Five days later, Jim gave the orders that would put Enterprise into stationary orbit above New Vulcan.

"All secure, Captain," Sulu reported.

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu," Jim said. "Ms. Uhura, please let them know we stand ready to receive the ambassadorial party at their convenience."

A moment later, Uhura reported, "They are prepared to beam up immediately."

"Of course they are," Jim murmured, then looked at Spock. "Mr. Spock, you're with me. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."

"It'll be good to see Ambassador Sarek again," Jim said as they started toward the main transporter room - mostly because he felt he should say something. "And the other you."

"Indeed," Spock said. "I will be interested to know how Ambassador Charvanek was able to negotiate a meeting between our peoples so quickly. Given the Romulans' general aversion to the Federation, I would not have expected any such meeting for at least a handful of years."

"Spock made an attempt at rapprochement in his timeline," Jim said. "The effort to save Romulus was part of it. He probably knew who to contact, and how to go about it. Having the emperor's interest helped, too."

He felt Spock's gaze and curiosity through their bond. "How do you know this, Captain?"

"There was a lot of bleedover when he melded with me on Delta Vega," Jim replied. "And I've been keeping in touch with the other me. He told me some things."

"I see," Spock said as Jim led the way into the room.

"Are we ready?" Jim asked the technician on duty.

"Aye, sir, receiving confirmation from New Vulcan now."

"Energize," Jim ordered, and watched as the transporter pad filled with figures. He recognized Ambassador Sarek immediately, and flanking him on either side were the elder Spock and the Romulan commander - now ambassador, he reminded himself - Di'On Charvanek. The other pads were filled by Vulcan and Romulan aides. Jim almost frowned when he realized that his counterpart wasn't among them.

But the party was solidifying, and Jim schooled his expression to neutrality as he stepped forward to greet them, raising his hand in the ta'al.

"Ambassadors," he said. "Welcome aboard the Enterprise."

"Captain." Sarek returned the greeting, lowered his hand.

"My apologies for not receiving you more formally," Jim said, "but our orders are to depart New Vulcan immediately."

"Nothing more formal is necessary," Sarek replied. "There will be formal events when we rendezvous with the Romulan party."

"We appreciate your courtesy, Mr. Ambassador. If you'll excuse me, I'll return to the bridge and get us under way. Commander Spock will show you to your quarters."

"If you will come with me." Spock gestured to the door.

Sarek and the elder Spock lingered a moment. Jim sensed some unspoken communication between them, then the other Spock turned to him.

"Jim regrets that an allergic reaction prevented his attendance and sends his regards."

Jim grinned. "Probably not in those words."

He was rewarded with the slightest twitch of lips. "His exact words were, Tell the kid if anything goes wrong, I'll kill him myself."

Jim had to chuckle. "That I believe. We'll talk soon."

"I look forward to it." The elder Spock nodded, then left the room, and Jim realized he was alone with Ambassador Sarek - Spock's father.

"Ambassador," Jim said, pitching the word as an invitation - though for what, he did not know.

"You may use my name."

Jim blinked, the only sign of his surprise at the offer. "Then I'm Jim."

"Jim." Sarek inclined his head. "Please join me for dinner tonight."

This conversation kept surprising him. Jim strove for a normal tone. "It would be my honor, Sarek."

Sarek followed his alternate son from the room, leaving Jim staring after them.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of updates to Starfleet, a reception for the diplomatic party with President Kiraly - though Sarek had said nothing formal was necessary, Jim knew what the Admiralty expected and determined to give it to them, after a fashion - and his normal duties.

The end of shift came sooner than he'd expected, and Jim handed off the bridge to his beta shift relief.

He was at the door to his quarters before he remembered. Dinner with Sarek.

Jim cursed under his breath, then sent a message to Sarek informing the ambassador that he was available for dinner at his convenience before turning into the 'fresher to run a comb through his hair and clean his teeth.

Sarek's answering message was waiting for him, and it confirmed what he'd suspected - that Sarek would receive him at any time.

Jim straightened his shoulders, and started for the VIP guest quarters.

"Sarek," Jim said when the door to the ambassador's quarters slid open.

"Jim. Enter."

Sarek stepped aside to let him into the guest quarters, and Jim was mildly surprised to find the temperature set only a handful of degrees above ship's norm. Spock normally kept his quarters much warmer than that, and Jim had expected Sarek to do the same.

He followed Sarek to the small sitting area, where a selection of what a human might call antipasti or tapas had been arranged on a low table. One other fact registered.

"You didn't have to provide meat," Jim said.

"I am aware that most humans eat it," Sarek replied. "It was no trouble to replicate some."

