Chapter 3

Saavik was hiding something from him. Spock knew it for a certainty.

Certainly not herself. Her lovemaking was uninhibited. She often saw the desire in his eyes, coming to him before he even asked. She was passionate, tender, wild, and her desire for him increased his for her to volcano heights. Never had he enjoyed pon farr before, but with her, he didn't want it to end.

Except, what did she keep hidden deep in her mind? He could sense it, but never pulled it into the light. She gave him all her mind as freely as her body and having someone as fiercely independent as her open herself so eagerly made him hesitate to push for the one thing she kept from him.

But why did she hide that one thing, whatever it was? And why did it sadden her in the midst of what he knew were her happiest days?

Like this moment while the Fires lay banked and sated temporarily, they talked openly about so much in their lives. The freedom that experience brought -- to share with her things he kept buried almost from himself, including his concerns over the underground he was building and the still weeping injury he felt from losing Amanda.

And she gave him everything in return. He relived her days in the POW camp with her, shivering in the memories. He saw the murder of her parents -- her father's forced suicide by his own relatives and her mother by the camp guards.

After all that, what could she not want him to see?

The intimacy of lying with her, their bodies casually touching while their words underscored the wealth of thought and emotion coming through their talking: the experience was something he'd never forget.

How could he? He thought he knew everything about her and discovered that wasn't true. He never knew until this idyllic time what it was like to be beside her as she freely laughed, smiled, and touched him, not to stir desire, but out of fondness. She switched from quiet introspection whispered in the night to mirth that bubbled out of her like a warm spring through the last thin layer of ice. And her experiences shocked him because he couldn't believe he never heard of them before.

"A dancer?" he repeated.

She nodded, her eyes twinkling. "For an exotic show. Seriously. I was aboard the Aefran for only three months when Captain Hunter tells me I must get this information from a human independent trader named Turnjey. The man was obscene and nothing I did got me near him until I discovered he frequented a club on a neutral world. I learned the dancing, became rather good at it, and one night-- why are you looking at me like... you want to see it, don't you?"

He replied with mock righteous anger, claiming no interest in such common things, but her laughter sparkled over his words, and she slipped away returning with his lytherette.

"Here. I will need accompaniment. I am out of practice, but I believe I remember enough."

"What music do you expect me to play? I have never done such a thing as this before."

"You're attempt at being superior falls as flat as you're previous attempt to be indignant. I do not know the chords to the music -- don't smirk! I am the dancer, you are the musician. Play--" and she hummed the song as she pulled his shirt over her for a costume. "It starts that slow, but on the second repetition, increase the speed."

She danced as if not at all out of practice. In fact, she danced so well, he never played the second repetition.

Afterwards, they lay together again and he felt sanity return, but fatigue settled in with it. Still, he stroked a lock of her hair between his fingers and murmured drowsily, "Did your dance work so well the first time?"

She smiled. It grew broader when jealousy crossed his expression as it dawned on him that if her dance was successful, this Turnjey--

She tenderly touched his lips with her fingers. Her humor was gone, sobered by the memory. "No. I drew his attention, but it turned ugly. He attacked me and I defended myself."

"You killed him."

"Yes, after I tore the information Hunter wanted from his mind."

He gently stroked her cheek with the lock of hair he still held. "And it haunts you." Neither of them mentioned that was illogical to be bothered, let alone bothered by something she had to do. They didn't mention it for they knew logic was not the only thing for them.

She ran her fingers in his chest hair as she thought aloud. "Yes. Because it was the first time I used sex to weaken someone for the kill."

"Inadvertently," he reminded her. Then, as her words sunk in, "First time?"

Her nod stroked his hand. "Hunter hated me. No, she hated Romulans and through me, she exercised that prejudice. In the end, I did what she asked to save myself from her torture. For the most part, the men were like Turnjey. They deserved their deaths for the horrors they caused others and, if nothing else, I prevented them from ever inflicting their filth on someone else."

