*Conversations in Vulcan are followed by the English translation – Sorry if I incorrectly translate from English to Vulcan; I'm using a Vulcan dictionary to translate each word so it's likely that I've misused some of the words.

'Why did you do it?'

J.T turned and glared at the older man. He and Pike had been slowly walking back to the hospital ward and so far, the journey had been silent.

'You know why,' he accused.

'I didn't mean the motive. I was talking about the fight'.

'The fight was a result of the motive'.

'But there were other results you could have chosen'.

'Such as?'

'Reasoning'.

'You don't reason with survivors. If we did that on Tarsus, Starfleet would've never have to come in the first place'.

Pike didn't know how to reply to the statement so he kept silent. After all, J.T was right – lack of communication and desperation had led to the other survivors being as much of a threat to each other as the soldiers had been.

Soon, the pair reached the ward and Pike opened the door, waiting for J.T to walk inside before entering himself.

'You should get a doctor to check that out,' Pike indicated meaningfully at J.T's bloody face.

'I'm already in a hospital,' he muttered and left for his designated bed.

Pike sighed. The survivors of the massacre were all stubborn when it came to receiving help from a third party. He considered staying with J.T – the boy would be lonely otherwise – but he wasn't sure if the teenager would appreciate such a gesture. His insistent communicator made the decision for him and he made his way to the exit, resolving to return later in the evening.

[Break]

Uhura walked aimlessly around the hospital ward. Her supervisor had instructed her to converse with the other teenagers her age but he'd forgotten to mention how tenuous it was to even get within a meter of them. It was harder to talk to teenagers. However, if the patients had been adults or young children they would've been more perceptible to strangers. They wouldn't be warm and welcoming but at least they wouldn't be as wary or distrustful. Younger children were reliable on the safety and instruction of those bigger and older than them and adults had more experience with the world – they knew who and what Starfleet was and why it would be in their best interests to cooperate with them. Teenagers however, had an independent craving and were extremely skilled at holding grudges – especially when things did not go the way they had planned.

'Na'shayas'. *Greetings*

Uhura twisted her head towards the voice that was speaking in Vulcan. Chances were, it was originating from a Vulcan survivor – Vulcan's were emotionless and more likely to talk to her without lashing out. Her gaze rotated until she spotted the Vulcan boy who had been threatened during a class. He was standing motionless at the foot of a hospital bed. Moving closer, Uhura's curiosity was aroused as she saw the blonde haired boy who had protected the Vulcan.

'Uh… tonk'peh?' *Uh… hi?*

'T'nash-veh ahm qual Spock *My name is Spock*

'J.T'

'Mat m'aih taran ish-du korsau nash kwi' au rehkuh fai'ei au vesh' dotoran dash-tor veh. Ni ,veh aitlu-tor sadvun-tor itaren-tor du'. *My mother told me that you protected me today from the three boys because they were planning to hurt me. Hence, I would like to extend my gratefulness to you*

'No problem'. *rai wat*

The two continued their conversation in Vulcan.

'I have difficulty familiarizing myself with colloquial language but would I be correct to assume that the phrase you just used implies that you have accepted my gratefulness?'

J.T laughed.

'Yes, it does. You know, I had a friend on Tarsus who was Vulcan. You remind me a lot of him – although after a few weeks living together he familiarized himself with what he considered illogical terms'.

'I hope to acquire the same skill'.

'So… Spock… What do you hope to learn by accompanying your mother's classes?'

'I wish to observe the emotional nature of other species – mainly, humans'.

'So… does that mean you're not emotional? I mean, you're mother's human so I thought that you might be able to express emotion.'

'You're prediction is correct – I am capable, although rarely express human emotion. The fact that I can is the very reason for my presence on Earth; I am curious of my differences from the Vulcan species'.

'Well… you seem pretty Vulcan to me. If I didn't know your mother was human I'd have though you were full Vulcan'.

'Your observation is interesting and appreciative'.

Uhura pretended to read a blank PADD screen as Spock's mother walked towards the hospital bed to retrieve her son.

