Chapter 11
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.167, 0003 hours. His throbbing hands trembled as he paced. Knocking over the upturned coffee table and chairs in his path Spock stalked the length of the room, his unbridled emotions making him feel like a caged animal. Jade bruises dotted his arms and emerald blood oozed under the white dermaplasts on his palms.
In the background the door chime rang on and on and on…
Meritani Colony, Stardate 2261.166, 1630 hours. "Where is the Lieutenant?"
Shielding his eyes from the sun Jim looked up into his First's face. He looked as calm and cool as ever, his only concession to the heat being the careful precision with which he rolled up his sleeves, and Jim suspected that had more to do with him wanting to bask in the warmth of the dry weather rather than escape it. Everyone around them was in various states of undress as they'd been unloading supplies and helping set-up equipment on the Meritani colony all afternoon in almost triple digit temperatures; even he tossed off his regulation shirt which was now little more than a sweat-soaked rag. With the sun slowly starting to set everyone was finally getting a reprieve.
Turning away he surveyed the rest of the crew cooling off under the tent, Bones darting around wielding hypos and griping at everyone about the dangers of heat stroke. Jim could easily spot over a dozen lieutenants but knew that none of them were the one Spock sought.
Suddenly he snapped his fingers as he remembered. "She offered to watch the kids since we wouldn't let her do any heavy lifting. I think she said something about taking them to play on the other side of the compound so they wouldn't be underfoot while we helped set-up for the evening meal."
Spock nodded and strode off through the settlement at a brisk clip; it took all Jim had not to chuckle after him.
The Meritani colony was well into it's third generation and thriving—the children were a testament to that—and she could see why. Although far out in the Beta quadrant everything about Meritani harkened of home. She reveled in the heat and humidity and the dust sticking to her shins; even little Otto, the four—no, four and a quarter, she thought with a laugh—year old boy with green eyes and caramel skin who clung to her side like a shadow reminding her of her nephew, Jumoke.
She made a mental note to check in with Mama and Baba later on to help ease her homesickness.
"Nyny!" Otto cried, pointing to the ball coming her way. With one hand supporting her stomach she trotted forward, catching and dribbling the ball between her ankles before spotting Annie on the other end of the field. A mighty kick sent it straight toward the shy girl and in horror Annie kicked it away again—and right into the waiting net for the tying goal.
A chorus of cheers and groans went around the crowd of children.
"Good job," the little boy said, hugging her leg in approval.
She looked down into his face and grinned. "Thank you, Nyuki*."
He giggled uproariously, his laughter infectious. "You're funny, Nyny. Can you stay with us? You can have my top bunk!"
He was so sincere she felt bad saying no. Nyota laughed and rubbed the top of his curly head, gently guiding him back across the field as the older children moved into position again. "I'm afraid I can't. My ship needs me."
The little boy pouted until a new idea struck. "Then can I come too? I can help with the baby! Mama says I'm a big helper!"
Again, how could she say no to that cherubic, wide-eyed face? "And I believe that, Kidogo Nyuki. Maybe in a few years, when you're older, you can join Starfleet and go to the Academy like I did; then maybe we'll be posted on a ship together."
"Really? You promise?"
She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "You can do anything you set your mind to."
Otto wrapped his tiny arms around her. "I love you, Nyny."
"I love you too."
She looked up in time to catch Spock observing them from the far corner of the field.
The herd of children swerved in time with the ball, laughing and shrieking as they raced until one kicked it toward Lieutenant Uhura.
"Nyny!" the small boy at her side alerted her and she graced him with a smile.
Spock recognized that the Lieutenant had a unique way with children, more so than other humans of his acquaintance, and he knew she would be an excellent mother—just like his own mother had been to him. This knowledge reassured him that despite the less-than-ideal circumstances surrounding the child's birth it's life would be a good one.
He was lost in his own thoughts until a high-pitched voice carried on the wind and caught his attention. "Then can I come too? I can help with the baby! Mama says I'm a big helper!"