He knew Captain Hunter had tormented Saavik with both agonizer and booth, but he didn't know it had been this bad. Her disconnection from any positive experience overrode even the Fires' jealousy. "Surely one of your love--" No, pon farr was not overridden that much. "-- one of these men meant something? They were not all... missions?"

She rolled over and he scooped her against him so they spooned together. "The first one I thought was personal. I ignorantly thought I could experiment with such... associations. But I discovered I was his mission. He taught me how foolish I had been. The last one... I didn't know it until I saw it in his dying thoughts... He was infatuated with me. He thought our night together was going to be his dream come true."

Spock burned with hurt for her and didn't know what to do. Except tell her his own shames. "I know your pain. The first time I went through pon farr, I deliberately chose a woman who was infatuated with me despite my not returning her feelings. I thought it would make the experience better for her. It was worse. She knew I didn't care and the savagery the Fires cause terrified her. She had always said she knew I had emotions and wanted to see them without my controls. She did not know what that statement meant. The destruction of her fantasy -- I did her a favor by wiping her mind. And I never chose a woman I knew again until... Saavik!" He buried his face in her hair, letting the heady sensation soothe him.

Her voice was husky from the tears held back in her throat. "I swore I would never kill someone through sex again. I was sick with the person I was. It had to stop."

He laid his head against hers and breathed into her delicate ear. "What did you do?"

"Contacted you and asked to be transferred to Enterprise."

He threaded his fingers into her one hand and squeezed. "Why didn't you do that earlier?"

She said nothing for a long moment, then in a quiet voice asked, "Why didn't you send for me instead of my asking?"

Because he feared what derisive behavior she might get from Kirk and the others, and there she was living yet again in hell. No wonder she had so easily dismissed his warnings about serving on Enterprise. "I wanted to ask you, I should have. I cannot believe I did not know any of this."

She turned to stone in his arms except for the shiver that suddenly shook her. "I didn't want you to know. I was... afraid you would reject... Spock, please -- my control is gone, I never should have--"

He shushed her words, holding her tighter, their limbs wrapped together. His answer filtering into their mental link mixed together awe, sympathy, protectiveness, and waves of tenderness. "You can tell me anything."

He thought she would tell him the hidden thing then, but she only relaxed in his arms, her rapid breathing easing until they were again at peace.

"Were there any men since? Men because you wanted them or trusted them?"

"Yes."

He really had to stop asking these questions. His lirpa glinted in a shaft of starlight and he hungered to use it on these men. "Who?" he asked harshly.

She turned her head to gaze up at him, her voice sounding like he had forgotten the obvious. "You."

Surprise, then happiness and elation; he nuzzled his head in the curve of her neck and smiled.

He never felt so physically and emotionally drained, and yet it still amazed him when weariness again pulled him to sleep. He didn't want to, he wanted to enjoy the freedom of feeling so good, but he had to give into it while he could before the Fires rose again.

He almost had completely succumbed to it when he heard her speak, her own voice heavy with slumber. "Spock?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does Vulcan look like this?"

He opened his eyes, peering in the same direction she did. One window of the house, tinted so no one could see in, showed the desert's moonless night. "In some ways, yes."

"I just wondered. Spock?"

"Yes?"

"I found the one thing that is from the old Thieurrull. The stars. The stars are the same ones I watched before."

He fell asleep to dreams of taking her to Vulcan and showing her the homeworld she should have had but had never seen. He dreamt of her delight and his own joy at showing her that desert as well as ShiKahr, and his childhood home with his mother's garden.

When he awoke, she was already up, framed by the light of the rising sun. She was pacing, her fingers running through her hair, the picture of restlessness. He smiled a very masculine smile. In the last day as his pon farr evened out, she rarely took advantage of the time to sleep, grabbing an hour or so then waiting impatiently for him to awake. The second he did, she slipped into his arms, pressed hard against him, already eager for him to take her, matching his aggression and once even attempting to overpower him into a more passive role. That had lead to some interesting moments.

