A/N: Hi all! I'm trying to keep the Author's Notes brief as I tend to get a little wordy (and I don't want to give anything away). I know this is angsty and depressing but I hope you like the story anyway so far and that you'll keep up with it! Take care and (as always) reviews are greatly appreciated!

Chapter 2

U.S.S. Enterprise, 2277.126, 1058 hours. Jim was beginning to grow nervous. Most everyone was gathered for Uhura's funeral but Spock, T'Alora, Se'tak and Selas had yet to appear. He'd thought about collecting them himself but every time he resolved to go he remembered Bones' story about Spock's wailing and he backed down like a coward. When he asked, Wendy informed him that T'Alora was taking care of it and he had to trust that the teen had her father well in hand or else he'd have to run the show without them.

Still, the fact that his ever-punctual First might actually be late for his own wife's memorial service was upsetting.

He saw Sulu approach the framed picture of Uhura to the right of the dais and roughly brush away the tears as he lit a stick of incense in her memory. Watching his pilot perform this simple, reverent gesture in honor of their friend made him want to start crying again too. However, Jim choked the tears back down and looked at the old-fashioned note cards he had on the podium, focusing instead on the speech he had to give; the speech he hated giving, no matter who the decedent was.

Clearing his throat and about to begin he glanced up in time to see Spock and his kids enter the crowded room, his crew parting for them like the Red Sea.

After his outburst Spock fought for control. When he felt he was well enough he rose from his bed, brushed his hair and teeth, shaved, and dressed in the mourning robes that T'Alora had brought. She stood silently and helped him into his outer jacket when he was ready, carefully straightening the lapels with their elaborately embroidered family crest, then turned and walked out of the room.

He found Christine waiting for them in the middle of the nearly empty Sickbay with Se'tak and Selas on either side. Both boys were also appropriately attired, no doubt also thanks to their sister. Christine attempted to speak to him and failed each time until she quit the room altogether, too upset to keep up the pretense that she was feeling otherwise.

Spock stepped forward and examined each of his children: of the three of them T'Alora was the most composed. Se'tak did not bear the inspection well, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at him, while Selas hid behind his dark glasses, his small hands trembling as he held his cane. The whole time not one of them made a single sound.

They were a credit to their mother and an honor to her memory-that much feeling he let slip out to them across the bond-and then he snapped it shut. Any more such contact and his feebly braced shields would break and everyone would know what a weak wretch he was. He was a Vulcan and would conduct himself as such even in the face of this harsh reality. His people had survived the extermination of 86% of their species with many of the survivors losing their bond-mates to Nero's madness; in spite of such loss they still endured. He knew that he too would survive.

But only just.

Wordlessly, Spock turned on his heel and exited the room knowing the children would follow. Were she present Nyota would be appalled at his behavior and concerned for his own well-being but she was not there and, given the current circumstances, he believed he was performing as optimally as possible.

As his family entered the Rec Room where his adun'a's funeral service was being held all conversation amongst the rest of the crew ceased. He felt their gazes cling to him and follow his progress down the aisle as if of their own accord and still no one uttered a word. Spock saw the four seats waiting for them in the front row right next to the Captain's family; Doctor McCoy and his wife and children had claimed seats on the opposite side. He thought he saw a hypospray ready and waiting in the good Doctor's hand in the event that he should lose control again and almost allowed himself a lapse just so he could once again slip into oblivion; however, he would not do that to the children on this most solemn of days.

They soon took their designated seats and the other crewmembers settled into their own. With a nod in his direction the Captain began the service. It was then that Spock noticed the white urn placed in front of the podium containing his adun'a's ashes.

He held his breath, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments. He would survive…he would survive…he would survive…

"Three days ago, in a tragic accident, we lost one of our own. Today we're here to mourn the loss of Lieutenant Commander Nyota Uhura and celebrate her life. She was a daughter, sister, and friend; she was Commander Spock's wife and mother to three very special kids, T'Alora, Se'tak and Selas. She was a vivacious woman and a skilled linguist. I think you'll all agree when I say she was…" Kirk faltered in his speech, gripping the podium for extra support, "She was the very best of all of us. We've lost a member of our family today and a great shining star."

U.S.S. Enterprise, 2277.126, 1143 hours. Though he did his best not to hover during the reception Len made sure to keep the Commander and his family in his sights. Spock still hadn't uttered a single word.