"And I believe that, Kidogo Nyuki. Maybe in a few years, when you're older, you can join Starfleet and go to the Academy like I did; then maybe we'll be posted on a ship together."
"Really? You promise?"
The Lieutenant leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "You can do anything you set your mind to."
"I love you, Nyny."
"I love you too."
He watched her bend over and return the child's hug. As she straightened up their eyes locked from across the field, sending a pang of regret shooting through his side.
It was almost unfair how a small child had the ability to say so easily that which his Vulcan sensibilities would not allow. Even were she not married he would find it difficult to allude to the sentiments that filled his heart and mind in her presence. With a bond there would be no need to say such things and were the Lieutenant his he would ensure she felt his affection for her everyday better than any dozen languages could ever convey.
Spock watched her take another turn about the field, calling teasingly to the children and jogging after the ball with one hand cradling her abdomen, before he turned on his heel to leave. Despite his exertions he no longer had any appetite for food nor any patience to endure prolonged human company.
He was halfway to the designated beam-up point when he heard the first panicked screams coming from the playing field.
They were all going to have very big appetites tonight, she was sure of it, just as she knew she would need a very long sonic shower to get all the dust off that they'd managed to kick up. Still, Nyota was more content now than she had been in weeks.
"BAS-ZOUNDS! BAS-ZOUNDS!"
Bas-zounds? Their frightened screams made her turn around and she found herself face-to-face with a pack of Basilisk hounds slowly creeping up on them out of the woods.
This was wrong—this was all wrong. She'd read about the creatures in their de-briefing packet; the yellow-eyed, hyena-like predators with the porcupine spikes were native to the area but they were nocturnal. There'd been a few run-ins in the early years of the settlement but now the creatures hardly ever encroached upon the colony's boundaries and never in broad daylight.
Unless…
Another look at the pack leader confirmed her suspicions. The Alpha's eyes were blood-shot and he was frothing at the mouth; he was rabid. She took in the children—all running for their lives—only to see Annie frozen on the edge of the field nearest the animals with a wet stain spreading through the crotch of her pants. Nyota knew none of them would make it; the hounds were moving slowly only so they could further terrorize their prey. They had the speed advantage and not a single child there would be able to run fast enough or far enough to make it to the adults in time.
But she could give them that time.
Hurrying toward Annie she broke the girl out of her shock and pushed her in the direction of safety then ran towards the white-painted rocks lining the field, scooping one up and hefting it at the pack. An animal in the rear roared and broke formation to lick his wounds as she drew blood. The rest of the group looked to him then closed ranks, sensing the greater threat she presented and advancing on her with no thought for the fleeing children.
She could tell by the look in the Alpha's eyes that she was going to die; whether it'd be a swift death or slow and painful was anybody's guess. The only thing steeling Nyota's resolve was the knowledge that her sacrifice would save twenty-seven young lives—twenty-eight when she realized Spock would never know the grief of losing a wife and child. Grabbing up another rock she quickly ran a hand over her stomach as the tears streamed down her face. "I'm sorry, Mtoto*."
The next hit missed, skittering on the ground near the Alpha's feet, and she could've sworn she saw the creature sneer at her poor aim. All five followed her now as she led them back toward the woods making sure to keep herself between the pack and the children. Scooping up another rock this time she held it fast as little more than a meter separated her from the foul-smelling beasts.
"NYNY!"
Alarmed she looked up to find Otto standing half a field away, his cries drawing the animal's attentions back to the kids.
"NO!" Nyota lunged on the offensive and repeatedly bashed the nearest creature in the skull as hard as she could. "RUN! RUN!" He darted off, his little legs carrying him away as fast as they could.
The beast she'd bludgeoned swatted back and drew several long angry gashes down the length of her arm. She gnashed her teeth to keep from crying out and held tight to the rock as it slowly turned slick and red with her blood. The group encircled Nyota now and with a cocky grin plastered to his slobbering face the leader howled long and loud, his cries whipping the rest into a drunken frenzy; the beasts, all giddy off the high of the Alpha's illness, jockeyed for position and licked their lips as they eyed their tasty meal.