And as he watched her, he realized he had one question that he kept hidden from her: would she be here if it wasn't pon farr? Would she come to him if he just asked?

He padded across the floor on bare feet, pulling a blanket around them both. She snuggled back against him, the curve of her buttocks fitting against his groin. When he moaned, she kissed the underside of his chin, tracing her tongue against his throat, and wiggled her hips suggestively. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in his, and opened his mind to her. Her passions hammered into him, blazing hot.

He sensed something... different. He pulled back, cupping the side of her face. He placed his fingers into the proper position and touched her mind. Desire, passion, fierce, out of control: she burned for him as he did for her, and he thought with a thrill that she always would. But in the next second, he doubted that idea as something besides regular desire fed her passion, an edged alien thing that sought to possess him body and soul.

I heard of such cases, but they are rare. Did I serve as a catalyst? "Saavik," he said gently, "you are in pon farr."

And in her eyes, he saw she already knew.

They'd need more time here. He'd have to use the emergency channel to warn Stron.

But she was pushing him against the wall, pulling the blanket off of him. Then she hesitated and he saw that hidden, unknown thing naked in her eyes for the first time. It was gone before he could identify it.

Her gaze alight with wicked enjoyment, she whispered hoarsely, "Now it is your time to dance." She smiled at his protest that he couldn't. "Oh, but you can. Let me show you how well."

Her first two fingers once more stroked his as he weakly protested, "Saavik, I cannot--" She nibbled the tip of one pointed ear and his body jumped with pleasure. She laughed deep in her throat. "Oh, I see..."

She replaced the blanket's warmth with her own heat as she caressed his body by sliding down the length of him, her mouth following the trail blazoned by her hips and breasts, and he abandoned himself to their combined fires.

The call to Stron would have to wait.

It wasn't until much later they saw the warning for the first sign of protomatter instability in Thieurrull's core.

. . . .

Spock's first day back onboard the Enterprise and he already faced a desk full of work. The science team's reams of details on Thieurrull, the wealth of transcripts that listed the supposed orders from him that really came from Stron, the Romulans prisoners who were, for some unknown reason, still on board, and Kirk's arrival the next morning. Plus his muscles ached and he still felt the last of his fatigue.

He was better than ever before in his life.

He tackled the Thieurrull data initially and got a surprise. Saavik had it done. Not all the research of course, there was too much for one person to do, but she had the research plan completed, the work broken down for her department, and their schedules set. People not assigned to the landing party, whom she had sent to bed, stayed up through the night to start the large job of processing everything and she had worked with them.

How did she do it? She should have collapsed by now, he knew that better than anyone. He calculated their time on the surface against her pon farr again. Granted, she might have needed another day, but they both knew the last day was mostly the body recuperating. He had told her she could stay the night in his cabin, they'd find a way to secret her there, but she had said she only needed sleep.

Why then stay awake through the night? Surely, she did not expect to rest today. Thieurrull was breaking up and he knew she wanted to see it no matter the conflict it gave her.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. Perhaps she'd grown restless again and exercised it through work. He wished she'd come to him...

His head drifted from the computer to stare into space. He did wish she would come to him, but he had never asked his hidden question anymore than he discovered hers.

Never mind, back to work. Saavik not only had a good start with the Thieurrull data, she was pulling a great deal of research on Cartwright's meeting with Kirk. She unearthed the communiqués that set up the conference through Richichi as she first suspected. The topic was no more than Cartwright discussing Kirk's meteor rise in the admiralty. Apparently, other admirals such as Morrow were worried about where they'd be soon if Kirk kept growing in popularity. Cartwright came to Excelsior to propose an alliance. Saavik noted Spock's network were searching now for which admirals opposed them. She also noted for Spock's eyes alone the estimated timeline before Kirk's next promotion.

Spock rose an eyebrow. With his pon farr over, he'd have to heal the damage done in his partnership with the admiral so when Kirk moved up, so would Spock himself. He could not take over the Empire from the captain's seat here.

