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XI

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"I do need all five," Makena says. She lines up her five communicators on the table and points to each in turn, "These three are for work. I never have a busy line that way. This one is for personal use. And this one is for very personal use."

"Oh?" Nyota asks.

"Yeah, it's got my highest tetris score programed into it."

"Oh," Nyota says. She adjusts the pillows supporting her lower back but it doesn't make her any more comfortable. She tries not to be jealous of Makena, who's upside down in one of the visitor's chairs. Nyota can't even walk five steps to the bathroom without getting winded. Makena was pacing in the hall earlier while she talked to a client and wasn't even out of breath after.

"What is tetris?" Sarek asks.

"Only the greatest game ever created. Here I'll show you how to play," Makena brings her communicator over to Sarek and explains the rules. Then she returns to the computer, mission command as she calls it, set up in the corner. There are a dozen glowing dots on the screen, each a different ship on a different mission. Makena is currently organizing a voyage to bring solar panels to Mars. Nyota can't help but be proud of her sister. She wishes her father could see how hard-working and industrious his youngest daughter is.

This game is infuriating. Nyota turns to Sarek as his thought echoes through her mind. I require a straight bar to clear lines and I am given a square instead.

Happens to the best of us, she responds without saying a word. Nyota squirms again. When she crosses her legs and angles her arms just so, the pain in her back is less annoying. But only for a moment.

It takes an embarrassing amount of force to pushes herself onto her side yet she somehow manages without help. From the new angle, the changes to her body are that much more apparent. Spock has read dozens of medical books and journals and has promised her over and over her body will heal itself just fine after birth but it currently seems like an impossible feat.

Nyota searches her mind. Sarek is there, their bond strong given he is less than five feet away. She can feel her babies too, their connection a chaotic hum of emotions compared to the distinct and clear thoughts of their grandfather. They seems content to her relief. Her marital link to Spock is distant and weak, like yelling to a person too far away to hear. He and the Enterprise are still nowhere to be found. By now Makena and Sarek have left dozens and dozens of messages for him.

Now, she pushes against her mattress, feeling the urge to sit up. Something feels off but she can't put her finger on what. Then she feels a new sensation. Across the room, she hear a mocking tune. Sarek has just lost his game, his attention on her instead of the moving blocks.

"Are you copacetic, ko-fu?"

She is too embarrassed to answer at first. It could be something serious but it more likely she has merely lost control of her bodily functions. Then Nyota feels the sheets beneath her growing wet. Makena turns away from her work to look at her sister, "What is it Nyota?"

"Can you go get Dr. M'Benga?"

Sarek quickly leaves the room. Makena comes to the side of the bed, her eyes searching Nyota's form for signs of hurt. "Nyota?"

"It's nothing, dear. I think my water broke."

It is incredible how easily her composed and confident sister becomes an panicky idiot. Makena crosses the room in two steps, reaching for the communicator Sarek left behind. She stops herself, turning, looking furiously for something.

Nyota presses the button on her wrist. Dr. M'Benga gave her a pager for emergencies but his voice does not materialize when she calls him now. Nyota has a sneaking suspicion he is avoiding her after his announcement this morning that the artificial heart her daughter needs has still not arrived. Makena is dumping her purse, leaving clothes, phasers, papers, grenades, and a transportable sanitizing device on the floor. She does not find what she is looking for and immediately pushes one of the visitor's chairs into a wall.

"It's okay Makena," Nyota says, hugging herself, "I promise. Everything will be fine."

"What are you basing this off of Nyota?" Makena cries, "Where is the doctor? Where is Spock? Where the hell is my communicator?"

As if to emphasize the final word in her last question, Makena upends another bag onto the floor. Her eyes dart over the contents before she groans and moves to shuffle through the thing she left scatter over the table.

"I'm just hoping," Nyota says. The past few weeks with her sister and father-in-law have done wonders for her stress but seeing Makena tearing apart her room in response to this new development is causing both sisters to unravel.

"Well, I'm trying to make sure it's fine," Makena retorts. She glances at Nyota. Neither sister has ever been very good at hiding emotion from the other and Makena stands straight, composing herself for a moment, forcing a smile, "You're right, big sister. Everything will be fine."

