Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters are not mine.

Beta: Spocklovescats

Chapter 9

"I can't meet with you tonight," Uhura stated firmly, her eyes and fingers focussed on wrapping the gift she had bought the previous day.

From the screen mounted on her bedroom wall, Spock asked, "Why not after the party?"

For a Vulcan, Spock could exhibit a number of needy traits. "I mentioned to you that I might be skipping tonight's appointment." She laughed inwardly, appointment indeed.

"Might being the operative word," he replied, his voice smooth and cultured. She loved feeling it echo across her skin with promises of what he intended to do.

Uhura wondered if this was going to be a problem. Spock could be hard and exacting when he wanted something and he always wanted her. "A word that also inferred my potential absence from your side tonight," she said, in an appeal to his logic.

He was silent for a bit, then, "I am open to a compromise."

She placed a thumb atop the half-wrapped box and looked at the screen. She couldn't be sure but he looked close to scowling. "I've already suggested this weekend."

"I would prefer tonight, Nyota; however, tomorrow night would be an acceptable alternative."

"I'm available, so it's a date then?" She smiled when she saw his frown smoothed out.

"Agreed, and Nyota?"

"Yes?"

"Please wear red when you visit."

Before she could respond to his surprising request, Spock reached forward and terminated the transmission. That was a new kink to their pseudo-relationship. She was not aware that he preferred her in certain colours. A mischievous smile touched her lips. He had been sloppy. Not specifying what article of clothing should be red left many potential choices. Uhura returned to her gift-wrapping as she decided exactly what was going to be red tomorrow night.

-Later that evening

"Surprise!" they all shouted in unison.

A number of resistance members had gathered to celebrate Lu's seventeenth birthday. It was official; the girl was now legal.

Standing beside Elliot, who had been tasked with keeping her away so that they could setup, Lu clutched her bag and let out a shriek of, "Oh my god. Wow. This is so awesome."

Maroon and peach, Lu's favourite colours, was the theme of the night. A holographic birthday sign hung suspended at the centre of the room. Uhura had to admit, they really had outdone themselves for tonight. With only a week's notice, most of the gang had pitched in either credits or labour to ensure the night turned out well for their youngest member. All Uhura had to do was organise the groups and bake the cake. The hardest part of that exercise was getting the icing to come out peach. Food colouring was not a top commodity at the grocer these days.

Leonard McCoy, the man behind the drugs Uhura occasionally slipped Spock, stepped forward and hugged Lu. "Happy birthday, darlin'," he said. "How does it feel to be legal?"

She wrinkled her nose, looked at the expectant group and replied, "No different from yesterday."

They all laughed and next it was John Stiles, coming forward to offer his well wishes. Charlene Marsters, the engineer responsible for repairing their ground and hover vehicles, presented Lu with a rose necklace made of beaten metal. The others stepped forward and then someone turned on the music and the party officially began.

An hour into the festivities, Uhura went into the back with McCoy, returning with the cake and a bottle of local vintage champagne. Presented with her cake, Lu was urged by the group to make a wish. She closed her eyes, seemed to think about it then blew out the seventeen candles.

"What did you wish for, Lu?" asked the ever-cheerful Marlon Phillips. He was their second youngest member and sometimes completed assignments with Stiles.

"None of your business," Lu retorted while slicing into her cake.

When McCoy and Uhura began to pour the champagne, Lu positively radiated. She leaned over to Uhura and whispered, "You're the best."

As the party began to wind down, McCoy sat down next to Uhura. Judging by his overly bright eyes, she knew he'd had a bit much to drink.

"Can't say the girl has good taste in music."

"It's not too bad, once you get into it," she replied, glancing briefly across the room. Marlon was leading Lu in an intricate dance. Masters was having less luck with Elliot.

"You did good, setting up this shindig. She'll always remember it."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Uhura watched him swirl the contents of his class, then swallow it all. It occurred to her that he had lost his daughter and that tonight was probably difficult. He never really talked about it but they all knew he still mourned.

Hours later as she reached to switch off the lights, Uhura congratulated herself. She had given Lu a celebration the girl deserved. She had also boosted crew morale, giving them a renewed sense of hope. In addition, she had taken another step toward catching her spy.