He heard the guard shift changing outside and Saavik's name spoken. She must be here. He amazed himself by how much like an adolescent he acted in his excitement. He was watching the door fixedly just waiting for her to walk through it. He composed his expression in case one of the other guards came with her.

If his excitement surprised him, his disappointment crushed him when Stron and Soluk entered without Saavik at all.

No matter, he'd see her soon on the bridge, and he already planned to help with the Thieurrull data. He was certainly qualified to work with the science department.

So his good mood was returned when he greeted the two other Vulcans. They, on the other hand, were unusually somber. He asked for their reports.

Stron spoke first as usual. "Ambassador Sarek called for you while you were out, Captain."

Spock's eyes narrowed. No wonder they were doleful. "For what purpose?"

"He heard of your original scheduled trip to Vulcan and then its cancellation, both done hurriedly. He was concerned for your welfare."

Was he? He had to admit, Sarek bore him no ill will, but their relationship, always strained, was almost nonexistent after Amanda's death.

Wait. Father realized why I-- Spock looked down at his desk. "And you told him?"

"The facts of your mission, those that could be revealed." There was more, he could tell. Stron only searched for a way to word it. "However, those facts, to one who is knowledgeable, spoke for themselves. Including who accompanied you on this mission."

Spock thought about it and simply nodded. His father knew; he'd prefer it otherwise, but could not see a problem. Stron must think otherwise, however, because his odd manner only increased. For that matter, so did Soluk's.

"About Lieutenant Saavik, sir. Is she in her quarters?" Stron asked.

"I assume." A sudden idea occurred to him. "You do not question my personal life, do you?"

"No, sir. Only our duty."

Good. Both men continued to serve well. "I believe you know that without asking. Correct, Mr. Stron?"

"Yes, Captain."

But they didn't move. He cocked an eyebrow. "Then?"

Stron actually took a deep breath. His salute lacked some of its customary sharpness. "Aye, sir." He spun on his heel, but stopped, waiting for Soluk.

The other guard watched Spock with his usual eerie silence, and then spoke with a gentleness his captain never heard him use. "We will make it painless, Captain."

Spock's shout froze them both when they were a half step away. He was around the desk and glaring at them in the time it took them to turn around.

"Make what painless, Mr. Soluk?"

"Lieutenant Saavik's execution, sir." Spock's eyebrows disappeared under his bangs. Soluk frowned, perplexed. "You do want it painless, correct? Sir?"

"Execution?" Spock managed to ask. Breathing normally was difficult and his heart fell like a rock in his side.

"Aye, Captain," Stron answered. In no way did he look composed. "For her violation of Vulcan Law 13278 subsection 4. Romulan citizens, including prisoners of war, cannot seduce Vulcan nationals. Violations are punishable by death."

Spock turned his back on them, mind racing. This was what Saavik had in her mind, that thing he thought she hid from him. This caused that sadness, buried during their passion, resurfacing when she had a moment to think.

Coming to him signed her death warrant.

And the thought hadn't been hidden from him; she thought he knew and refused to focus on it. Now he clearly remembered her thinking over her days in the POW camp, and realized why she had trembled, then rolled over, flinging herself into lovemaking.

And why her work was organized for someone to carry on after she was gone.

"She did not seduce me," he said over his shoulder. "I asked her."

Stron spoke after a beat. "Captain, I appreciate what it takes for you to speak of this--"

"I asked her! This was my choice!"

"I do not doubt you. But you were in... you were not of a clear mind. I warned her what her presence would do to you. She knew the consequences of going to you."

"Mr. Stron! I did not ask any other woman because she was my choice! It was so from the beginning. I was only unsure if she would agree. I will not have her service... her... I will not have her punished!"

Soluk opened his mouth, closed it, and dropped his gaze. Stron drew himself up and spoke instead. "Captain, no one will believe she is not guilty. A man in your condition, a Romulan POW, even a half-Romulan... and when she went into pon-- when she fell into the same condition, she did not leave you for another male."

