Star Trek and all associated characters are not mine. Excuse the strange formatting, FF is misbehaving.

Thanks to my beta and to those of you who have supported this fic. Enjoy!

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Chapter 4

His grandmother once told him that beauty and hope could flourish in the darkest of places. Standing at his bedroom window, high above Maxwell's, Terrence Mayweather remembered and cherished her words. From his vantage point, he could see the stubborn growth of a red-flowered weed and the bouncing stride of a young child. For him, the boy, holding tightly to his mother's hand, and that weed, still thriving, personified her words.

He heard a door open and close across the hall. Lu was up, which meant it was time to head for the kitchen. He sat down on his rumpled bed and proceeded to put on his socks and boots. Laces tied he walked out of the airy room and into a wide winding hallway that sported polished wood floors.

In the kitchen, Uhura sat at a circular table, sipping dark, fragrant coffee that was real and not synthesised. Lu was at the stove scrambling eggs of the powdered variety, her short black hair falling onto the sides of her face. Mayweather's stomach chose that moment to demand attention. Luckily, it was a quiet sound.

"Good morning, ladies."

Uhura gave him a tiny smile and murmured an unintelligible reply. It took a full cup of coffee to get her going most mornings. Something he would have never guessed. From afar, she seemed the type to wake every morning perfectly presentable. On occasion, she substituted her coffee for tea. In Mayweather's opinion coffee was best.

Lu waved at him and he saw the bandages covering two slender fingers. Her injuries were minor and easily sealed with a dermal regenerator or dermaseal. However, the resistance had a tradition of leaving a member's first non-threatening injuries to natural healing. Considered a badge of honour, it was preferable to have a lasting scar.

Lu pointed to the pan in front of her and enquired of him, "Do you want some?"

"Sure."

Coffee filled additional mugs and places were set as the three of them sat down to eat in the peaceful early morning. In between forkfuls of breakfast, Lu glanced up at Mayweather. "Can you bring me something pretty when you return?"

Surprised by her request, he placed his utensils atop his plate and looked at her. In all the time they have been acquainted, she never once asked him for anything. "What if my idea of pretty doesn't measure up?"

Lu's dark hazel eyes pinned him, as she replied, "I trust you."

The absolute confidence in her short statement scared him. The last person to put that much faith in him, died. To cover his feelings, he smiled and hoped it looked real. "Supposing, I bring you a present and you hate it? What then?"

She gave a short sigh that was universal to any and every teenager. "I'm not asking for a boyfriend, just something simple and pretty."

Loud coughing interrupted their conversation. It seemed the idea of Lu having a boyfriend had caused Uhura's coffee to go down the wrong way.

"You alright over there, Uhura?" he asked, trying his best to hide the real humour threatening to curve his lips.

"I'm fine," she said and took a sip from the glass of water Lu placed in front of her.

Lu saw the reaction of her companions and grimaced. True, she was sixteen and had never had a boyfriend; nevertheless that was no excuse for their response to her remark. In light of the current crisis, the age of majority had been lowered to seventeen– an age, she was rapidly approaching. "You two are not funny."

Nyota's face smoothed out, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Sorry Lu, it's just that sometimes we forget you're no longer the scrawny thing we first met."

"I was not scrawny!"

"Yes you were." Nyota looked at Terrence with a hint of mischief and added, "Remember how bedraggled she looked the first time you saw her hiding out up here?"

"She was so much less mouthy back then."

"I'm right here, people."

As indignant as Lu felt, she really did not mind their teasing. Ever since Adam died, Terrence and Nyota had been alternating between brooding and anger. She picked up the napkin lying beside her plate, balled it up and hurled it at Terrence. He ducked and started laughing. Nyota joined in and Lu decided that, even if it were at her expense she would laugh too. It was what family did, and she had adopted these two as her family. Nyota was her tough older sister and Terrence was her confessor. She knew he never guessed, but the night she met Terrence, she had been contemplating suicide. In the dark hallway, he had sat next to her and told her of his family. His words changed her outlook and made her feel worthwhile. If he could chose to live then so too could she.

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As was their custom on mornings before Mayweather left Deneva for space, he and Uhura sat down for an evaluation of operations. Lu had left for her job and the sun had chased away the last traces of night. Their first task was a review of the stats on illicit supplies. Some had been stolen from the Vulcans, others smuggled in or made in backrooms. After that, they reviewed recent missions. With a careful eye, Mayweather went over each detailed report Uhura had compiled. He then examined the list of people who had died. In the three months since their last sit-down, there had been an increase in casualties. On a hunch, he pulled up a listing from the past nine months. The spike in assignments gone wrong and dead operatives began seven and a half months ago.

One such operative was a young scientist, Irina Galliulin; surgically altered and psychologically trained to look and behave as a Vulcan because she resembled one of their junior scientists. She had worked aboard a vessel that patrolled the star systems closest to Mentara. Closing her file, Mayweather decided not to think about the fate of the real Vulcan woman she had replaced.

With a sinking feeling, he gave the files another glance over, and then leaned back in his chair to study Uhura. She had secrets and he was unknowingly privy to the biggest one. He kept it to himself because it clarified certain puzzling details. He then considered that many of the other resistance members had secrets of their own. Hell, he had things he too preferred to keep hidden. During initial recruitment efforts, they had intentionally ignored things like criminal backgrounds and mental instability.