Within the champagne they had used to toast Lu were hundreds of nanites. Originally developed to help heal catastrophic internal injury, she'd had them reprogrammed with instructions to attach within the body and send out a specific low frequency. She now had the means of tracking her crew for the next few months.

"Surprise," she whispered as the lights flicked off.

***SU***

Meanwhile...

Spock sat on the brown sofa within his office, one hand holding a small slender PADD with information pertinent to his current meeting. He eyed his companions and marvelled once more at the universe and its purpose driven randomness. When he had decided to study science, he could not have fathomed that one day he would be working with his half-brother, Sybok, or his own former fiancée, T'Pring. The universe, it seemed, was not without a dark sense of humour.

Sub-Commander T'Pring sat, back straight, in a posture that would make any Vulcan mother proud. Her beautiful features were coolly placid, her long hair pulled into a ruthless knot emphasising her delicate ears. Her uniform, perfectly tailored, displayed the clean lines of her body.

Sybok, on the other hand had released the top hooks of his uniform jacket. His overly long hair was clasped in a loose leather tie. It was not an acceptable style for any Vulcan male. But Sybok was known for disregarding tradition. Unlike T'Pring, he wore a deceptively relaxed demeanour. The way his hands rested on the arms of his chair, his meeting notes tucked into the space beside him, the Fleet Commander looked as if he were lounging on a Risan beach.

"According to your report, Sub-Commander, you have caught the imposter responsible for disabling the security fields around our storage complex."

"Unfortunately, Administrator, he died without giving any valuable information on his handlers. We do know he was Starfleet Intelligence."

Spock placed the PADD on the sofa and watched T'Pring follow his every move. She had an odd tendency to do that while they were in meetings. "Your report did not specify how he died."

"I killed him."

Sybok looked close to releasing one of his infamous smirks. Spock, however, simply asked, "Any particular reason?"

"His mind was of no use to us after he broke. We now know that he was placed among us when we were still fighting for control of this planet. His contact within the local resistance always kept to the shadows. All that is certain is that this individual is female."

"Perhaps next time you should not be so hasty with your execution. We could have used him for our purposes."

She nodded and the edges of her mouth tightened with her displeasure. Spock could understand her sentiments. Here she was, having to take orders from her former betrothed, a man whose mother belonged to the race that had killed her intended, Stonn. It did not matter to her that Spock's parents had died in the same attack.

PADD once more in hand, Spock began to scroll through some of his own statistics based on reports filed by T'Pring and Sybok. "Have you noticed the seven point nine percent upswing in Humans trained to evade mental extraction?"

"It is not so much that they can evade us," Sybok stated, "Rather some of them seem to have developed ways to prolong the experience. I suppose, they believe we will grow tired and leave them alone."

T'Pring added, "I find it distasteful to enter another's mind unless it is necessary. Perhaps we need an evaluation of our psychological techniques."

"Administrator, Sub-Commander, I may have an answer to our dilemma in the coming months."

Curious Spock asked, "Please elaborate."

"I have a scientist on board my ship who has been working on a device to sift through memories."

Spock was ambivalent about such a device, although he silently conceded that it would make interrogation of difficult subjects much less...messy. "An ingenious idea, if he succeeds, we will all be in his debt."

"I must admit, I was the one who came upon the idea."

T'Pring, voice threaded with open sarcasm, spoke. "Do enlighten us, sir."

Spock watched with mild amusement as Sybok ignored her tone. If she had issues with Spock, she outright abhorred Sybok's lack of proper control. Emotions were a thing to be studied and mastered, not manipulated and played with.

"After reviewing the ancient writings of Venek, I meditated on one of his postulations. He thought the memories and emotions of psychologically damaged patients could be brought forth and made visible by a Healer. Venek believed, forcing the patient into a visual and emotional confrontation with the traumatic memory would facilitate healing."

Knowing his brother's insatiable curiosity and need to experiment, Spock was certain he knew where this story was going. "I am assuming you have mastered Venek's technique."

"Of course."

Naturally—otherwise this discussion would have never started.

"I first tested it on one of the Humans aboard my ship and then on one of my science officers. They have since become the most pleasantly adjusted individuals."