Spock's world was breaking apart as Thieurrull itself was. He never thought someone would apply the law to this situation. He had killed her by keeping her with him.

He faced his guards, his eyes and voice cold, hard steel. "You will not touch Lieutenant Saavik. And you will not speak of this to anyone. Are we clear?"

"Captain--" Soluk began.

"I gave you your orders. I expect you to obey them." He hurriedly contacted the bridge, giving Chekov the conn while he settled important matters elsewhere. Then he marched out of the room, stopped again in the corridor when he saw Stron and Soluk were still following him, leaving his cabin in the protection of another officer. His eyebrow rose in question.

"We are still your guard, Captain," Stron said.

He nodded, feeling their presence wrongly next to him. Saavik should be beside him. It was her place by his side. Why did she do it? Why be with me knowing she'd die?

He kept himself composed. The crew must not see anything wrong. But something must have showed because people darted glances at him and hastened out of the way.

He brusquely ordered Stron and Soluk to guard Saavik's door and entered her quarters. She stood in the middle of the room, half turned away, her arms wrapped around herself, but her head snapped in his direction at the sound of him entering. Her eyes grew wide when she saw who it was.

Her arms dropped to her sides and she stood straight and strong. It made the openness of her words stand out painfully personal. "No, Spock, not you. Let Stron or Soluk kill me. If my service, if anything I have done means anything to you, honor this request. I cannot bear for it to be you."

The image of him being her executioner made him violently ill. His voice caught. "Do you think that's why I came?"

She seemed far away, further than the actual width of the room. "I knew what I was doing," she said. "We both did."

"No, I did not. I ignorantly thought the law did not imply to you. And my ignorance has cost you your life." He came closer wanting to touch her, feel her physically while they talked just as they had so shortly ago.

She sensed that and took a step further away. "The law very much applied to me."

"I asked you," he repeated.

"And when I entered pon farr myself? I believe I became the aggressor."

That moment came back to him: his telling her she was in pon farr, seeing she knew it, and her pinning him against the wall but pausing... "That hesitation before you touched me."

She nodded. "I knew. By some chance, if I was not prosecuted for violating the law before, the moment I touched you, I was guilty."

"You did not seduce me. I willingly stayed."

"It will not be seen as such. Who knows better than I do? My father went into pon farr and forced my mother. For being raped, she faced a death sentence."

He felt himself pale. "No one knows but us."

"Stron does. We had to contact him so he'd know we needed more time."

And he told Soluk, of course. The men are close friends, brothers. And most likely, Stron told T'Mes as well. If he told one t'hyla, he would tell the other. His hands clenched into fists. "I prefer Stron's execution to yours."

"I do not. He serves you well."

He amazed them both when somehow he said drily, "He hardly served as well as you."

Her mouth quirked. She said nothing, but her eyes twinkled. It died with her next words. "Others know. Sarek. T'Pau."

He crossed the last steps keeping only a breath between them. "Why?" he asked, for the moment wanting an answer to this question more than anything. "How could you say yes to me when I asked you to stay? Knowing what you did?"

As tall as she was, she still needed to look up into his eyes. Her voice was warm and her eyes gentle. "Have you ever doubted I would die for you?"

"Saavik..."

"That is my logical reason. Illogically... I suppose I found I could not bring another woman to you. Or choose another male for myself."

"I'd have killed him if you had." He held up his two fingers and after a hesitation, she touched them with her own. The slight mental contact telegraphed her arousal that he'd shol-kavife for her. They stood that way, loathe to break the moment.

But they had to. His hoarse voice grated his throat. "We will save you."

"You cannot. I do not want it backlashing--"

"I do not care. We will save you, there has to be a way. It is unfair. My father goes through the Fires with my mother, and I used to think of how I was punished for it. Now I have shared the pon farr with you, and I learn what punishment is."

She answered sadly, "The difference of being born on the other side of the Romulan border."

No! My mother having me was considered a huge difficulty in Vulcan society, but my father kept her. Even named me his heir after Sybok died.