A pain much like a bad cramp sweeps across Nyota's abdomen and despite her attempts to hide it, Makena notices Nyota's hands fisting and instantly goes back to her search, "Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. The minute I find this damn communicator everything will be fine."

"There are five . . ."

"I know, Nyota! I have a sixth for emergencies. I use it to leave messages for Spock. It's the only one which can make deep space calls," Makena points at her sister, "And don't you dare lecture me right now about how impractical that is."

To be honest, that was the last thing on her mind but now that Makena has said it, Nyota can't help but agree with the sentiment.

"Forget the communicator. Come over here and hold my hand before I pass out from this -" Nyota can't finish her sentence as the pain intensifies.

Makena quickly kicks her way through the piles of stuff she has created on the floor. "I'm here. I'm here."

Nyota squeezes her sister's wrist as Makena idly uses her foot to pushes around her things on the floor. A few minutes pass, Makena sighs in defeat. Nyota hangs her head, already tiring. Makena notices.

"Tell me what to do," Makena asks, massaging her sister's palm, "Whatever you need, I'll get it."

"Just stay with me? I don't want to be alone."

"Absolutely," Makena glances back at the door. Makena often naps in the bed with Nyota despite warnings not to and there is one particular nurse, a nasty Vulcan male, who seems to have dedicated his life to expelling Makena from the room for this violation of protocol. Seeing the hallway is clear, Makena joins Nyota in the biobed.

"Why do you even want the communicator? Can it preform miracles?" The weeks spent in a hospital bed have obviously affected her mind because a small part of Nyota stupidly hopes the communicator can indeed preform miracles.

"You'd be surprised," Makena huffs. Nyota leans against her and Makena gently strokes her back. Just as Nyota begins to calm some, Makena jerks around, reaching in her pocket and pulling out the emergency communicator she had just been looking for.

Before Nyota can even speak, Makena is calling someone, "Perris! I need something big. Tell everyone to cancel what they're doing and be on alert for orders. What? Well, I'm sorry I woke you. Grab some coffee and get on it."

"What are you doing?" Nyota asks.

Before Makena can answer, Sarek and Dr. M'Benga return. Dr. M'Benga has a hypospray with him and he explains to her, "This will stop your contractions, okay?"

Nyota gaps at Dr. M'Benga. How could he have known she was contracting? Then she notices Sarek is pale and slightly bent over. I'm sorry, she tells him through their joined minds.

Nam-tor ri thrap wilat nem-tor rim, He responds, But please, allow him to give you the hypospray for both our sakes.

Nyota nods, tilting her head to indicate consent. After, Dr. M'Benga moves to gives her a physical examination. Sarek focuses on Nyota's eyes as Dr. M'Benga lifts her gown. When he sees the raw panic in her eyes, he comes and sit close to her bed.

"Listen, Perris," Makena is whispering ferociously into her communicator as she types into the computer, "I'm sending coordinates. Send Kor, not X'Jaya, not Wendy, not anyone but Kor, to the first. Then I need you to send Rhea and Jade to the second. Make sure they takes their licenses. They're my back up plan, they'll be getting an artificial organ out of processing."

"Nyota?" Dr. M'Benga says. She lifts her head to look at him. "First of all, I'm very proud of you. Carrying hybrids is difficult, to carry hybrid triplets for this long is unprecedented. You've done great, yeah?"

Nyota nods. She doesn't cry. She doesn't let her fear consume her. She doesn't have the benefit of being selfish. There is a task at hand.

"We need to deliver," Dr. M'Benga says.

"I'm not due for almost a month. My husband isn't here," Nyota says. "My daughter - Will she be alright if - ?"

"You've lost a lot of amniotic fluid. Your body is already prepared to give birth and there will be consequences if we wait too long," Dr. M'Benga touches her hand, "I can alert the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. We can keep her going for a few days. Hopefully the heart will arrive by then if I make some calls. But you have to think of the other two."

Nyota is torn. Her daughter is fragile. She has felt this and she has known this for some time. Her other children are well but there is no telling what can happen if they are premature. Complicating everything is the deep desire she has to see all three born, healthy and whole.

"Nyota," Makena calls. Nyota looks to her, blinking hard, "Nyota, I'm going to get that heart for her. One way or another. I'm sending someone for Spock too. Don't worry. Just do what you need to do. I'll take care of the rest."

