit?" He gestured towards the couch and her features flickered in a brief smile.

"That would be its intended purpose," she replied, amusement heavy in her tone. He fought off a smirk and sat down slowly. T'Lyra sat down in a chair across from him, a table separating them, with her school bag at her feet. She pulled a PADD out from the dark folds of cloth and silently began working.

Spock closed his eyes, entering a very light meditative state.

After seven minutes and forty seconds, T'Lyra said softly,

"I require some assistance with this problem." He opened his eyes.

"What kind of problem?" he asked as he reached for the PADD she held out to him.

"It is mathematics," she replied. He scanned over the problems – basic algebra. He leaned over the table and explained each step to her, recalling with a hint of fondness his days as a professor at Starfleet. He had not realized how much he enjoyed teaching, but guiding T'Lyra until she could successfully solve each problem was quite satisfying. It appeared to be pleasing for her as well – she nearly smiled when he nodded approvingly at her efforts.

It took one hour, seven minutes, and eighteen seconds to complete her homework. When she had finished, she carefully placed the PADD back in her school bag, and then leaned back in her seat, looking across at Spock.

"What now?" she asked simply.

"What would you like to do?" he inquired in response.

"Well," she said shyly,"You said we could practice ka'athyra."

"Indeed I did," Spock replied wryly, "Where may we practice?"

T'Lyra stood up quickly. "In the music room," she said, making a faint gesture with her head for him to follow her. He stood, an eyebrow quirking in surprise.

"A music room?" he repeated almost disbelievingly as they went through an arched doorway on the opposite end of the room.

They entered the room and Spock stopped in his tracks, exceedingly surprised at the scene before him.

The first thing to catch his attention was the grand piano occupying the corner of the room, a glazed black color with gold and red lettering. He would never have expected to see such a thing in an average citizen's home – they were generally found in professional music halls, not to mention its foreign quality of being from Earth.

T'Lyra watched his reaction guardedly, then said faintly, "My mother was a professional musician on Earth. Piano was her primary instrument. That is why we have a music room."

"...I see," Spock said slowly, finally bringing himself to look around the rest of the room. Large windows allowed for the room to be filled with light, reflecting off the glazed and polished finishes of not only the dominating piano but of the assortment of other musical instruments as well. He recognized several Earth instruments, a few that he was certain were from other exotic planets (he could not ascertain what they were nor how they were supposed to be used), and many Vulcan instruments, both traditional and modern. In the far corner of the room were three ka'athyra – two regular models of differing colors, and one child-sized lute of a plain, grayish-brown finish.

T'Lyra headed for that corner, and after a moment of getting over his initial shock, Spock followed her.

"This one is mine," she said, picking up the child-sized lute. "The yellower one is Mother's, but the reddish one is meant to be mine for when I am bigger. You may use that one."

"Are you certain?" Spock asked, feeling slightly apprehensive. T'Lyra's eyes glinted as she suppressed a smile and she pulled another chair over, replying,

"Yes."

Spock only hesitated a moment longer, then reached for the ka'athyra and seated himself beside T'Lyra.

It was not until the ka'athyra strings were singing beneath his fingertips that he realized just how much he had missed it – missed playing the lute, missed making music, for the last time he had played ka'athyra was three months and seventeen days before the Narada incident. He found the music now to be highly relaxing, the way it had been the day before in the music hall, keeping his mind occupied with the mathematical beauty of it.

They settled into a routine this way. Spock would retrieve T'Lyra from school, they would walk to her house, he would assist her in completing her homework, and they would then play music together, often until T'Lyra's father came home. Some days, when the heat was milder, they would sit out in the garden to work and play music. Some days he took her on excursions to nearby locations, ranging from simple walks to the nearby store to purchase her favorite sweets to a trip to the music hall he had found near the embassy, all of which obviously delighted her in spite of her attempts at control. Sometimes when she slipped he would point it out to her, guide her – but sometimes those trickles of emotion were far too endearing for him to admonish. They shared all sorts of knowledge with each other – he told her stories of his brief time traversing the galaxy, which she found most interesting, and in turn she educated him on all sorts of childish, feminine things he really had no use for but listened attentively to anyway. One afternoon they spent an entire two hours sitting out in the garden as she attempted to teach him some peculiar human aesthetic practice of "braiding hair", which he found exceedingly illogical and useless – he would never encounter a situation in which being able to braid a female's hair would be necessary – but she insisted that it was important and so he worked diligently with her until she deemed his braids acceptable.

He found solace in the girl. For those four hours each day, he was too preoccupied with her to think about the demons eating away at him from the inside, and for that he was illogically and unfathomably grateful.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up on Wednesday.