Disclaimer: Don't Own. Don't Profit.

Special thanks to Beta Notes from the Classroom. Check out her latest "The Betrayal" in my Faves.

Chapter 4

Nyota woke in her own apartment for the first time since she'd come back to Earth. The bed felt too big and too cold. Her comm was ringing. Rolling over, she squinted at her clock: 05:30. She looked at the number on her comm and her eyes got wide. Lunging out of bed she hit her comm button just before it went to voice mail.

Her brother Jabari's face filled the screen. He was in his quarters on his ship rubbing his head. His eyes were slightly hooded, and he looked thinner than she remembered

"Jabari," she said. "You're alive!" She hadn't been worried, but she'd been trying to reach him on her own comm since she'd come to Earth and only gotten a smattering of emails in return.

He grinned, "I'm alive? You're alive! When we thought you were on the Farragut..." His voice trailed off.

Starfleet records had shown she was on the Farragut when it encountered Nero. When her family heard the Farragut had been destroyed, her brother had headed to the Vulcan system to help in the rescue attempts. When Jabari received her email saying she was safe, he'd stayed on – along with other independent volunteers from all over the galaxy.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Oh, we picked up a few surviving Vulcans about two days ago and transferred them to the Red Cross Cruiser, but we haven't found anyone since then." Looking down and rubbing the side of his head he said, "Not alive."

Nyota frowned; her brother kept rubbing his head, almost nervously. It wasn't like her brother to be nervous...ever. "But how are you?"

Looking up and blinking at her he said, "Oh, me? I'm fine. I just haven't slept…in a while." He rubbed his head again.

If Nyota had been there she would have grabbed his hand. "Maybe you should sleep now?"

Scowling, he said, "What? I just got hold of you after thinking you'd been blasted into space dust. The least you can do is talk to me for a while."

Nyota smiled.

"How are you, Ny? Bet they have a lot of questions for you at Starfleet?" he said.

"Yes, they have," said Nyota rolling her eyes. "Today I'm scheduled to help repair the Enterprise's Universal Translator. It's a huge relief to be out from under the interrogation lamp."

Jabari's face got serious. "How is Spock doing?"

Nyota frowned.

"That good?" said Jabari.

Nyota shrugged. Scowling and not looking at her brother she said, "The Vulcan elders are planning on establishing a new colony. He is resigning his commission to help."

"Yeah..." said Jabari. "I guess we'd do the same."

Nyota looked up quickly. Jabari was rubbing his head again absent-mindedly. Eyes unfocused he said, "If it was Earth - "

"They treated him like a second class citizen," snapped Nyota. "And now he wants to give up everything he worked for -"

"Who's they?" said Jabari. "The arrogant sons-of-bitches in the Vulcan Science Academy, or the High Council and their telepathic Gray Guard henchmen?"

Nyota went a little cold at mention of the Gray Guard.

"Come on, Ny. The Romulans...Humans...all have had their share of..." He shook his head. "But that's not really who this is about, is it?"

"Who is it about?" Nyota asked, folding her arms over her chest. But she knew. It was about the Vulcans who pushed aside their own grief and helped fix the subspace array and life support systems of the Enterprise. It was about parents who gave their only escape to their children. It was about the Vulcan scholar, T'Lan, and her associates who were responsible for Nyota's first published paper, and Tyback the Vulcan she and Spock had helped get into Starfleet. Putting her hand to her forehead she said, "No, I know. I just...I just don't want to lose him."

"Yeah," Jabari said, "that's rough."

At that moment the door behind him slid open. A Romulan woman entered. Long black wavy hair was pulled back from mourning markings tattooed on half her face in a style that was too familiar to Nyota now.

"You haven't slept in 48.23 hours. What are you doing awake?" she said to Jabari in Romulan.

"I couldn't sleep. I'm talking to my sister," he said.

Turning to the screen, the woman said, "Hello, Nyota."

"Hello, Rhin," said Nyota.

She turned back to Jabari, "If you can't sleep, I can assist."

"Ummm..." said Jabari giving a bashful look in Nyota's direction.

Nyota blinked.

"The Red Cross Cruiser gave us some sedatives," said Rhin, hands on her hips. "I understand they're strong enough to knock out a full grown Gorn. If you don't behave reasonably and try to sleep I will be forced to give you some."

Jabari looked back to Nyota and whispered, "Ny, she's not bluffing...I better go...Love you, little sister."

Before she could reply, the screen went black.

Nyota sat back in her chair. She wondered about Rhin, Jabari's mysterious engineer - now apparently aiding in the effort to find Vulcan survivors. How many Vulcans were left?