Dr. M'Benga turns to her, "You're certain?"

"My people will make it happen," Makena says.

"I can put her in stasis for the next eighteen to twenty-four hours. I need to prep for surgery. Is that enough time for you?"

"More than enough," Makena replies. She smiles at Nyota, poised once again, and Nyota feels a small rush of confidence. Makena turns back to her communicator, "Perris. I also need two more ships. One is going to United States of Africa. The other is going on a hunting trip."

Nyota looks to Sarek. "I have an inordinate confidence in your ability to make the most ideal decision."

"Alright," Nyota says to Dr. M'Benga, "I trust you."

The next few minutes are a blur. Makena gives Nyota a long hug, "I'm going to do everything I can for you and your babies. I promise." Then she kisses her sister and runs to her computer to make more arrangements. Nurses and doctors arrive to wheel her into the room where the cryostasis machine is waiting, on and humming with life. There are other patients there, frozen in time. Some are waiting to be alive again, men, women, and children who need special procedures who cannot live until their ailments are cured. Other are looking for a better end. The elderly and others who are close to death that wait for family and friends to come and say their goodbyes.

"Don't worry," Dr. M'Benga says as he loads her into the machine. An intravenous is secured to her arms and almost instantly she feels her blood go cold. Her eyes are dropping easily and her body grows heavy.

She tries not to think of her own child, waiting in this room, for life or death. She tries to follow Dr. M'Benga's last order.

But she can't.

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Captain Kirk is staring openly at Spock as his commanding officers moves about the bridge, giving aid and encouragement to those who need it. Nyota and Kirk taught Spock this, that humans and really most species required emotional support to soothe their fickle confidences. When Spock is finished and ready to focus his energy of the communication center, which was destroyed in the first ion storm which stranded them on Heralia, the Captain is still watching him.

Uncertain how to react to this attention, Spock busies himself with the wiring under the console. He makes some adjustments and checks on the connection medium. As he pulls himself out from under, he finds himself face to face with the Captain, who moved to sit at the chief communication officer's chair.

"I just wanted to say," Kirk sighs, "Thanks. For everything you did down there. It's always nice to know someone has my back."

"I am confused," Spock replies.

Kirk's eyebrow jumps, "I'm referring to the rescue mission you planned. Remember? They were going to sacrifice me and you -"

"No," Spock interjects, "I am merely perplexed at the significance of having ownership of someone else's vertebrae. Particularly as I am not currently in possession of one of yours and additionally because I feel you would be angered at being paralyzed rather than adoring."

"Alrighty then," Kirk stands up, "First off, you're a dork. That can't be helped. Second, thanks again. And finally, I'm here for you too. In all aspects of your life. Including new roles."

Spock's expression is unchangeably vacant so Kirk adds, "I'm offering my support for when the kids arrive. You and Uhura are my family and I want you to see me as an uncle."

"You are not the brother of my father. That fact may make your erroneous relation impossible to completely accept."

"I'm gonna stop you right there buddy because this is clearly too much for you. I'm coming over to your room later. We're going to finish setting up the nursery. Maybe we'll drink. Maybe we'll play chess. Maybe we'll gossip. I don't know. But we'll definitely be bonding, I can tell you that much."

Spock's faces goes green and Kirk bites his tongue as he realizes the implication of his final statement.

"Stop. Don't tell me you're married. I know you are. We're spending time together. I'm going to think more about what I say. You're going to learn to understand the idiotic things humans, or really just me, say."

Spock's lips purse slightly. Kirk snaps, "Just shut up."

Kirk throws himself back in his chair with a huff. Vulcans. He hopes Spock understands his gesture but he's couldn't be sure what with the emotional constipation and such. It wasn't like he had been expecting a hug or something.

Not after conversation, at least.

His eyes traveled around the bridge and the warm fuzzy feelings he had been having earlier returned. Especially when he saw Scotty. The guy had been the linchpin in Spock's plan to get them out of the prison. And for his troubles, he had contracted a bad case of Heralian pox. The engineer never complained. He simply pushed through the pain and was currently working on the navigation system.

Still, there was something strange about a grown man with pox, Kirk thought as he watched Scotty and Charlene fixing the control panels. Maybe it was the nasally scottish accent. Or the strange curses he muttered under his breath, as he savagely scratched his inflamed skin. Or the oatmeal paste McCoy had given him to smear on his sores. Whatever it was, the Captain couldn't stop staring at his chief of engineering.

