Piece of trivia. If you read my Race of Cain, you know Saavik had a small wood box where she kept a falsified letter from Spock. She got rid of the letter; so what did she do with the box?

Fifty-nine years later

The Romulans took turns staring and blinking at Kyle Nachson until one Centurion snarled. "Are you mocking us?"

"No, it's too serious for anybody to make fun of it." He was calm despite who he faced. "I know some kids who are partly like you. They're learning this dance that your kids do in the Empire. You know, so they get a good foundation for who they are. They asked me about it, but I'm fuzzy on some of the steps and the guy who taught it to them thinks it's funny to watch me fumble around. That's why I'm asking if you'll help me."

The staring and blinking were turning to narrowed eyes and upper lips curling. The Romulan who spoke earlier did not believe them and he made that more than clear by his hand pulling his dagger. "Children who are part-us?"

"Yeah, they are. I bet some of you have kids or you remember it from when you did it. It's this one," Nachson explained as if that was their problem. He performed a few steps using the available space and the music already playing. He was oblivious to his crewmates gaping as much as the Romulans. "You see, right here. Here's my problem. Is it a spin after the third left step or a half-spin?"

The diminutive Commander Imre, Saavik's exec, pushed to the front, making the Romulans' eyes widen even more. "No one here is trying to disrespect you in any way."

"You take something as simple and charming as a child's dance and turn it into looking ridiculous and a joke!"

Imre held up his hands. "Please, believe me. We don't want trouble. He's serious about those kids, he'd never make anything about them ridiculous. None of us would. He's just that bad at dancing."

The Romulans continued to be amazed or doubting until one of the older men said to his compatriots, "I believe he's sincere."

"I am," Kyle said. "I don't wanna look bad in front of the kids. That's all." His feet tangled.

"I can't take this anymore!" a young woman Centurion exploded at Nachson. "What are you like in bed if you can't do this?" She grabbed his hips. "Move these! Get some rhythm from the waist down!" and she pressed against him so he could feel what she meant. "Like this."

Imre shook his head in disbelief. "They don't teach you this in the Academy." He turned to speak to the large rodent-looking and blind Communications officer. "Bimo, try breaking through the static and get the captain."

"Yes, sir." She leaped on the bar and then behind it, commandeering the comm station from the sweating barman. All other patrons had emptied out of the Frontier bar when the Contact's crew came in followed by the Romulans.

Just then, the Tran brothers from Earth's Melbourne walked in, having heard frantic people running around. The blonde Jaxon was Saavik's Security chief and his younger brother, the brunette Caleb, served with him.

The older brother leaned into the red-haired, porcelain skinned Kamila Patrik. "What's going on?"

"Apparently, we're all going to get killed because Kyle asked about a children's dance."

Caleb exchanged a look with Jaxon and they both shrugged. "There's dumber reasons to die," and they moved to Imre's shoulders.

Kyle spoke to his dance partner, "We're not still talking about the kids' dance, are we? Because this gyrating is really creepy if we are."

She scoffed. "I'm saving you from a lifetime of cold nights, and you won't live long enough to worry about it if you step on my foot one more time."

Another member of the Contact crew came in, hearing the noise: Thalla sh'Shytral, the Andorian helmsman. She took the place next to Patrik, the navigator, and asked quietly what was happening. It didn't cover the sound of a transporter right outside. A half-beat behind, plus higher and faster pitched, came another transporter, this one from somewhere behind the Romulans.

Captain Saavik strode with calm confidence through the bar's entrance, her dress uniform in perfect lines. She carried a small keepsake box made of rich redwood which she passed to Imre on her left when she stopped.

The Romulan Commander slipped through her own people at nearly the same time. "Captain."

"Commander."

The Romulan's gaze darted around Saavik's. Even with only saying a word each, the respect for the other came through. They sounded like old associates and soldiers who fought in the same campaign.

"It's been a long time," the Commander said.

"Yes, it has."

"You're not going to give me the exact amount?"

"No," Saavik responded pleasantly.