Mayweather's right hand slipped below the desk and rested beside his hip. "We have a problem."

Looking up from her computer screen, Uhura asked, "What problem?"

"One of us is a traitor."

She appeared mildly taken aback but not terribly surprised. "I have had a nagging suspicion for a few weeks, which is why the files are now locked with a revolving encryption code."

Now he understood the deliberate misinformation she sometimes gave at meetings. Either way he still had to ask his question, "Is it you?"

A quiet calm descended in the room and settled around her. She fixed her eyes on him and saw what those she had killed must have witnessed before they died. She had hidden the warmth that was Uhura and replaced it with something coldly dangerous. Yet this transformation, a remoulding of her face, did not intimidate him. No matter how scary Uhura looked, he had seen worse.

"How dare you ask me that, mister? You of all people know what I sacrificed the day I agreed to do this job."

"I dare as I please, Uhura, especially after I discovered where you go."

A faint dusky rose flashed across her cheeks and disappeared, but her eyes remained the same. "You followed me?"

"You don't deny it?"

"I will say this to you once, Terrence," she said without the earlier bite in her words. "I am not a traitor, nor do I regret what I have done."

Mayweather exhaled and let his hand drop away from the phaser at his hip. "You play a dangerous game, Nyota."

She started at his use of her first name. In all the years they had known each other, he could count on his fingers the number of times he had called her by it.

"I know what I am doing."

"Let's hope so, for your sake and the rest of us. Because I will kill you, if you give me reason to doubt you."

She smiled. It was not amusing, more a baring of teeth. "Likewise, Terrence."

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After Mayweather left to ensure his cargo was properly boxed and loaded. Uhura went about preparing the bar for today's business. Their conversation remained fresh in her mind, as she resolved to be more discreet. However, her most pertinent concern was that of their mole. She and Mayweather had spent some time going over each name, correlating them with mishaps that had occurred. They knew there was a wide margin for error, but it was a start. No one was above suspicion, although she had four individuals of interest.

Arranging a table, she peeked over the inner swing doors of the bar and to the steel reinforced glass doors just beyond. Since the arrival of the new fleet commander, there was, a permanent increase in the number of soldiers patrolling the streets. She wondered if it was all his doing, or did Administrator Spock have a hand in the change of policy.

She had seen the fleet commander's image in a file and in the flesh two days ago. It was surprising how much he resembled the administrator. What was even more startling was his choice of hairstyles. She had seen some variety on female Vulcans, never the males. It shocked her to see that his hair was long enough to sweep his shoulders. So caught up was she in her observation, she had failed to notice that he too studied her with an unnerving gaze. She got the distinct impression he was sizing her up for something. She had quickly hurried out of the building and into the foggy early morning.

Once her small staff arrived and Maxwell's opened for business, Uhura headed for the local spaceport where small ships landed instead of staying in orbit. She wanted to see Mayweather before he left. She approached the entrance of the port and stated her intentions. The Human guard hardly looked up before ushering her off to the body scanner. When he was satisfied that she did not pose a threat, he allowed her to enter the inner walkway that led to the civilian ships. She found the Helen, just as two Vulcan guards stepped away from the ship.

Mayweather noticed her and came towards the entrance. In his dark pants and physique-hugging beige t-shirt, he looked amazingly good. His skin shone in colour reminiscent of dark bronze and his face displayed angles that made him gorgeously photogenic. Unfortunately, Uhura felt absolutely nothing for him. She appreciated his good looks, intelligence and honesty, but there was no heat. At times, she wished there was something in her capable of reacting to him. She was sure that given enough effort, she would have been able to capture his affections. Loneliness did that to a person.

"Hi," she said, coming to a stop at the top of the short retractable stairs. "You're just about ready for takeoff?"

He leaned against the doorway and folded his arms. "Yeah, everything is loaded and triple-checked."

She smiled at that little inside joke. The Vulcans could check however many times they wanted, there were always means to hide what needed to stay hidden. "Are you going to mention our discussion in your report to the admiral?"

"I have to let him know about the leak."

"I was referring to our other discussion."

"Ah, well, you don't need to worry. I will keep quiet unless you give me reason to do otherwise."

Uhura climbed the final step until she was mere inches from Mayweather. She looked him in the eye and said, "Admiral Barnett knows; as matter of fact he encouraged it."

His features flittered from disbelief to anger, then sadness. She could live with the first two, but not the sadness. It meant he felt sorry for her. She hated it.

"And you agreed?"

"It's the oldest method at our disposal."

Mayweather gazed at her for a full minute, and then he unwound his arms and took her hand his. He gently squeezed her fingers. "Keep yourself safe, Uhura."

"You too." She stepped back and he let go of her hand. She walked down the stairs and all the way to the edge of the walkway before she glanced back at the Helen. The door was closed and Mayweather was nowhere in sight. With a sigh, she continued walking until she left the port.

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I know some of you are anxious to have Spock and Uhura interact. You will get your wish in chapter 6. Your thoughts are important, so leave a comment and let me know what you think.