She couldn't keep an eye on them all and the one behind her latched onto her calf, it's teeth sinking so deep into her leg she thought it hit bone. The pain tore a g-dawful scream from her throat as she fell to her knees trembling with adrenaline and pain; the pack laughed, thinking her beaten, when she kicked back with her good leg and hit him in the windpipe. The blow sent the Bas-zound skittering away and struggling for air.
The group wasn't expecting their meal to fight back and as one they snarled and pounced on her, crushing her on her side with their weight. Desperately she clutched her belly and pounded on the paw of the nearest Bas-zound with her rock, kicking the one at her feet back with all the strength that she had.
A new roar echoed overhead and for a split-second she feared it was the Alpha swooping in for the kill. Closing her eyes tight she felt a great rush of air when suddenly the weight of all three Bas-zounds was lifted. Another deep snarl sounded overhead. The blood and sweat in her eyes made it difficult to see but as she looked up she saw the twilight accentuate two very pointed ears.
His heart pounded as he approached the throng of children running in a panic awayfrom the playing field without Lieutenant Uhura. Spock stopped the first child, a human boy approximately twelve years of age, and held him fast by the shoulders.
"What is happening?"
"Basilisk hounds," he replied breathlessly, eyes darting over his shoulder in fear. "Six of 'em."
Spock's alarm increased ten-fold as he released the child and sprinted toward the field. The Basilisk hounds were deadly creatures. One would not want to come up against one in the middle of the night let alone an entire pack; it also went against the animal's nature to attack in broad daylight, indicating that something else altogether was wrong.
Soon he came upon the little boy he had seen earlier with the Lieutenant. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stopped and started, trotting back to the field only to stop short and head back in the opposite direction. Spock picked him up under the arms and held the distressed boy an arm's length away as he squirmed for release.
"Lemme go! Gotta help Nyny!" he screamed. "BAS-ZOUNDS! BAS-ZOUNDS!"
"I will assist the Lieutenant. Return to the settlement and alert the other adults to the danger. Go." Given explicit instructions the child was no sooner set on his feet than he sprinted off toward the community center to raise the alarm.
A piercing howl followed by a blood-curdling scream re-directed Spock's attention to the field. Seconds later he was finally within sight of Lieutenant Uhura and found her curled on the ground struggling against the weight of three large animals while a fourth sat back and watched.
In that moment his entire field of vision turned red and a millennia's old urge was awakened.
"AAAARRRRRR!"
Spock grabbed the beasts by the scruff of their necks and tossed them away, searing pain shooting up his arms as he tore the sensitive flesh of his hands. Crouched in defense he placed himself between her and the creatures with a warning snarl emitting from the back of his throat. The remnants of the pack he slung off fell behind the leader while the Alpha sized him up; Spock could see the madness in his eyes and knew the creature was ill.
The tense stand-off lasted less than a second before each lunged at the other, the Alpha pulling himself up on two feet to try and bowl Spock over while sinking his teeth into his shoulder. Spock maneuvered away from his jaw and planted his hands squarely on the beast's chest, keeping him upright and knocking off his equilibrium. The hound growled and swatted again and again for release, scratching and bruising Spock's arms as he held fast. The three remaining hounds encroached on the pair but the Alpha snarled and they immediately fell back into line; he'd made it clear that this was his fight and his alone.
Knocking the creature away the Basilisk hound tumbled end over end before landing upright some three yards away even angrier than before. Behind him Spock listened for Lieutenant Uhura; she gasped and hissed in pain as she struggled to get to her feet but at least he knew she was momentarily safe.
"SPOCK!"