"Thank you." The Romulan used her gaze to point out Saavik's rank insignia. "I didn't think it'd take you this long to earn that."

Saavik lifted her eyebrows. "I did not see a captaincy as part of my path and so I refused it whenever it was offered."

"And now that you have it?"

A gleam came into Saavik's eyes.

"I thought so."

"I do not regret not choosing it until now. That earlier part of my path formed who I am."

The Commander's small smile agreed. "Understood. You seem... settled."

"One matures," Saavik answered. "Or they should, at least. It took time, experience, and relationships. Most recently, one with a Centurion. I finally settled, as you say."

The Commander actually grinned. "You surprise me."

"Another positive then."

The Commander kept that smile. "That past included commanding a ship in lieu of your captain. And you were at the Battle of Tomed."

Saavik lost her lightness. So did the Commander. "I did not command a ship at Tomed. Nor was I a first officer there."

"But you were there. And served well. At least, so the reports read… from people not accusing you of being a Romulan spy."

"Unfortunately, that accusation was made. Fortunately, not by all. Commander," Saavik paused. "I could not tell you this when it occurred. I heard of the loss of Subcommander Cekula and your son, Akul. I grieve with thee. They deserved the long life ahead of them and a better death."

The Romulan's eyes dropped to the floor and Saavik spoke on seeing that. "No one should have to bury their child."

That head snapped up. "The children that are part-us that your man mentioned. They are yours?"

Saavik's features, perhaps, tightened. "Yes, they are. I would prefer the Empire forget Spock and I have children."

They both knew that couldn't happen.

The humor in the Romulan's voice returned as she indicated Kyle and the Centurion. They had wisely stopped dancing when their commanding officers came in. "Your problem child? I believe that is the phrase."

"An apt description. And yours?"

"The one grinding against yours."

They shared a glance of pseudo-suffering before Saavik called him to her, "Mr. Nachson."

"Centurion Laleth," the Commander summoned.

They broke apart, deadly serious and professional about the standoff. Kyle stood opposite of Imre on the captain's right. The Centurion went to her original point.

"Not just captain," the Romulan went on, "but Commander at Vulcan."

"I did warn you that Vulcan was off limits and that I stood on this side of the Zone to enforce it."

"So, this is a formal extension of that?"

"Yes."

The Commander gave a small nod, but the sound of a transporter interrupted everyone. In came a blonde woman with a compact build who hit the ground hard with each step, her lips compressed until they whitened. She invaded the Romulan's space, making the others shift and more Honor Blades were drawn. Saavik immediately came to her side for support and her crew also shifted.

"Dr. Stewart," the Vulcan insisted, "return to the ship. I will manage the situation."

"With all due respect, Captain, I will speak for myself. And take the consequences if there are any."

The Commander hadn't drawn her weapon and she still didn't as Stewart pushed closer.

"You heard her, my name is Frances Stewart. I'm from the Enterprise-C."

Half the Romulans looked back and forth between each other. The rest watched their Commander.

She spoke gravely, "We heard no one from the Enterprise still lived."

"Sorry you didn't get to kill as many people as you thought."

Frances didn't recognize it, but the Romulan's gentled. "I meant it as a good thing. How did you survive?"

Stewart jerked her head at Saavik, but her voice's strength was her anger and her grief began breaking down her front. "She came aboard and brought word on what was happening. But she was sick… she was dying, so my captain… sent me away with her to Vulcan. …She sent me away."

"Or," Saavik interceded, "we both would have been at Narendra III. And died with the others."

The Commander's voice firmed. "Doctor, not everyone supported Dralath's attack. Otherwise, Commander Charvanek and her Honor Blade would not have been there with your crew. If we had been closer, we would have joined them."

Stewart didn't know what to say.

The Romulan said to Saavik, her body tight, "Tomed, Khitomer, Narendra III. What can happen is limited now."

Saavik agreed. "The Empire has been an absent presence."

"The borders are volatile." Her original respect and interest shone through again. "A shame in this instance."