So he failed to notice his CMO entering the bridge and walking behind him until the hairs on his neck rose. By then it was too late. Before Kirk could even turn his head, the hypo was on his skin.

"Shit," Kirk blurts as the hypos hit his skin with a jolt of pain.

"Can anyone guess what I discovered today?" McCoy asks loudly, holding Kirk in his seat as he made another hypo. The crew turns away from their repairs. "Anyone? Oh come on. What did I find in my office today?"

"A desk?" Sulu asks.

"You're next, just for that," McCoy snaps, "But no. After I diagnosed Mr. Scott, I thought I would check over the personnel files to see if anyone was behind on their regulation medical shots. And lo and behold," McCoy pauses to give Jim another hypo. Their Captain yelps unheroically, "Dozens and dozens of crew members dodging their reminders to come and have their shots. Captain Kirk, always one to set an example, behind on 28 vaccinations."

Behind McCoy, Chekov casually picks up a report and slowly makes his way to the exit. Without turning, McCoy barks, "MQQ47892."

The doors to the bridge shut and lock. "Sit down Chekov. That's a medical quarantine code. No one but the CMO can override it. You're getting your 12 shots."

Kirk squirms but McCoy holds tightly to his captain's shoulder. He has an entire rant prepared and they would hear every damn word.

"You people just don't care. You don't care at all. It doesn't matter if my eyes implode from Bajorian flu. It doesn't matter if my blood turns to acid from Ion Toxicity. It doesn't matter if my my body freezes itself because I didn't take enough Anti-Betadine. Dr. McCoy will scrap my half dead carcass off the floor and put me right back together. Well I got news for you all. I don't want to die. If there is a class five contamination on this ship, I'm barricading myself in my office and you're all gonna be down shit creek without a paddle."

Kirk squeals like a stuck pig through his next three hyposprays, each noise of indignation louder than the previous. Finally, McCoy releases him and moves towards Chekov. The small ensign yelps, "You said Sulu vas next!"

"You're closer," McCoy growls. The ensign makes one final attempt to avoid the shot by running but McCoy isn't too old or too proud to wrestle him into the corner. He sits on the Russian's back as he preps and administer the shots. The rest of the bridge goes back to their work, very much used to their CMO's actions.

McCoy casually preps another hypo and surprises Sulu with a shot to the neck. Sulu opens his mouth to protest but McCoy says, "Don't even. Seventeen lapsed vaccination. You are a public health hazard. I should report you to the CDC."

He finishes Sulu's vaccinations and makes eye contact with his next victim, "Ensign Jordan. Or shall I say Ensign I-Don't-Have-Time-For-Vaccinations-But-I-Do-Have-Time-To-Be-Dead."

"At least pretend you're not enjoying this Bones," Kirk says, voice hoarse.

McCoy snorts at Kirk, "Ms. Masters. Up to date on everything. Thank you for taking the health of yourself and everyone on this ship seriously."

McCoy was just about to move on when he notices the wonderful smell coming from Scotty's covered mug. He picks it up and gives it a more meaningful sniff. "What is this?"

Scotty cannot even look him in the eye, "Hot chocolate."

McCoy saw red. No one listened to him. Why should they? He was just some slob with years of medical training. "Are you kidding me? Your blood glucose tests are off the charts and you -"

"Don't blame him," Lieutenant Master interrupts, "I made it for him. The cooling unit in his room in broken and we were freezing all night."

McCoy pauses, "We?"

"He," she says quickly, obviously flustered, "He was cold all night. I went to check on him this morning and . . ." Charlene's voice trails off as she realizes they have been found out.

Leonard McCoy will never in a million years admit this but he is somewhat romantic and he's always thought Master and Scotty were cute together. He suddenly feels like he is been too harsh. "Did you eat a donut this morning like you always do?"

Scotty furiously shakes his head. He is bright red.

"He didn't," Lieutenant Masters says, "He wasn't hungry."

"Fine but you can only have one cup."

McCoy turns back to his list. He glances from Lieutenant Hawkins to Ensign Levy, enjoying the look of panic on both their faces when they notice his attention. He is ready to go in for the kill when an ear shattering static fills the bridge. Spock has fixed the communication station.