A fifth creature approached after circling back through the woods, attempting to surprise him. With a quick step Spock swiveled out of the way and caught the beast in a chokehold, the Basilisk hound struggling in his mighty grip until he snapped it's neck. The animal fell to the ground with a dull thud, his comrades slinking back further as they looked on in shock; only the Alpha remained unperturbed. With another mighty roar the beast charged and Spock snarled, digging his heels into the ground until the last second when he spun around and connected his heel with the side of the animal's head, knocking him off course in a daze. The Alpha stumbled and tried to shake off his double vision.
The animal was as outraged as Spock now. Every prior move had been calculated but this time the beast flew at him in blind fury, twisting himself in mid-air and swiping at Spock's face.
The Commander felt the tear on his cheek and reached up to inspect it, smudging the blood on his skin. Across from him the beast roared in triumph.
Each knew it was either kill or be killed. Time was running short; the pack was getting restless and the faint cries of the humans could be heard approaching from the town. With another mighty roar the Alpha launched itself at Spock, baring a menacing row of gleaming white, sharp teeth. Twisting himself about the Vulcan caught him by the chops and held him tight even as the spikes pressed deep into his chest. He felt himself smile as he forced the Basilisk hound's jaw beyond the breaking point, the sharp crack of bone echoing around the field. A whimper broke free before he snapped the Alpha's neck, silencing the beast forever.
Spock tossed the lifeless body alongside the other carcass without a second thought. The pack looked from the victor to their leader once, twice, before howling and fleeing to the woods. Spock stood hunched over, his chest heaving from the fight and eyes scanning the battlefield mindful of another attack. The stench of two dead Basilisk hounds clung to him, mixing with the copper tang of his blood and filling his nostrils. He was only dimly aware of the cut below his eye and the ragged and torn flesh of his hands and torso; the sensations were forced to the background of conscious thought as he sought out Lieutenant Uhura. She stood shakily on her uninjured leg some two meters before him, eying the carcasses before craning her neck toward the sound of human cries promising help.
He had fought for her; Spock had fought for her and won and in a moment of unrestrained passion reached out and pulled her too him, biting down hard on the skin at the crook of her neck to claim his prize.
He thought he felt her sink in relief into his embrace.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.166, 2341 hours. It had been her plan to return to her quarters only to change out of her bloodied uniform before confronting Spock.
She had no idea just how much she'd hurt him—how much she'd tortured him really—until that afternoon when she saw his thoughts.
The comm. chime was fairly screaming as she stepped into her quarters and with every intention of ignoring it made her way across to the bedroom only to glance at the New Vulcan address on screen. Sarek could not be ignored.
Combing her loose hair around her shoulders to hide the bruise at her collarbone, Nyota tucked her bandaged arm and leg out of view and answered the call. Whatever her father-in-law wanted or needed she hoped he would be brief.
"Greetings, Sarek. To what…"
"Spock is in danger."
Her heart sped up. Danger? What could he know about Meritani? And more importantly, what did he know about Spock that she didn't? Before she could ask Sarek answered her. "I sensed his distress through the bond; his emotions are running rampant and his pain is so great I mistook it for my own. After attempting to reach him for 53 minutes he answered only to terminate the communication 38.4 seconds later. He has ignored all other calls. Once again he is refusing all my offers of assistance.
"He is not well, Nyota. His mood and behavior are similar to that of men in plak tow. I do not know what brought about these changes but the longer he remains in this state the more agitated he becomes; if you do not go to Spock soon the damage to his mind will be more grievous than his previous injury."
She looked away from the screen to try and hide her increasing guilt. Sarek needn't have called—after the evening's events she knew she'd nearly driven his son to the brink of madness.
"JIM, I said keep pressure on that leg!"
"I'M TRYING!"
She listened to her crewmates work attempt to stabilize her as if from outside her own body. Somewhere in the distance she heard Len mention 'blood loss' and 'shock'. Glancing around she saw Spock standing stiffly off to the side keeping a close eye on her, his irises black as night. Even though her body was a giant mass of pain she still tried to bring a hand up to her collarbone to feel whether or not she imagined the mark he left.
Spock stopped her before she ever got the chance.