She stared down at her hands. Jabari was right. If it had been Earth destroyed...

She'd want to rebuild, if it meant working her fingers to the bone. Even if it meant swallowing her bitterness and saying goodbye to the stars. And Heaven help anyone who tried to keep her from it.

x x x x

Spock focused on closing the last button of his instructor uniform. His fingers slipped infinitesimally, delaying completion of the fastening by approximately .5 seconds. He took a deep breath. He put on one boot, and then the other, trying to make his moves as smooth and efficient as possible.

As he packed a PADD into his bag, left the apartment, and hailed a hover cab off campus, he tried to give each task, no matter how trivial, his full attention. It was a Vulcan technique for maintaining calm. It was a human technique for achieving same. His mother said the Buddhists called it mindfulness.

It worked to a certain extent. In the cab he slipped the PADD out of his bag and began to review the data his father had collected. When his cab was cut off by another driver, he did not erupt in rage at the six second delay. When he saw human couples walking hand in hand he did not clench his fists. He returned his eyes to the data, but anger flitted at the back of his consciousness.

Sarek was working with Starfleet, Earth's Vulcan Embassy and a large private charity to put together a database of survivors. This meant combining the databases of other worlds where Vulcan expats resided, as well as getting travel logs from private and public transports that had been in route to and from Vulcan when Nero's attack occurred. Every one had their own particular data structures. Combining them was a monumental task, and the need was great.

Despite only 10,000 or so Vulcan survivors from the planet itself, there were millions of other Vulcans off planet at the time of destruction. Now all were trying to find out if any members of their families survived.

The hover cab stopped. Putting his PADD away and paying his fare, Spock got out and walked through a shrine of flowers and spent candles that humans had left outside the front of the Embassy gates.

Once inside the embassy doors, Spock crossed a wide open area usually used to host official functions and cultural exhibits. Now it was filled with desks manned by humans and Vulcans. Around the desks milled more humans and Vulcans not associated with the embassy. In Standard and Vulcan Spock caught snatches of, "I am looking for...", "I have a friend...", "A relative..."

His father and mother had met in this building.

It was better not to think of that.

Spock focused his eyes on a wide staircase leading up to the second level of offices. He took the steps three at a time. At the top landing he walked along a row of offices with glass walls. A scene in one caught his attention. It was the two Vulcan children from the Enterprise sitting at a large desk with a human woman sitting between them. The older child was scribbling on a PADD; the human appeared to be demonstrating how to cut with scissors for the younger one. Spock straightened. He knew his father had been keeping the children, but what were they doing here at a place of work?

Spock felt his spine relax, and a sense of calm come over him, as though a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding was released.

"They may have a surviving aunt." It was his father's voice. Turning, he saw Sarek walking towards him. "I spoke with a human psychologist; they suggested not placing them in school until their situation is resolved. And the boy wants to be here in the event there is any news." His father pivoted and inclined his head towards the next office down.

"Come," Sarek said.

Spock entered the office a pace behind his father. A desk had been pushed to the side and an oval conference table put in its stead. There were two human men in the room. Spock recognized them both: his friend Professor Toshi Matsumura from Starfleet's computer department and Josef Friedman, the founder of Holosuite, one of the galaxy's richest men, and Sarek's best man when –

Spock took a breath.

Toshi stood up and bowed in Spock's direction. He was about 50 human years old, his frame was slight, he was dressed neatly...and he was smiling. For a moment Spock's nostrils flared at the incongruous smile uncalled for in the situation, and then he remembered Nyota telling him that Japanese people had a tendency to smile when they were very uncomfortable.

"Spock," Toshi said, now sitting down. "I was just informing your father and Mr. Friedmann about the resources Starfleet is prepared to share in the efforts to locate and identify survivors."

"Hardly any," said Josef pushing his glasses up his nose. Despite his six odd decades Josef still looked much as Spock remembered him from his childhood, tall, and thinner than his father, face very smooth for a human his age, but now his hair was completely white.

"Eh, Spock's skills are valuable, but yes, otherwise the resources they offer are inadequate," said Toshi. He bowed his head so low he almost hit the table. "But you will be able to collect information in Starfleet's name. That should allow you to more easily access data from private corporations and governments that are legally unable to share data..."

"Professor Matsumura is right," said Sarek. "We will need special approval from a judge to go around laws designed to protect privacy." He sat down and nodded at Spock to take the seat next to him.

What followed was an explanation of privacy laws among various Federation planets, and what procedures were necessary to get special dispensation around these laws. Spock had never understood the expression, "bored to tears," but he was certain, if he could cry, this topic would bring it on.

