Jonathan Ben-Lachi 's brain felt as if it was stuffed with cotton.

His eyes fluttered lazily before he could gather his wits together. Eyes flickering around the room he realized that he was not in the sick bay but in fact, in a fellow officer's quarters. He recalled the searing pain in his shoulder when a metal plate had punctured his skin. Then he saw the kind face of that nurse who was bent over him, whispering a reassurance as she patched him up before pumping him full of sedatives.

No wonder he felt so woozy. At least his shoulder had stopped bleeding him to death.

The door opened up and in walked someone who was definitely not a Starfleet officer and wore an oversized blue uniform shirt that nearly came down to her knees. The girl, he was guessing about 11 or 12 years old, was balancing a tray in her slim hands and carrying it to Jonathan.

"What's a kid like you," he mumbled thickly. "Doin' in a place like this?"

"I have come to assist you," the little officer informed him. She set the tray down next to his bedside table.

"All patients to be strapped in," she said in a no-nonsense voice. "We will be entering Titan's magnetic field and the Enterprise may get shaky. Please stay in bed."

"Now wait a minute," Jonathan began to protest. "I wanna see a real doctor, not some baby elf!"

He struggled to get up but Saavik's palm pushed him back hard enough to make Jonathan's head bounce against the pillow.

"I am not a baby elf," she replied as-a-matter of fact. "And these are Dr. McCoy's orders." When Jonathan began to panic and raise his voice in a protest, Saavik followed Nurse Chapel's instructions. She removed the gray cylinder from her pocket and swiftly jabbed its pointed end into Jonathan's knee.

"Aw, hell noooo..."

His protest died out when his eyelids closed and he slumped back into unconsciousness. It was unclear if Saavik was satisfied with her work but had anyone seen the brief nod she gave herself and perhaps the corner of her lip pull up as she pocketed the tranquilizer, they would have said she was content.

Saavik returned to the sick bay just as Christine was securing a bandage around Montgomery Scott's elbow. By now she had become quite accustomed to patching up wounded officers and was able to secure his injury within seconds. "It's just a wee scratch," he insisted. "From adjusting the turbo engines."

"Dr. McCoy would say you almost severed an artery trying to fix the machinery," she warned him.

Christine tied off the bandage and rolled down his sleeve. "You should be able to get back to work for now. But no combat training," she added, feeling more like her old self again.

Scottie had only been on the Enterprise for four hours but he was already grateful that the heavens had sent Jim Kirk to rescue him from Delta Vega and bring him aboard this magnificent starship. Aside from the energetic Kirk and enthusiastic crew that had welcomed him to their engineering department, he was equally grateful to the nurse who had taken his hunger pains to heart.

"It's not haggis and 'taters," Christine cautioned as she placed a meal tray on the table next to Scottie. "But it's the best we can do under the conditions."

Scottie just tore into the bread-pocket with gusto and washed it down with a mouthful of re-hydrated soup.

Saavik nearly skipped over to Christine with enthusiasm and tugged on her sleeve. "I spoke to Nurse Jiko. She says all of the patients are secured and ready."

"Thank you, Saavik."

"Is there anything else you require?"

Christine looked at the little brown-haired girl affectionately. Saavik had taken a liking to the head nurse and eagerly offered her assistance, even saying she would be Christine's "apprentice" if necessary. Christine was moved by her loyalty but informed Saavik that at the moment she needed an assistant more than an apprentice. Nevertheless, Saavik followed her orders around the sick bay and diligently carried out any minor details that Christine noticed needed attending to.

"Looks like there's not much else to do but wait for them to come back," Christine admitted.

She had gotten everything in place so quickly that McCoy told her to take a few minutes to catch her breath while he waited by the transporter room, ready in case of any emergencies that came up. In the meantime she had re-heated coffee for everyone. The caffeine would give them the jump start they needed for one final attack on the Romulans.

Scottie picked up his mug and raised it in a toast. "To the Enterprise, may she endure and grant us a winning victory!"

"To the Enterprise," Christine agreed. And to my friends, she added to herself.

She watched Scottie take a big swallow of coffee. "Ah," he exhaled happily. "Now I propose another toast to the bonny girls aboard the ship!"

"What does 'bonnie' mean?" asked Savvik.

"It means 'lovely', ye wee lass," Scottie winked. "And someday you may grow up to be as fair and fine as this blue-eyed lass if ye keep workin' aboard a starship."