And that showed him a path. "Are you pregnant?"

The abrupt question made her hand drop protectively in reflex to her abdomen. She stopped to gather her answer. "Spock, I was not prepared as I honestly did not know you were going to ask me. However, you--"

"I make no accusation. I should have prepared for this myself, but I never expected you to walk through that door. When you found me, I had given into the loathsome inevitably that I must choose someone. I was going to order a sterility shot be brought with her."

She trembled so hard, he could see it. "You choose someone... and I came to-- I interfered?"

He held her face in his hands and her shaking stilled with his staunch plea. "No, you saved me by giving me what I wanted, but was afraid to ask for. Other than the threat to your life, which I curse myself for not seeing, I regret none of our time together."

She laid her hand on his cheek. "Are you asking me if I regret it? You know my answer."

He let his breath out as if he had held it, and their foreheads leaned in until they pressed together.

He finally spoke. "The question on hand is -- could you be pregnant?"

She paused. "Is it possible? Yes. But surely I would sense the child?"

He interrupted firmly. "You do not know that for certain. Neither of us do, we have not gone through the experience before. And you will not take the pregnancy tests. Saavik, Vulcan law will keep you alive if you are pregnant. We will wait until Nature itself tells us if you are. It gives us time to find another answer in the event we need it."

She looked fondly at him. "Spock, no one will believe that excuse. Who waits?"

"People who fear what will happen if the news you are pregnant -- or suspect you are -- spreads from the Sickbay staff. The crew will soon put together who the father is."

Those words brought the chance of a baby from an abstract concept to save her life to a reality that they had created a child together. Their eyes met in shared amazement.

A child...

She shook it off first. "The chance still exists that I am not pregnant."

The present danger of her situation returned full force. He reached out to take her chin tenderly. "We could ensure you are. If you conceive soon, no one will know it was not from our Time of Mating."

She wrenched away, surprising him. Her eyes flashed, first with outrage, then determination softened by intimacy. "I know you look to save my life, but we must find another way. If I am not pregnant already, I will not become actually guilty of the crime for which I am accused." The warmth in her eyes deepened. "And if I bring you to my bed again, it will be because we choose to share it. Not as a tactical exercise."

Her openness amazed him to speechlessness and he savored the flush her words gave him. But his pause was taken wrong.

A shutter came down behind her eyes and she turned away, composed behind a Vulcan mask. "Not that I expect you to come to me ever again."

He felt shut out and resented it. He spun her back to face him. "Did it not occur to you I want the same thing? To have you come to me because you choose to, not because of the pon farr? Saavik--"

The intercom chimed for attention. "Captain Spock, you have a call on the priority channel."

Distracted, he stared at her as he responded. "Spock here. Who is it, Mr. Perez?"

"Sarek of Vulcan, sir."

Now their eyes met for a totally different reason. Saavik said quietly, "It begins."

He simply nodded. When she started to leave the room, he motioned for her to stay, wanting her to hear this. "Patch it through to here."

"Aye, sir."

A moment, then Sarek's distinguished features filled the screen. Spock turned it so he could sit in Saavik's desk chair. She was out of sight, but he felt her strong presence move closer him. "Greetings, Father."

"My son, you are well?"

The concern was unexpected and welcomed, but Spock saw Sarek as an embodiment of the law demanding Saavik's death and he could only respond to that. "Yes, Father. In fact, I believe I have good news. Saavik may be pregnant."

He heard her sudden intake of breath while Sarek paled on screen. "You have planned poorly, Spock."

"Like father, like son apparently. I am sure you were chastised for Mother becoming pregnant with me."

Sarek's mouth thinned into a tight line. "This is worse."

"Is it? At the time of your poor planning, Father, many must have disagreed."

"Your mother was not a Romulan prisoner of war."

Spock's voice lowered in warning. "Saavik is an Imperial citizen."

"But not a Vulcan one, and this business is Vulcan."

"Mother was not!"