At length Sarek said to Professor Matsumura, "You are free to go." As the little man left he looked back at Spock and gave what Spock was 95% certain was a sympathetic look.

His father and Josef talked on. At a certain level Spock could appreciate the finesse with which they schemed to sidestep inconvenient regulations. It was almost a game to them, he realized, like 3D chess. But he felt useless...frustrated...and bored.

He looked down at the data on his PADD in front of him. There were more male than female survivors. Vulcan males without bond-mates could be dangerous...

His mind drifted back to the night before with Nyota. She hadn't felt violated when he poured all of his emotions into her - not at that moment, but when she left...What had she felt? What did it matter? She said she wasn't sure she could wait five years, and it was doubtful Starfleet would let her out of her obligations - even if she wanted to go.

He lifted his head. He couldn't think of this now. And he couldn't think about the intricacies of Federation privacy laws. Giving in to an impulse he said, "Why won't Starfleet donate more resources to our efforts?"

There was a moment of silence.

Tilting his head, his father said, "Nero may not have been affiliated with the Empire, but he may as well have been."

"The Klingon and Federation fleets have both lost nearly half their vessels," said Josef.

Looking down at his hands Sarek said, "It may give us the opportunity to form a truce with the Klingons - or perhaps even an alliance."

Josef looked at his father, and then back to Spock. "My own fleet of freight ships has reported Romulan ships congregating at the edges of Federation and Romulan space; there are rumors they are doing the same at the borders of the Klingon Empire as well. And that's just what I know..."

Turning his gaze back to Spock, Sarek said, "Starfleet will know more. Undoubtedly they are very busy right now. Most likely trying to decipher the technology that allowed Nero to overwhelm us so easily."

"But that is something we cannot control," said Josef looking down at his PADD. "Now, one thing I am particularly concerned about is the Tellurite transports between Vulcan and Nimbus 415…."

"Indeed," said Sarek. "Perhaps if we contact the former Tellurite Ambassador. We were both on good terms with him and his wife -"

And so it went. When Spock's PADD blinked that he had an incoming text message from Nyota, he stared at it for 3.2 seconds. He wasn't sure what to expect; he didn't think he could deal with anything dramatic at the moment. His control was so frail. Better to read it later.

He looked up from the PADD.

"According to Federation law 112-A67B subsection 13," Sarek said, "in colonies that are not incorporated..."

Spock looked back down at his PADD and opened the message.

My Spock,

I am so sorry. Please forgive me.

I don't want to give up on us. Can we meet tonight?

Nyota

Since he'd watched his world crumble, Nyota had been the one constant. Until last night she'd seemed to anticipate all his needs, refused him nothing and asked him for nothing. But hadn't she lost, too? His mother and Nyota had been "subspace" friends. And there was Gaila, and she had many acquaintances among the dead. It wasn't as great as his loss, but it was still immense. It was illogical to think that it wouldn't affect her behavior. He thought back to his own lapse on the bridge - at least she hadn't tried to strangle him.

He lifted an eyebrow. Would she laugh if he told her that? Would she ever be able to laugh again? And would he be able to touch her fingers if she did?

She was working on the Enterprise's Universal translator today. She would have gone up as part of a larger engineering crew; they would not have used transporters. The standard shift would end at 17:00; the shuttle would arrive planet side at approximately 17:23.

He quickly composed a reply.

I will meet you in the hangar when you return.

At 16:55, his father said, "Josef and I will continue this discussion over dinner. Perhaps you would like to join us?"

It was with some relief that Spock said, "I have a previous engagement."

He felt his spine stiffen inexplicably, and a tightness in his chest.

"Excuse me," said Sarek turning away. Spock was in too much of a rush to leave to ponder his father's comment.

x x x x

Spock was at the hangar at 17:20. He was just a few meters away from the bay where Nyota's shuttle was scheduled to land. A familiar form was walking away from him.

"Father?" said Spock, wondering why he wasn't at dinner with Josef.

The figure stopped, and turned around. As his head turned, Spock saw the profile of a Vulcan much older than Sarek.

The strange Vulcan turned around completely and began walking in Spock's direction. "I am not our father."

A/N:

Yes, I do have a whole plot line (in my head) about how Jabari got pardoned. I thought about alluding to it here, but it would be meaningless to new readers.

Josef is a character from "The Native" - my Sarek/Amanda origins fic. He also pops up in "The Girls Alright"...one of the funner stories I've written I think.

If you're enjoying this fic please leave a review!