He stepped forward and took her hand, holding it gently in his own before easing her arm back down by her side. She could feel him dimly through their skin-to-skin contact but he was blocking his thoughts, trying to distance himself even though he still held fast to her wrist. She tried to send him some reassurance and help him open up the bond but it was difficult; her head ached and his shields were too much for her to penetrate when she was this weak.
"Hoichi, take the Commander and get some dermaplasts on his hands, will you?"
No! NO! She was scared and clutched at Spock in a panic. "Hakuna! Wala kuondoka kwangu, wala kuondoka kwangu!"*
"Easy Ny, you're alright," McCoy said. She could feel him patting along the wet, sticky side of her abdomen, one touch in particular making her see stars.
"Mtoto…" she said with a groan. A tear slid down her cheek.
Kirk shifted his grip on her bloodied leg and she cried out. "Sorry." The pressure eased somewhat but was still unbearable. "Anybody know what she's saying?"
"I know it's Swahili," Christine answered, "I recognize it but I don't…"
"The Lieutenant does not wish for me to leave," Spock swiftly replied, "And she is anxious about the child."
More pressure on her leg as Jim leaned forward. Only she and Spock knew he spoke Swahili—that he'd learned it for her—but that had also been forgotten; or so she thought. How he recollected it now was anyone's guess. "Since when do you speak Swahili?" the Captain asked.
Spock looked equally confused. "I do not know." Len moved from her abdomen to her leg and she tried to look down and see what he was doing; instead she caught sight of Spock's hand. Copious amounts of his blood coated her skin and his uniform shirt was torn and clinging to the wounds on his chest. It was wrong of her to keep him here when he must be in so much pain…
"Ninasikitika. Wewe ni waliojeruhiwa, unahitaji matibabu. Kugo."*
"Sitawaacha ninyi. Mimi kamwe kuondoka."*
Len twisted her leg to set it right and this time she couldn't stop the cry that burst forth; in that same instant Spock's shields dropped and she was inundated with his struggle to contain his desire and concern. He wanted take away all her pain even at the cost of his own relief but even more overwhelming than that was his wish that she was his. Spock hardly remembered a thing about their lives together and yet he…he…
…he still loved her.
And he was being driven crazy by his feelings for her.
She slipped into unconsciousness a second later.
Nyota couldn't undo the things she saw and the memories that kept playing over and over in her head. Now she understood—all those nights spent talking, the moments he remembered from the Academy that she thought were insignificant he remembered because she had been his primary focus. She'd felt Spock's joy these last few weeks whenever she was in his presence and his pain whenever she was brusque with him.
How hard he'd worked all this time trying to keep his feelings for her in check, thinking them unseemly not because he was Vulcan but because he thought she was married to another!
Nyota couldn't believe how much she'd hurt him, how cruel she'd been when she meant to be kind.
Looking back to the screen she met Sarek's eyes. "I'll go to him. Don't worry, sa-mekh, it'll be alright." Unthinkingly she brought her bandaged hand up to terminate the call.
"You are injured. Nyota what has hap—…?"
The screen went black and she gingerly rose and walked out of the room, forgetting all about her soiled clothing and limping lest she re-injure her leg.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.166, 2350 hours. He was a disgrace. He was a wretch and a disgrace. How could he have marked her like that? His father would not have to do anything, he would declare himself V'tosh ka'tur* and save his family the trouble. The only shame the clan would have to face was that Sarek had sired not one but two illogical sons.
He pictured her again, lying on the backboard looking so fragile and lost, reaching up to feel the marks on her neck—marks that he left and that were worse than any Basilisk hound's.
Spock shook in disgust and paced the length of the room for the 58th time in the last 7.23 hours. Once Lieutenant Uhura lost consciousness he recognized the need to distance himself from her physically; and despite Doctor McCoy's and Captain Kirk's protests he refused medical treatment and locked himself in his quarters the minute they were aboard. A healing trance would have helped minimize most of the damage but he was too agitated and so treated his wounds as best he could, utilizing an old bed sheet for his torso and dermaplasts on his hands; however, the bandages were only meant to be a stop-gap measure and without a dermal regenerator his pals would scar.