Lieutenant Hawkins takes his position, two ensigns coming to stand behind him. They are his punishment, two inferior officers tasked with supervising his work since his incident with the Ferengi ship. Neither the Lieutenants nor the ensigns can believe what comes up on the screen.

"Seventeen messages from Starfleet. Eight from other ships and three hundred and four emergency transmissions from New Vulcan, Captain."

"Call New Vulcan and put the transmission on the screen Ensign Leah. Hawkins, watch the Ensign do so without endangering the entire ship, if you can."

Hawkins pauses. No. Still not worthy being court martialed for disorderly conduct. He moves out of the way and replies through clenched teeth, "Yes Captain."

The face of Ambassador Sarek appeared before the bridge crew. Spock rose quickly from his station to stand by Kirk's chair. Kirk reaches to touch his first officer's shoulder before he addresses the Ambassador.

"What's happening Ambassador? Is it Lieutenant Uhura?"

"Affirmative," Sarek's eyes went to his son, "Her amniotic sac has ruptured and there is no course of action to take but to deliver her. She is in the early stages of accouchement and has asked for her husband. Would it be permissible for Commander Spock to come to New Vulcan and participate in the process? We have sent a a shuttle that will be arriving shortly."

"Of course!" Kirk says, an unexpected sense of panic creeping through him.

"Captain," Spock says, leaning over, "I do not have sanctioned paternity leave for another 17.2 days. Starfleet-"

"Are you serious, Spock?" Kirk says, "Oh shit, you're serious."

"Captain -"

"Spock, she will murder you."

"And I'll help," McCoy adds. He punctuates his statement by giving Hawkins a hypo. The lieutenant makes an inhuman noise.

"Okay. I know. You have your thing about the rules," Kirk nods, "But I know you want to be there for her. You can take the last four days of vacation time."

"Me too, Commander," Chekov says, "You can have my last day."

"Yeah, give him three from mine too." Sulu says.

"Three from me too," Scotty says.

Bones sprints past the Captain's chair, and with athleticism no one knew he had, tackles Ensign Levy to the ground, and with a hypo in each hand, gives him both shots at once. McCoy grins until he notices Kirk smiling at him, "Just take it. Take whatever makes me happy for your selfish purposes and-"

"And that's eighteen days." Kirk says, jumping up and dragging Spock past Bones. "Let's get you to your woman, Spock."

Spock pulls away and turns to the crew, but before he can even open his mouth, Scotty snaps, "No time for that nonsense. Go to your lass. Bring me back some Vulcan wine."

"Give her a kiss for me," Charlene says.

"Send pictures," Sulu says.

Bones mutters something under his breath but when he slaps Spock on the back, it feels more friendly than anything else.

Unbeknownst to Spock, Kirk had packed a bag of clothing and toiletries for his CO to take with him, in case their current situation should occur. They go straight from the Captain's quarters to the transportation room where there is a strange being waiting them. She appears to be female, has golden skin, hair, and eyes, and Spock has a small inclining she is very attractive to Captain Kirk.

"Hello, I'm Nameha," the woman takes Spock's bag from Kirk's hand, "I work for your sister-in-law. I need you to come with me."

"Okay," Kirk blurts. He hasn't been on a date and months and it's showing.

Nameha rolls her eyes and links arms with Spock, pulling him onto the transportation pad. She speaks to a small microphone on her jacket, "I've got him. Beams us over, Raf."

Back on her ship, there is a tall, red haired man inserting coordinates into the navigation system. Nameha pushes Spock into a passenger seat and buckles him in. She takes her seat and they are suddenly flying through space, the force of their speed pushing Spock against his seat. He finds himself clinging to the handles of his chair.

"The Enterprise could get you to New Vulcan in eight hours. We'll get you there is three," the tall navigator tells him.

"Less if we can get this ship going fast," Nameha fiddles with some controls and Spock feels the skin on his face being pushed back as the ship's speed increases.

"Three hours is an acceptable travel time."

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Perhaps it was the fact that he was fourteen hours into a thirty six hour call shift or maybe it was just his infertile imagination but when Makena Uhura had told Dr. M'Benga to look for a half human, half Klingon hybrid who was to deliver a package, M'Benga had not known what to envision and thereby not known what to expect. He hadn't had time ponder. He had a patient with internal bleeding and another in need of intubation.