"How's he holdin' up, Bones?"

Jim pressed a drink into his hands and though he was grateful for the bourbon he scowled. "I don't know. You tell me, Jim, because I can't read him worth a damn. The only one that ever could…"

"…was Uhura," they finished simultaneously. Each grimaced and Len attempted to down his drink in one go-anything to help take the sting off his pain. "Everything's going to have to change now," he segued.

"I know," Jim replied.

"Have you thought about who you're going to make your new First Officer?"

He fidgeted and took another sip of his drink, never looking him straight in the eye. "I've got a short list."

It was a fact of the new reality they all found themselves in that the Enterprise was facing it's first true test of hierarchical upheaval. They thought they'd gone through growing pains before when Chekov was replaced by McKeon but there'd been talk off and on over the years of him and his family coming back for their next tour. Now though, with Nyota gone, their old way of life was really over.

Len knew he didn't want to admit it out loud but Jim simply couldn't (and wouldn't) in good conscience keep Spock, now a single parent, in the second-most prominent and dangerous position on the ship. He'd demote him so that the Commander would be relegated to his science labs, rarely seeing the broadside of a new planet unless it was under a microscope or as part of a third or fourth tier away team. With T'Alora, Se'tak and Selas still so young Jim wouldn't even risk sneezing in Spock's direction lest he make him sick and kill him and the kids all end up orphans.

He just wondered how Jim would break the news to Spock.

"She tried explaining it to me once."

Len shook his head out of the clouds. "Who tried explaining what?"

"Uhura." He followed Jim's gaze as it rested on Spock, standing encircled by crew and yet apart from them, both in his dress and in his bearing. "After his grandmother died I asked her to tell me what a Vulcan funeral was like. She did, but…there was a lot of talk of katras, physical and metaphysical journeys, religious-sounding Vulcan-type stuff that I just didn't understand. I keep wondering if we're offending him now somehow or if his suddenly going mute is one of his traditions or…"

"Jim," he said more sharply then he intended. "You ever think that maybe this isn't a Vulcan or a human thing we're seeing here?" As he spoke the thought gained even more traction. "Maybe this is just how Spock grieves for her, logic and ritual be damned."

"Maybe," Jim concurred as Taline sidled up beside him. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Maybe."

U.S.S. Enterprise, 2277.126, 1316 hours. After the service they all returned home and Sa-mekh placed the urn with Mama's ashes up on the bookshelf. The four of them stared at it for a moment, Se'tak thinking how unnatural and yet how right it was that she was home with them again, when Sa-mekh went and changed out of his robes and into a sweater and a pair of slacks. When he came back out of the bedroom he began moving around the apartment as if it were just a regular day off and everything were normal; as if Mama never even existed.

The anger flared up within him again.

During the service he never saw Sa-mekh get upset or cry-not once!-and that bothered him. Even T'Alora cried a little bit and she was the most Vulcan out of the three of them. Didn't Mama mean anything to him? T said he spent all that time in Sickbay in a trance trying to heal the broken bond. Was that it then? Was he healed and now it was all over and done with?

Se'tak looked back up at the urn even as he could sense his sister's disapproving eyes. Move on. It was what Sa-mekh was doing, what he apparently wanted them all to do. How come everybody else was able to forget her so easily? Couldn't anyone see how lost he was without Mama? Nobody understood him like she did or loved him like she had. Mama'd been there to help calm him down whenever his feelings tried to get the better of him and even the few times when they did she never judged him.

Just then he watched Sa-mekh walk across the room to collect a few PADDs before heading back toward the home office. Not once did he even acknowledge Se'tak's presence. It was all business as usual.

In that moment Se'tak snapped. He loved and respected his Sa-mekh but now that emotion quickly turned to hate. He began to wish that Sa-mekh had been the one to visit the surface and die in Mama's place.

U.S.S. Enterprise, 2277.126, 2030 hours. The children retired early that evening, only Selas requiring his presence during his nightly routine, and once he knew them to be asleep he pulled the urn with Nyota's ashes down off the wall and carried it over to the computer. He had been yearning for her nearness all day but would not risk upsetting the children with his continued illogical behavior.