"Thank you." Jim sat when Sarek did, and then realized that he had no idea what to say. Vulcans didn't make small talk, but that didn't mean Jim felt comfortable sitting and eating in silence. Still, that was Sarek's preference, so he could endure a little discomfort.

Once they had served themselves, Sarek met Jim's gaze.

"Spock informed me that you are bonded with him."

Jim felt his eyes widening in surprise. Of all the things Sarek might have wanted to talk about, his relationship with Spock hadn't even made the list.

"Yes. It happened during that first mission, during the … incident … on the bridge." That was as diplomatic as Jim could be. He didn't want to bring up unpleasant memories, but he wouldn't shy from the truth, either.

"That was well done."

Jim could only stare at him, supposing the conversation would be full of surprises. "What?"

"He was emotionally compromised, yet would not admit it." Sarek's eyes grew distant for a moment. "In that regard, he is much like his mother."

Father, too, I'd bet, Jim thought. What he said aloud was, "I knew I had to get him to show it. I regret the means I used."

"Do not regret efficiency, Jim. Nor effectiveness." Sarek set his plate aside. "What has he told you of the bond between you?"

Jim studied him for a moment before he, too, set his plate aside. "He said we are t'hy'la."

"Do you know what that means?"

"Standard has no equivalent," Jim said. "Spock has used the terms friend, brother, lover, more-than-kin… but I think of it as the thousandth man."

Sarek raised one eyebrow. "The thousandth man?"

"A poem by the Terran poet Kipling," Jim said, and then quoted, "One man in a thousand, Solomon says, will stick more close than a brother… the thousandth man will stand by your side, to the gallow's foot and after. There's a lot more, but that's the spirit of the piece."

Sarek appeared to consider those words. "I will look up this poem. Has Spock told you how uncommon such a bond is?"

"I assumed any bond between a Vulcan and a human is rare." Jim kept his voice even.

"While that is true, I referred to a t'hy'la bond in itself."

"Vulcans are telepaths," Jim said, and then realized that Sarek wouldn't necessarily have followed his thought process and added, "so bonds can't be that rare."

"Family bonds are not." Sarek didn't add obviously, but he didn't need to. "And of course we bond with our mates. But a t'hy'la bond is different. It cannot be forced or chosen."

Jim wondered, idly, how one could tell the difference, after the bond was formed. What he said was, "Spock told me that the bond formed when he attacked me on the bridge. He said because he was compromised, he attacked both physically and mentally."

"Such a bond would not remain unless both minds were prepared to accept it."

Jim's stomach cramped from the effort to hold back laughter. When he thought he could speak reasonably, he said, "I don't believe either of us was prepared to accept it at that time."

"Perhaps not consciously," Sarek allowed. "But nonetheless, I am gratified that my son has a t'hy'la, however inauspiciously the bond may have begun."

Maybe it was an echo of Spock's perceptions through their bond, or maybe Jim was more perceptive than he'd thought - or maybe he was just a little crazy - but Jim translated that to mean I'm glad my son has a friend.

And just what, Jim wondered, was he supposed to say to that without embarrassing both of them? He turned several possibilities over in his mind, finally settled on simply nodding and taking a sip from the glass nearest his chair. Tea, as he'd suspected … but not Vulcan. It tasted of chamomile and vanilla.

"Terran tea?" Jim couldn't help asking.

"It was a favorite of Amanda's. I have developed an affinity for it as well."

"Understandable," he said because he had to say something after bringing up what had to be painful memories. "It has a pleasant flavor. Soothing, even."

"Indeed." Sarek took a sip of his own tea, then regarded Jim gravely. "Understand that you are as much a part of my family as Spock."

Jim had to take another sip of his tea to buy himself time to formulate a response to that. Vulcans might not show emotions much, but they damn sure had them, and apparently discussed them in the obliquest of terms, trusting that everyone else would understand what they were really saying.

When"everyone else" were all Vulcan, Jim had no doubt the conversations made perfect sense. But he was human, and he didn't know all the subtleties involved.

Sarek appeared to sense his discomfort - and now Jim was thinking of his own feelings in almost Vulcan terms, apparently - because he changed topics.

"I understand your mother is in Starfleet, also."

"Science officer aboard the Bradbury," Jim said. "She had her pick of postings after the Feynman incident, and chose to serve with Captain Abbott."

"Not with you?"

Only a Vulcan, Jim mused, could have asked that question without accusation.

"No," he said. "We're not close."

Sarek just sipped his tea, but from Spock, Jim would've read the gesture as an invitation to continue, so he did.

"The circumstances of my birth made it difficult for her," he said. "And me, too, when I was old enough to understand. We don't hate each other or anything, but we're more like acquaintances than family."