'Spock! I need to go home now to prepare for tomorrow's lesson,' she announced.

'Of course mother, Goodbye J.T – live long and prosper.'

Amanda Greyson looked curiously at the Vulcan-speaking teenager as he nodded in acknowledgment to her son but decided not to pry. Amanda herded her son towards the door and J.T reached for the PADD lying by his feet. Uhura watched as he opened a database before slowly making her way over to the boy's hospital bed.

'Hello,' she said softly, ensuring that she stood at least a meter away from the hospital bed.

J.T kept his head bowed over the PADD screen. He missed nothing and had long since predicted that the young linguist would approach him after his conversation with Spock.

'Was there any reason why you listen to other people's conversations?' he asked, his tone neutral.

Uhura hesitated. She thought her presence had gone unknown… apparently not.

'My apologies for eavesdropping,' she replied genuinely, 'I was just surprised to hear a human speak Vulcan'.

'Don't know what you found interesting about it – you're obviously a linguist so you can speak Vulcan yourself'.

Uhura inclined her head slightly.

'That is true… but my guess is that you probably aren't a linguist which is curious as I heard you speak Andorian this morning'.

The boy finally looked up from the PADD screen, a blank expression on his face.

'And you want to know where I learnt other languages,' he replied.

It wasn't really a question, but a statement. Uhura nodded.

J.T looked at her long and hard, assessing whether to trust her or not. He was wary of disclosing his past life to her but she wasn't an adult – rather, roughly the same age as J.T.

'I can teach you other dialects if you wish,' she offered.

J.T's mouth turned up slightly and he nodded in acceptance. The boredom of residing in the hospital was degrading his brain cells and the incompetent PADD they had given him did little to challenge his genius level mind.

'Hoshi Sato,' he told her, 'I'm J.T by the way, but you already know that'.

'Courtesy of my eavesdropping,' Uhura guiltily agreed, 'you can call me Uhura. Where you really taught by Hoshi Sato? The Starfleet officer who invented the linguacode?' she asked eagerly.

Amoungst the linguist community, Hoshi Sato was their ultimate inspiration – especially for women. J.T smiled sadly.

'She was pretty smart, huh?' he murmured.

Uhura frowned slightly.

'Was?' she questioned.

J.T raised an eyebrow.

'You haven't been on the news feeds lately, have you?' he asked.

Uhura slowly shook her head, deep in thought as she tried to process his words.

'Uhura… I didn't meet Hoshi on Earth,' J.T told her slowly, 'I met her on Tarsus'.

'So…' Uhura began, 'what happened to her?'

'She was killed in the massacre,' J.T replied softly.

'Oh…'

Sorrow washed over Uhura and she stood there in silence for a while.

'What was she like,' Uhura asked timidly.

'She was a great person to be around. She could talk for hours on end – switching through a dozen different languages at a time – and I'd just sit there, soaking it in. She was always so patient too – never got sick of me. I use to beg her to teach me more and she'd laugh and invite me into her house. I learnt more from her than I ever learnt from any of the teachers at school – and not just information. She was a great teacher of character too'.

Uhura nodded.

'I'm sorry for your loss'.

The corner of J.T's mouth was tugged upwards, but his smile was a sad one.

'She wasn't my only loss – just my first'.

He spoke so softly; she almost didn't hear what he had said. But when she deciphered his words, she felt a great heaviness settle on her heart. The reality of the suffering of the survivors hit her at warp speed. She yearned to comfort J.T but she knew there was nothing she could do to lessen his burden.

A noticeable hand gesture from her supervisor on the other side of the ward alerted her to the time and she gave him a subtle nod.

'J.T,' she waited until she had his attention, 'I'm sorry but I have to go now, I'll see you next week'.

She smiled and waved goodbye as she turned to leave. J.T returned the smile albeit smaller and nodded his head.

'Bye,' he said, with a sense of finality to his tone.

Uhura sensed the greeting held a different meaning for him.