Christine stole a glance at the monitor screens. "We're closing into Titan. Saavik, can you tell Dr. McCoy that we're all in position?" The sprite-child took the command to heart and nimbly leaped down from the bench to skip off in search of the doctor.

Once Saavik was out of the sick bay Christine took a seat on the bench next to Scottie. "I have to let you know that one of my friends in Starfleet had mentioned your name before. His name was Ben Harrero."

"Harrero? Good ol' Benjy boy!" Scottie acknowledged her message. "Good chap, a fine friend of mine. He was always tellin' me we'd get a holiday off together and go down to see his palm trees."

Christine's face fell slightly when she told Scottie about the Independent's ill-fated end.

"Blown to bits, eh?" Scotty crooked a finger for Christine to listen closer. "I'll tell ye what, lassie. The first round of ammo we fire at them Romulans, we do it for Benjamin John Harrero."

"For Ben," Christine agreed.

A-A-A

Two hours later:

Acting captain's log stardate thirty three oh four two seven—

Oh hell, this isn't even going in the log. I just had to get it down before we disembark the Enterprise otherwise I'm going to forget. Let's just say fate's got a weird way of running the show around here and if I had a credit for every time Bones hollered "Damnit Jim" in my face...but that's another story.

You'd think after we stole back Captain Pike and Nero's "black-hole" device, Spock and I would be safe to transport back onto the Enterprise and return home in victory. I don't think either of us expected to be nearly sucked into that black hole and we would have if Scottie hadn't thought to eject the pod core. Now the ship's taken quite a beating and there's cracks in the panels but for some miraculous reason she's still functioning. If I'm found accused guilty for life then I'll gladly put my years into community service restoring the Enterprise. She's such a beautiful lady and quite vigorously active in space, I may add, from personal experience.

God, I love this ship.

Where was I? Oh yeah, getting away. As soon as the Enterprise was out of danger we began our journey home although I told Sulu to plot an easy course so we wouldn't strain ourselves.

Then suddenly I got a message from Bones to come down to the sick bay along with Spock. I hadn't seen him since we dropped Captain Pike off to be examined so I hoped Bones had some good news about our mentor and leader.

It was bad news.

Bones had Captain Pike under the deepest sedation possible and was elbow deep in surgery. I wasn't surprised that the only other medical officer with him was Nurse Chapel; Bones wouldn't trust anyone else with something so complicated. Saavik, our youngest volunteer aboard the Enterprise, stood poised and ready for a command.

"It's not looking good Jim," he told me. Bones had gotten a zoom-in on Pike's spine using the sonar computer and was pointing to a small but nasty-looking black thing buried in his body. I don't know as much as him about biology, I'll admit that, but whatever was attacking our captain looked repulsive.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

"Judging by the shape of the abdomen and Romulan entomology, I would say it is a mutated version of a Centuarian slug," Spock informed us.

I wasn't too pleased with our situation but at least he had some idea of what we were dealing with. Spock added that they were very rare and hazardous creatures that liked to burrow in dark warm places (like humanoid bodies) before "marking" their territory. The slug must have been tampering with Captain Pike's brain system so Nero could get information out of him.

Did I mention how much I hate Romulans?

Bones got straight to the point. "Well, this slug has been secreting toxins into his body and if it continues to do so, all motor functions will shut down and he'll die."

"So get it out," I ordered him.

"I can't Jim." Bones pointed to the screen. "The slug's latched onto tightly to the captain's spine, right here at the base. Too risky to do surgery. If we tried to pry the slug out of him it could trigger a huge wave of toxins that would kill him instantly."

"Can't you kill the slug?" I asked.

"Not without damaging the captain's spine," Bones answered. "And that might cause permanent brain damage altogether."

"Dr. McCoy is right," Spock added. "The Centuarian slug is still very much alive and lethal. It would be unwise to attempt to remove it."

By now I was really losing patience. I couldn't believe after we had stopped Nero from blasting our ship apart or sucking Earth into a black hole he was going to rob us of Captain Pike. I could almost hear him laughing from the underworld, so damn pleased with himself for getting one last triumph out of his insane plan. I was ready to charge into hell and fight him myself but had to keep a head as acting captain.

"Cut Captain Pike open and zap that parasite with a laser," I felt myself snapping at Bones. "That's an order."

"I told you Jim—the laser would zap through Captain Pike as well!" Bones must've also been feeling the heat after a too-long escapade around the galaxy. "There's no solution."