No matter. If he allowed that to happen then it would be yet further proof that he was indeed without logic.
He needed to think but his current state made coherent thought difficult. First and foremost Spock knew he would have to resign his commission effective immediately and be transferred off the ship; it was not safe for him to be among the crew and Lieutenant Uhura in particular. Next he would make arrangements to travel to New Vulcan for an audience with T'Pau to be officially declared unfit. After that…
The chime began to sound again and he snarled at the door. If Doctor McCoy had returned to check on his condition than the physician would be sorely disappointed. Calling upon the last vestiges of his waning self-control Spock willfully ignored the door and set about composing his letter of resignation from Starfleet.
Fifteen minutes later and with his patience gone he stormed across the room to confront his incessant visitor only to come face-to-face with Lieutenant Uhura. Too stunned to speak Spock watched her brush past him without a word, the door closing shut behind her. This was dangerous ground they were treading. He trembled with desire and forced himself to remain as near the exit as possible in case he needed to make a strategic retreat.
"You should not be here."
"No," she whispered. "You're probably right." Good; she finally understood the threat he presented to her future happiness and well-being. However, the Lieutenant did not move from the spot and instead struggled to pry the wedding band off her finger; when it was done she closed the gap between them and attempted to hand over the ring. "But there's something you need to see first. Read the inscription."
"You should not be here," he warned her.
"No," she readily conceded. "You're probably right."
Her heart pounded in her chest and for the first time since arriving Nyota forgot her own fear as she looked at Spock's hands. The skin was still torn to shreds despite the bandages and if left untreated it would scar, severely disabling his telepathic ability. He never would've let that happen before; to cripple himself like that was completely illogical. She bit hard on her lower lip thinking of the pain he must be in, pain she had caused, and was torn between dragging him to sickbay and explaining herself. Choosing the latter lest she lose her nerve Nyota held the ring out to him but he refused to take it.
"But there's something you need to see first," she urged. "Read the inscription."
Reluctantly he extended his palm, back still against the wall, and Nyota dropped the sacred jewel without touching him. Giving him space she walked over towards the viewport with tears brimming in her eyes as she wondered how he might receive her—how he might receive them.
Spock turned the gold band over in his hand to better read the inscription. The ring looked familiar and yet not. Right now his mind was running in a thousand different directions and he could not place it.
Ek t'nash-veh ashau—ek t'nash-veh ha'kiv, 2259.365.*
He looked up in alarm and found her staring out the window. She was bonded to a Vulcan, most likely a diplomat she had met through his own father's sphere of influence; this was worse than he could have imagined. Not only had he challenged another man for his wife but he had challenged another Vulcan for his bondmate. Spock was strong and resourceful but in a fight against a full-blooded and bonded Vulcan he would lose.
Then again, however unsettling the thought might be, death would be preferable to living and losing her.
"You are bonded to a Vulcan?"
"Yes," she replied. She sounded like she was choking. "My husband is half-Vulcan…and half-Human."
She turned to face him just as his breath caught in his throat.
*Nyuki / Kidogo Nyuki = Swahili for Little Bee
*Mtoto = Swahili for baby
*plak tow = Vulcan biological condition rendering one in a 'blood fever'
*Hakuna! Wala kuondoka kwangu, wala kuondoka kwangu! = Swahili, "No! Do not leave me, do not leave me!"
*Ninasikitika. Wewe ni waliojeruhiwa, unahitaji matibabu. Kugo = Swahili, "I'm sorry. You're wounded, you need treatment. Go."
* Sitawaacha ninyi. Mimi kamwe kuondoka = Swahili, "I will not leave you. I will never leave you."
* V'tosh ka'tur = Vulkhansu for One Without Logic
*Ek t'nash-veh ashau—ek t'nash-veh ha'kiv, 2259.365 = Vulkhansu, 'All my love—all my life, followed by their wedding date.