Thusly, when the seven foot tall specimen arrived, flanked on either side by hospital security, Dr. M'Benga had been terrified.

"Jabilo Geoffrey M'Benga?" the massive male asks.

M'Benga, to his own immense shame, hesitates before answering, "That's me."

The hybrid's eyes scan M'Benga's name on the doctor's jacket, "May I see some identification?"

M'Benga pulls out his identification badge, tensing his muscles to hide his shaking hands. The hybrid nods, unlocking the pair of handcuffs connecting his wrist to the package under his arm. The hybrid hands it to M'Benga and turns to leave.

M'Benga scans the package, reading the specification on the label. He almost drops it in disbelief when he realizes what it is.

Behind him, he hears Makena's voice called out, "Hey Kor."

The hybrid turns, "Hello Boss."

"How does it look Dr. M'Benga?" Makena asks.

"It's perfect. It's the right model, the right size. How did you?"

"Don't ask. Come here Kor. Have some food."

Dr. M'Benga gives himself a memo to get Makena's information. Normally he can't get an artificial organ for months and she did it in six hours. For now, he has triage prep.

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Suri Uhura softly clears her throat. Sitting across from her, Kamau's cousins notice and glance over. Suri smiles, desperately hoping the meek gesture hides her mild displeasure.

"Space travel makes me a little uncomfortable," she lies.

"You want us to get you something," the cousin - Suri thinks her name might be Asha and his, Rashid - says "Sanaa Auntie has a small pharmacy in her purse."

"Nah," Suri says, waving a hand, both to wave away the source of her discomfort and to uphold her lie, "I think I'll just try and nap."

The cousins nods, accepting her lie, and turn back into each other.

Suri's husband Kamau who had previously been napping himself, is grinning at her now.

"What?" Suri whispers, her tone much more severe than she would have liked, "Don't pretend like I'm just being pretentious and you can't smell anything."

"I don't think you're pretentious."

"Your family does." She wasn't usually this desperate and annoying. Really, she wasn't. Her husband's family made her this way.

"They're cliquey." He admits. Suri rolls her eyes. He's probably only giving this omission because early, when he tried to abandon her to converse with his cousins, she had dug her nails into his arm and seethed, "Don't you dare leave me."

"You really don't smell anything at all?"

"I don't sweetheart," Kamau rubs his eyes. He had just finished a full day of research and been giving a night lecture when his mother had burst into his classroom and told him about Nyota. He turns to his parents, "You guys smell anything?"

His mother M'Umbha attempts to hush him but it's too late. His father Alhamisi has already heard him. This is the wrong thing to say.

"Unbelievable," he says. He was mumbling something earlier and now Kamau realizes was saying that same word over and over. Alhamisi sees his wife and son looking, "She sends a garbage ship for us?"

"It's not -" But Kamau has no evidence to against his father's argument. The pilot had offered "Don't worry. It's not toxic," in lieu of a greeting when they first arrived. Earlier they had been offered masks. And one of Makena's employees is wearing what he can only assume is a biohazard suit.

"I'm sure she sent what was closest. It doesn't mean anything," M'Umbha says, stroking her husband's arm.

Normally M'Umbha can soothe his easy ire but not in matters like this. Alhamisi shakes his head, "No. She wants to send me a message? She wants to embarrass me? We will have words."

Kamau's grandmother, Alhamisi's mother Akua pokes her grandson's shoulder, saying simply, "Warn her."

Kamau watches his father for a moment. He is well acquainted with familial situations like this one and he can tell the older man is getting angrier and angrier. He pulls out his phone and sends his sister a text message, "Caution: Dad's pissed." Naturally, it doesn't go through.

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Makena accidentally grabs Sarek's hand when she sees the ship landing on the spacedock. They are on the top floor, on the northernmost wing of the hospital and through the night sky, they can easily see the lights of landing and departing ships. It has been twenty hours since Nyota has been placed in stasis. Spock has still not arrived and they are both anxious.

"That's them!" she whispers. She is smiling widely but through their temporary bond he can feel embarrassment, thick and so painful it makes him almost ill. He gently removes his hand from hers. She does not notice.