"You would not approve of my chosen course of action, k'diwa," he said to himself as he sat down. "But I find my thoughts are fixed on obtaining this information." Spock hesitated .4 seconds before queuing up the reports as if expecting her retort; and in an odd way he believed her silence to be a reply all it's own. "As I had previously stated, you would not approve of my chosen course of action." Taking a deep breath he looked away from the urn and back up towards the screen.

There were only three official reports filed on the incident so far, not counting the addendum depositions, data-readings and test results. They were listed according to rank: the Captain's account followed by Doctor McCoy's autopsy results and lastly Security Chief Giotto's on-going investigation. It was a curious thing, knowing his wife was dead yet not the manner in which she had died. The only fact he knew for certain was that Nyota's death had been swift, which was as merciful for her as it had been hellish for him.

He pulled open the Captain's findings and read through them first, starting with the orders they received from Command and ending with the discovery of the Lieutenant Commander's smoky remains. The conclusion that was reached was that Nyota had unwittingly tripped a security device and been incinerated on site.

Despite having the regulatory ability to control such things Spock shuddered. It was not how she should have died. She should have passed away peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by their children and grandchildren. She should have died of old age. And although it was inevitable given their differing biologies she should not have gone before him.

The next report he read was Chief Giotto's; in it the Chief included statements taken from the Captain, Commander Sulu, Lieutenant Burgess, Lieutenant Dree, Lieutenant Singh, Ensign Caxl and Ensign Porter. All reported feeling what they described as a minor earthquake roughly 30 seconds before the alarm was raised; but it was Burgess' account that Spock found most upsetting. In it, the Lieutenant repeated six times how he had broken regulations in order to retrieve a hand spanner that had inadvertently been left in another chamber, thereby leaving the Lieutenant Commander alone at the time the device had gone off.

The statistical likelihood that Lieutenant Burgess' presence in the chamber would have yielded a more positive result that morning was 1.338%. It was much more likely-95.46% to be precise-that he would have also been killed in the line of duty had he been in the room. That knowledge, however, did not negate his culpability in the matter as far as Spock was concerned.

There was also the discrepancy between Nyota's last known location within the room and the location of her ashes. Lieutenant Burgess reported leaving her studying the markings along the southwestern side of the room, yet her remains were found along the northeast wall. She had told him early on how she believed the Unohdettu glyphs were meant to be read.

"It's similar to early Terran Egyptian hieroglyphics," Nyota informed him, sitting on the end of the bed as she tugged off her boots, "Only there seem to be more biliterals and determinatives then there are actual letters, at least as we know them. I've been able to translate five so far and I've put Caxl and Singh together to see if they can't create an algorithm to help me use that information on the biliterals and see if we can't find more letters that way. It's incredibly slow going but it's so exciting! Think of it, a whole new language!"

That conversation had taken place seven days prior to her death. Though she had unearthed more useful information in the interim it was Spock's understanding that great time and care were taken in deciphering each marking-meaning that she would not necessarily have had cause to traverse the 5.8 meter space in the 76 second interval between Burgess' vacating the room and his return.

Even as he considered the possibilities he knew he was futilely 'grasping at straws'. At moments like this he desperately wanted to hear her tease, "You're being illogical, Ashayam."

In a subscript Spock noted that while the investigation remained underway the cavern itself was still sealed off per order of the Chief. The thick bedrock of gernadomite made it difficult for sensors from the Enterprise to accurately scan the room and Giotto did not want any other crew to inadvertently trip the device and suffer the same fate as Nyota. It was a wise move and yet the least helpful in terms of providing him with answers.

The final brief contained the autopsy report. Doctor McCoy was unable to retrieve DNA but the composition of the ash-which was predominantly calcium phosphate, sodium, potassium and carbonate-allowed him to certify that the remains were human. It was therefore logical to believe they were Nyota's.

His eyes glossed over the rest as it made his heart ache to read anymore.

With a start he realized that 6.15 hours had passed since he sat down. The children would awaken and require his time and attention…and although he had slept much over the last three days he was still exhausted, the force of feeling and restraining so much emotion catching up with him. Loathe as he was to do it Spock returned the urn to the bookshelf then crawled back into the bedroom he had shared with his wife for the last 17.34 years. Letting his clothes fall where they may he collapsed on Nyota's side of the bed and buried his face in her pillow. He was not at all ashamed when it soon became damp with his tears.