Spock and T'Pring shared a look of perfect agreement. What Sybok had done was dangerous. Possibly this was why this particular treatment method was never put into general use.

"While we await your apparatus, sir," T'Pring said, "I shall look into changing some of our methods for dealing with the Humans."

"Research their history, Sub-Commander, you might find something inspirational," Spock suggested.

After the meeting ended and T'Pring had fled their presence in the most dignified manner, Sybok made an observation. "Working with the sub-commander these many weeks has led me to conclude that she was definitely not the right match for you."

Spock gazed at his brother for eleven seconds without so much as blinking. They had only discussed her three times prior. The day before he bonded with her, the night after, and the day he and T'Pring dissolved their betrothal bond. It was an uncomfortable topic for him.

"During our limited interactions before our separation, I found her to be mostly pleasant. The conflict seems to have warped her."

"And has it not changed the rest of us?"

"Some more so than others, I believe."

"A consequence they neglect to emphasize when training new military personnel."

"Nor do they mention it to young diplomatic aspirants," Spock said, immediately following with, "How are you adjusting to Deneva?"

"In all honesty, I thought I would be prepared for it, having experienced Humans both at home and on Earth. But Spock, the utter desperation that chokes so many of these people can feel claustrophobic."

Powerful empathic telepathy had its drawbacks, and Sybok was one of the strongest. "You are too much of a sensualist, brother; if you are to survive you will have to tighten your mental shielding."

"As are you, Spock, perhaps to a lesser degree, but you cannot deny it."

Spock nodded. He was positive they inherited this particular characteristic from their father. "The least you can do is practice a modicum of restraint. Delaying an important meeting with the Klingons because you were bedding two females does not look well on your record."

"The High Command has a tendency to be highly strung. The Klingons eventually moved past that little incident." Sybok smiled and an unapologetic gleam entered his black eyes. "And what of you? You have not been living the life of an ascetic."

"No, I have not."

Sybok rose from his chair went to the conference table across the room. He poured himself a glass of water and took a sip. "Oh come now, Spock, are we going pretend she does not exist?"

"To whom do you refer?"

"The very interesting Nyota Uhura. Did you know she is fluent in over twenty-five non-terran languages and that she spent two and a half months on Vulcan during her Starfleet Academy years?"

Hearing those casual words leave his brother's lips gave Spock pause. He was well aware that Sybok knew of his involvement with Nyota. He would have done his research long before arriving here in the Mentara System. And if there was one thing Spock was certain of, it was that Sybok had his spies. It was only fair because Spock had a few of his own. What disturbed him was that his brother saw it as necessary to mention some of what he knew about her.

"She is a fascinating woman."

"Is that all she is to you? Is it my imagination, or does she bear a resemblance to the woman you often sketched after your Tal'oth experience."

Spock found that his fingers were beginning to create impressions on his PADD. Sybok was sixteen year older than he was and as a child, Spock had idolised him. As he grew older, their relationship had become a bit more complicated. What had made his brother exciting had slowly revealed itself to be dangerous and had almost gotten Sybok shunned from all things Vulcan.

Spock had also learnt a number of details surrounding Sybok's mother's death and the role his brother had been forced to play. Apparently, he was never the same, no matter how much the healers did for him. He could be malicious and completely sociopathic. He was one of the few Vulcans who had taken to using Human males and females as sexual pets.

"She is off limits to you." The force of his words made Sybok give him a serious once over.

"Have you developed feelings for her?"

Yes! He had foolishly developed feelings for Nyota Uhura. She was only supposed to be a means to an end:

One, find out how she was connected to his vision. Two, discover why a revered Vulcan elder had an interest in her. Three, completely release eighteen years of pent-up lust for a figment of his imagination.

He had just received the answer to number two. He was astounded by what it meant to him and both his people. Number one was still a mystery and number three seemed impossible.

"She is mine Sybok and I will not share her. Can you honour that as a fellow Vulcan and my kin?"

They stared at each other for a few tensed seconds, until Sybok replied, "I will not dishonour your request."

"Thank you."

"Am I off limits from anyone else?" The smile was back.

"Supreme arrogance will be your downfall one day, brother."

A/N: Good? Bad? Your comments are appreciated.