"How are you able to identify a ship from its lights alone?" Sarek asks. The ships are indiscernible from this distance.

"I just can. I know my ships," Makena replies. Before he can stop her, she grabs him again and pulls him towards the hospitals transportation room. A Vulcan female is working the controls and it appears to be a large party.

"See?" Makena says, "There are twelve people in our party. Mama, Kamau, Suri, my two uncle, my aunt, my cousins, my grandmother, and my father."

A cold wave of panic runs through Sarek and he once again pulls away from Makena. "I apologize for doubting you."

She shrugs, "You're not the first."

Makena is rocking back and forth on her heels as four persons materialize on the pad. She opens her arms for a hug but one figure is barking before he is completely materialized.

"Am I trash to you Makena? After all I've done? Is that what that was about?" Sarek recognize Alhmisi from his son's wedding. He stomps off the pad and towards his daughter but his son jumps in between them.

"Hi baby," Kamau says, pulling her into a hug. Makena does not return the embrace, sidestepping away as Kamau releases her, "What are you talking about?"

"Your mother was almost sick and your grandmother is eighty years old. They shouldn't have to deal with that," Alhmisi says, moving around Kamau as well.

"Was my ship that bad or was it just because it was mine that you found it awful?"

"I'm fine. Grandma is too," M'Uhmba says, tugging on her husband's arm, "No more yelling, alright?"

"No!" Makena snaps. She is running through the agenda on the ship she sent for them. She had thought they were picking up a specimen for researchers on Vulcanis but perhaps they moved the schedule around for convenience's sake and were transporting waste for disposal. Either way, she is angry now. "He wants to insult me. Let him insult me. It's nostalgic. Tell me about how awful my hard working employees are or how crappy the top of the line ship I sent was."

"Once the Uhuras stood against the guns of warlords and demanded freedom. Forgive me if I refuse to recognize your efforts in crime and a garage disposal."

"Wow. Well, I've been looking for something to put on business cards, so thanks a million for that," Makena's eyes dart to the pad. Four more of her relatives have arrived and the rest are materializing. They watch the exchange silently. Makena looks at them in turn, "Hello. I'm sorry your voyage was so unpleasant. It was my mistake," Makena turns back to her father, "See that? That was acknowledgement."

Alhmisi's mouth is flat and unyielding. Makena's jaw tightens, her face blazing. She notices for the first time her father is wearing that stupid 'Harvard Dad' shirt Kamau bought him when he was in medical school. Her anger is quickly turning into something worse: sadness. If she cries in front of him, she will never live it down. "I forgot. You can't acknowledge me. You only have one daughter."

She turns, intent on storming out when another figure appears on the pad. Her family rushes to gives him hugs and kisses as he passes through them but M'Umbha yanks Spock's arm and pushes him towards the exit. "Go to my daughter!"

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"Captain Kirk packed me a meal. I was supplied with a dozen replicated crackers, two packs of expired applesauce, and a bottle of water. I assume his good intent nonetheless."

Uhura laughs. The pain of contractions is little more than an irritating pressure on her lower body but Spock still caresses the side of her face, sending her feelings of comfort. "Really? Is he moonlighting in the kitchens now?"

"Not long after you left, he came to me and made it known that he would be supporting me during your leave. He did not ask for me for my opinion on the matter."

"Tell me about that," Uhura says. Behind them, she hears that surgeons have finished prepping and her breathing increases. Spock presses his palm to her cheek.

"He and Dr. McCoy have been quite insistent on inserting themselves into my spare time, with incrementally increasing thoroughness. Just recently Jim began insisting we partake in a ritual called a "sleepover". The doctor was not amused but he seemed to have been in an agreement with Jim. "

Uhura smiles, "They took care of you, huh?"

"I found their efforts maternal and unnecessary but nonetheless endearing," he leans close, his tone low like a conspirator, "There is no comparison between you and Jim. Please refrain from sharing that fact. I do not wish to be sanctioned by Starfleet for mutiny."

Uhura tries to laugh but her eyes begin weep, very much against her will.

His fingers ghost over her psionic points, waiting for her nod of consent, before he enters her mind fully.

She sees Sulu, crossing the cafeteria to slam his tray down at Spock's empty table, before burring his own nose in a book, the duo ignoring one another as they eat together.