The Vulcan gave her own small nod. "I thought the same."

The Commander's brown eyes swept over the Contact's command crew. A first officer with dwarfism, a blind officer… "This is really the crew you'd choose to go into battle?"

"If I did not, they would not be on my ship."

One corner of the Romulan's mouth quirked. "It is your shakedown cruise. Is their allegiance on record? Do they choose you?"

Saavik spoke to them. "You are not obligated. Speak your minds."

From the back of the group, a Vulcan male, with dark skin and amber eyes, rose from a chair. It seemed to take his colossal size a long time to stand all the way. The Romulans as one watched with ever growing eyes and their heads bending further back until they nearly rested between the shoulder blades.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Sotraun. Engineering stands with the captain."

A petite dark Vulcan with exotic brown eyes did the subtle shift from normal Vulcan stance to at attention. "Lieutenant T'allendil. Sciences stand with the captain."

They went through every division, Medical, Security, Communications, until it got to the higher officers.

"Lieutenant Commander Kyle Nachson, second officer. Tactical stands with the captain."

Imre had watched each of them speak. Now he faced the Romulans. "Commander Risteárd Imre, first officer. We have an answer for you, Commander. The Contact serves at the discretion of Captain Saavik."

The Romulan dipped her head again to Saavik. "More of a shame then."

Kyle broke in. "Shame you can't have war games with the enemy. Nobody gets hurt, nobody dies, so no governments looking over your shoulder. But you get your answer."

The two women shared another empathetic glance. The Romulan came to a stop shoulder to shoulder as she went to pass Saavik. "Perhaps someday will still come. Then we'll see."

"Then we will see. Before you leave," Saavik held out a hand and Imre gave her the wooden box. "For you."

A Subcommander jumped forward and he snarled, "You open it, half-blood!"

His commander told to him stand down, that Saavik would not use an explosive when her people would be killed. He insisted it could be something else, something only for Romulan blood.

"I don't mind." Saavik then remarked drily over the insulting name he had used. "Some things remain the same." She waited for the Centurion to get between her and his superior, and then she opened the box. She withdrew the Honor Blade that lay inside and offered it to the other woman.

Who refused it. "We gave it to you."

"I cannot. Its meaning-"

"Its meaning is, does a warrior with honor hold it. Period. Do not reject the gift."

After a moment, Saavik accepted it back with a dip of her head. She started to hand the box to Imre again when the Romulan's narrowed eyes had her tuck it under an arm. "I thank you. Please give my regards to Commander Toreeth."

The tension drained away, as much as it could with two enemy factions lined up against each other. "She'll get a laugh out of that. Commander… Nachson?" He nodded. "It's a three-quarter turn after the third left step in the dance. You then repeat it but in reverse, so you return to the starting point."

He smiled. "Thank you, ma'am. I can't wait to show the kids."

Saavik's crew stepped back with her as the Romulans beamed away. She looked around them with a warm gaze. "I thank you for what you said earlier. Imre, tell the ship to beam us up."

He got out his communicator as he said, "I thought she'd jump at the war games idea."

Saavik answered, "She cannot. Not with the Tal Shiar everywhere."

The static surrounding the planet blocked his attempts to reach the ship, so he handed it off to Bimo again. "Thankfully we don't have anything like that."

But his captain's forehead creased. "Don't be so certain. Admiral Uhura has heard whispers from her position as head of Starfleet Intelligence. The shadows may also watch us or this 31 may be rumors. Hopefully, the latter."

Thalla went to Kyle, her antennae shaking as with laughter. "You're fun, Commander. Going up to Romulans to ask about a kids' dance."

He gave her a full blown grin. "Just make it Kyle."

"Yeah, about that dance," Caleb said. "I change my mind. That would be the dumbest reason to die."

Imre nearly shouted, "Captain! The Contact reports the Romulans were moving to surround them and then cloaked! Their commander has a message for you. 'You should have—'"

"Seen it coming." Saavik's eyes gleamed. "Red alert."