"The complexities of human relationships remain a mystery to me," Sarek said. "However, if it would not be too difficult for either of you, I would welcome an opportunity to meet her."

"More the complexities of different assignments," Jim muttered. To Sarek's raised eyebrow, he said, "Bradbury and Enterprise aren't often in the same place at the same time. But I'll see if we can arrange leave together, and let you know."

Sarek inclined his head in acknowledgment. Then, after a moment, he added, "Welcome to my family, Jim."

Family? Jim thought, surprised - and then thought that he shouldn't be. Brother, and surely a Vulcan would respect that in all its meanings. There was, really, only one thing to say.

"I am honored to be part of it."

When Jim finally left Sarek's quarters half an hour later, he found himself at odds, not wanting to return to his quarters and at the same time, not wanting to do anything else in particular.

He considered tracking down Bones for… what? A drink and conversation? He'd just had that with Sarek, and there was no way Jim could talk about any of that with Bones. It wasn't just because he had the sense that, as with so many things, Vulcans were very private about bonds in general and t'hy'la bonds in particular. But Bones would tease, and that felt wrong just now.

He considered a game of chess with Spock - either Spock, really - and found those unappealing at the moment, too. His emotions were still too raw, and that rawness too connected to Spock, for him to find any solace or sanctuary with either of them.

The words surprised him, and he turned them over in his mind.

Solace. Sanctuary.

For once, Jim realized, he actually needed to be alone, to absorb all that had just happened, and yet just sitting and thinking didn't come naturally to him.

So he walked.

He walked the corridors of the Enterprise, letting the rhythm of his footsteps, steady and comforting, bring that same feeling to his thoughts.

Or tried to.

The corridors were relatively quiet, this deep into beta shift, but there were still crewmembers going about their duties or off-shift pursuits, and each one greeted him and needed to be greeted in turn, so his thoughts never quite settled.

Where could he go - that wasn't his cabin - to find some quiet?

We are in warp.

The words came with Spock's inflection, and Jim wondered if he'd actually heard them through the bond, or if his subconscious had just chosen to speak to him as if he were Spock.

Either way, he knew where to go.

Not long after Zefram Cochrane invented the warp drive, he also discovered that most humans couldn't tolerate looking at the view outside when a ship was in warp. Their minds simply couldn't process the nothingness they saw, resulting in dizziness and nausea in mild cases, and passing out in the worst cases.

Jim was one of the minority who could observe the warp process without ill effects. Maybe it was compensation for all the allergies he had, or maybe it was because he'd been born among the stars and they would never reject him. Whatever the reason, tonight it meant that he was guaranteed one place that should be empty - the main observation lounge.

The door hissed open, and Jim took three steps before he realized he wasn't alone as he'd expected.

A single figure stood framed against the largest viewport. In the dim light of the observation lounge, Jim could only make out that it was female. He was just stepping back toward the door when the figure turned and spoke.

"Captain Kirk."

He recognized the voice even as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. "Commander Charvanek." Something flashed across her expression that he couldn't quite read, and he added, "My apologies - Ambassador Charvanek."

"No apology necessary," she said. "I just haven't been called Commander in a long while. I'd forgotten what it sounds like."

Jim crossed to where she stood at the waist-high railing that lined the room. "How are you doing?"

"Well enough." Charvanek gave a slight shrug. "Better than I had any expectation of. Building a colony is challenging, satisfying work."

"I hear a but in there."

She looked back out the viewport at the miasma surrounding them. "I miss the stars."

"You took a desk job," Jim said, thinking of his alternate self's words to him. "It's never good for people like us to take desk jobs."

"It was necessary," she said, her tone one of conviction and determination, and Jim found himself respecting her more than he had. "And honorable. I don't regret it - but I would not have chosen it."

Jim silently acknowledged that, and after a moment, something in her presence relaxed, however fractionally.

"You understand," she murmured.

"I hope I would've had the courage to do the same thing."

That made her grin. "You, Captain James T. Kirk, fear you lack courage?"

Jim chuckled and leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone, okay? It'd ruin my reputation."

"Which one?" she countered. "You have several."

Jim studied her a moment. If she'd been human, he'd read the light in her eyes, the tone of her voice, as teasing - maybe even seductive. He matched it. "Whichever one you like."

"I am not one to go quietly through life." For all that the words were a declaration, her voice was soft.

"No," Jim said. "You're not."

"Neither are you." She took a step toward him, bringing her close enough that he could sense the heat of her body against the chill of space beyond the viewport.

"No." Jim swallowed, hard, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Captain -"

"Commander."

Later, Jim wouldn't remember which one of them closed the final distance to bring their lips together, only the sensation of hers hard against his own, fierce and determined, and there was nothing quiet about it.