She sees Spock with Scotty and Chekov, having drinks and the night ending with Spock having to carrying the young ensign back to his room.

She sees Christine, stopping him in the halls of the Enterprise, giving him words of encouragement and comfort.

She sees Carol defending Spock from the nasty comments of two young ensigns, the doctor unaware the Vulcan is near.

And Uhura, feeling the tangled emotions in his own mind, gives him memories of her time with Sarek, "I have been making a friend too."

Dr. M'Benga appears beyond the curtain covering her midsection, "Are you ready, Nyota?"

I am not, she says to Spock through their bond.

"Yes. Proceed."

Dr. M'Benga and his team work silently. They move with such instinct and confidence that Nyota feels her anxiety is easily containable.

Spock leans over her, stroking her face. The emotions flowing through the contact are so warm and comforting, she almost falls asleep. I missed you, my love.

Instinctively, she was aware that only a few minutes had passed. Yet it felt, illogically as it were, as if hours had crept by. It was agonizing. She was completely helpless, able to stare at the ceiling and little else.

"What is going on?" Nyota asks Spock.

He glances over the curtain and then turns back to her, shaking his head. She can feel the surgery, the pressure of their tools and hands, and has a vague knowledge of what is probably happening. She doesn't press him again for information.

"You're going to be a good father," she assures him, "You always have been."

It seems like the right thing to say but the moment she says it, his hand freezes over her face. New emotions surge through their contact before he can pull away. She quickly opens her mouth and then closes it. Now is not the time.

"We got the first!" Dr. M'Benga says, "Don't expect her to cry. C-section babies are not stimulated enough to outraged."

There is an unpleasant tug and Dr. M'Benga hands their firstborn to a nurse to be cleaned. The sound of her cries several seconds later, cutting and crystal clear in the silent room brings tears to her eyes. Spock stands to see her.

"How is she?"

He is visibly shaken as he sits down again, "Based on my research, she appears to be underweight. However, she is also, by my estimate, approximately 50.8 centimeters long. Factoring in her ability to scream loudly, I can conclude, she has well developed lungs."

But the nurse picks her up and is moving towards the door, saying only, "She requires an evaluation."

Nyota wants to protest but Spock touches her shoulder, "Let them proceed as they must. We will see her later."

Nyota nods, feeling another familiar tug. "You have a son," Dr. M'Benga says, his eyes crinkling as he smiles behind his mask.

"Where is he going?" Nyota asks as one of the doctor carries the bundle out of the room. The room is too quiet again, an air of tension settling around. "Is he alright?"

"Of course. He looks fine but we're going to give him a little oxygen." Dr. M'Benga focuses on his work again and Nyota takes care not to disturb him.

Finally there is one final pull. A strange noise, something much like a lost kitten meowing for its mother, fills the silent room. Dr. M'Benga gives her a reassuring look and then begins to make a move to the door.

"Wait!" Nyota says, "Let me see her at least."

One of the Vulcan doctors protests but Dr. M'Benga brings their smallest baby over, holding her so that her cheeks touches Nyota's. She has her father's eyes. The baby quiets for a moment and Nyota whispers to her, "Hello, my sweet girl."

Spock reaches out and caresses one of her tiny bare feet.

"I'll take good care of her," Dr. M'Benga promises. Then he and her are both gone.

The remaining staff prep her for the afterbirth and mercifully, she is put under.

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Kirk smiles at his monitor, unable to absorb a single fact or finding from the data currently on the screen. He received Spock's message almost two hours ago.

His mind in on New Vulcan. He imagines that Spock recalls a calming event in Uhura's ear as she labors. It's probably the story of the first time they met. Kirk has never heard the story but in his head the tale is from their academy days, and Uhura is a plucky young student who comes in and calls Spock out on a mistake he made in lecture, and Spock looks up at her finally, and realizes he's finally found the intelligent, beautiful, passionate woman he didn't even know he was looking for.

Or something like that. Kirk has barely thought about this, truthfully.

Finally he can't take it anymore. He promised he would wait but it is better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.

Plus, he really wants to and that skews many a decision.

"May I have your attention please. I have just received word from Lieutenant Uhura and Commander Spock on New Vulcan. In a short while, we will have three new crew members. . ."

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