Sarek closed his eyes as if seeking patience. "Spock, stop speaking like a plaintive child. When will you know if Saavik is pregnant?"

The plaintive child line hurt partly because it was true. Spock unconsciously returned to the old game of trying to out-Vulcan his father. "When I can be certain that discovering it does not cause her or our unborn infant to be a target for assassination."

"And when will that be?"

"When I can ascertain their safety, Father."

"Saavik's execution will only be rescheduled for after the birth."

She flinched and Spock hardened more against Sarek for those words. "Then I have months to plan overriding that execution."

Speaking stopped while both men regrouped. Sarek seemed to look through Spock and yet still addressed him; lines suddenly deepened on his face and he looked old, tired. "You think I do not know what this is costing you. You are wrong. I speak from experience, my son. But a continued attachment to Saavik will weaken you."

He might have listened if Sarek hadn't said that last part. "How so?"

"Do you forget what happened to her father for getting her mother pregnant?"

Saavik reeled as if struck and she gaped, strickened at what she could see of the Vulcan on screen. Her throat worked as if to speak so Spock hurriedly did so first. "Do you demand my suicide, Father? I am your heir. My death would end your bloodline. Unless, of course, those rumors of your 'closeness' to the Empress are true, in which case you can afford to lose another son."

"But what am I saying, Father? If you kill Saavik and I after the birth, you will have our child. I already know an impurely blooded heir does not disturb you."

Sarek rose up in his robes and his hard countenance had caused many to quake. "When you are able to speak free from petulance and as an adult, we will talk further. In the meantime, know if I did not care if you lived, I would not have contacted you. Sarek out."

The screen went dark and Spock dropped into Saavik's desk chair, his head heavy in his hands and cursed himself thoroughly. You lost control. Your illogic did nothing but make the situation worse. "Apparently, I have turned my father against me."

Saavik took a seat next to him and laid her hand down next to his. Yesterday, she'd have touched him. "Not as bad as that. He is right. He contacted you because he wants you well. Spock--"

"No, do not say it. I will hear nothing of sacrificing you for me. We have time. We will either see you are not pregnant or will have months until the birth."

"And then we're dead and another child grows up in this system. Spock, listen--"

"No!" He regretted shouting immediately and took a moment to calm himself. She was the one whose pon farr was cheated of a day to regain control, not him.

He spread his fingers so they grazed her hand lying so close. If she didn't want full contact, he'd restrain himself. "I dream of replacing this system with something better. How can I do that if I cannot save you?"

A spark reached out through the gloom surrounding her, lighting her eyes. "Ever the idealist."

"And you are the practical one who grounds me. You have already beat the odds facing your mother. You are an Imperial citizen. We will find a solution, but we cannot do that if you give up now."

A long pause and then she nodded. "So be it."

On Vulcan, Sarek almost slumped in front of the darkened comm station. My son... Why could he never tell Spock what he wanted? Why were they forever across the line from the other?

He should have listened to reports of how close Saavik was to Spock, but he had dismissed them as rumors, the same sort that put him in the Empress' bed. Where I would be welcomed and where I would go if I wanted the Empire. But I want only Vulcan and would only turn over the Empire to Spock. And unlike his brother, he does not want anything but the Enterprise.

Far from Saavik being just rumors, he had seen in Spock just now a reflection of the past, when he had faced his House as they tried to take Amanda away from him.

Why was his logic always so uncertain where his son was concerned?

Sarek turned to T'Pau out of site of the comm station. "You heard."

She nodded solemnly. "What are the odds of the Romulan woman being pregnant?"

"Highly against, but still a chance. They are hybrids, but Spock has been genetically engineered to be fertile or I could not name him heir. As for Saavik, we confront the genetic similarities between the Sundered and ourselves."

"Then we must discover if she is with child, Sarek. And if she is not, we will have to do what Spock refuses to carry out. Order your men."

For one of the few times in his life, Sarek stood against her. "I will not have Spock harmed."

She agreed. "If he conforms to what must be done, he is safe."