I was wracking my brains for answers. Until now my thought had been "no-lose scenario" but now we had hit a dead end. But Captain Pike was the only reason I had gotten this far, the only person who saw me as something more than a stupid hicktown boy. I wouldn't let him down.

"Spock, any suggestions? I'm all ears," I told him. No pun intended, of course. Spock said he'd have to go consult his biology programs to find out further details about extracting the slug. I said we hadn't much time to spare but I gotta admit, he was being logical and sensible for once to point out that we couldn't just rip the slug out of Captain Pike.

"Gosh, darnit," Bones fumed. "That's too late! We have to get this parasite out of Pike now or he'll go into shock within the hour."

So there we were: the best doctor in the fleet, an acting captain, and a Vulcan who had just survived near annihilation. Our resources, when pitted together, had saved our ship from total destruction and yet we couldn't get a stupid miserable pathetic four-inch slug to budge. You can imagine how lousy I felt at the time.

Suddenly current nurse was forming a solution while the three of us started fighting—correction—debating again.

"Do we have any Damianatus on board?" Nurse Chapel spoke up.

Bones thought she had lost her marbles and Spock also looked surprised at the suggestion. "You wanna inject that awful stuff into Pike's body too? That'll just kill him faster."

"Not for the captain, doctor. Directly into that slug," Chapel explained. "If we can use the microscope scanner to aim and inject the drug directly into the soft underbelly of the parasite it might release its grip on the captain's spine."

It was a suggestion but it made sense. I looked to Spock for a confirmation.

"A heavy concentration of the drug should kill the creature instantaneously without injuring Captain Pike," Spock debated aloud. "Theoretically."

"If we don't operate then he'll die anyway," I pointed out. We were used to taking risks on this voyage so finally Bones consented to perform the necessary task while Saavik located the small vial of Damianatus on board. (Why they have that crap in the medical kit is beyond me. Gaila and I were up puking half the night because of it.)

We all watched McCoy adjust the microscope so he could pinpoint the most sensitive part of the slug according to Spock. Upon his command, Nurse Chapel slid the needle underneath Captain Pike's skin and injected it straight into the slug. We saw it begin to twitch and I dreaded the worst—it was going nuts. But Nurse Chapel just kept her eyes on that slug and injected every last drop of drug into it.

As soon as she finished what she was doing, the slug stopped twitching. "It's dead, Jim," Bones assured me. With just a pair of sonar tongs and some swift medical maneuver, he managed to pry the dead slug off Captain Pike's spine easily and then threw it into an airtight box.

Spock actually wanted to keep the little bugger to examine it. Bones just shoved it at him hastily. "Good riddance," he added.

"Will the captain be all right?" Saavik spoke up.

"He will be," Bones assured us. "Once we clean the rest of the toxins out of his system. He probably won't walk for a while but all his vitals should be operating smoothly with time."

I thought he'd want Nurse Chapel around for the clean-up but Bones instructed me to take her to the bridge. "She's done more than her fair share of work aboard this ship, Jim. Give her a break." I certainly wasn't one to disagree with him and insisted that Nurse Chapel join Spock and I to the bridge.

She started protesting but I could tell she wanted to see the bridge.

We went up there just as Earth was coming into view on the cracked but still-operating view screen. Everyone just stopped and gazed at our home planet. It never looked so good.

Nurse Chapel took a seat next to Uhura and they both started talking lively to each other. I had forgotten they were constantly separated during the voyage what with Uhura on the bridge and Chapel in the sick bay. At least we had those two ladies on board for a code red situation 'cuz I don't know what we'd do without 'em.

"I don't know how happy Starfleet is going to be when they see us again," I admitted aloud. "We probably broke about 100 rules of protocol and conduct today."

"127 Starfleet regulations, to be precise," Spock added. "19 of them were minor infractions."

"It's worth it," Nurse Chapel said over my shoulder. "Just to see Earth again."

I can safely say that we all agreed with her.

A-A-A

SIX WEEKS LATER:

The view from the rehabilitation center was not considered an appealing one to most of the patients. Then again, Admiral Christopher Pike was not like the other patients.

He was satisfied to observe the reconstruction of the Golden Gate Bridge from his seated position on the green lawn. With his feet wrapped in a blanket and an old-fashioned paperback novel lying open in his lap, he watched the crew working hard and quickly across the bay to repair what damage had been caused by Nero's drill.

Just a few hours ago he had initiated the ceremony at Starfleet Academy promoting Cadet Kirk to Captain James Tiberius Kirk, reporting for duty aboard the Enterprise. Amidst the thundering applause of his instructors and cheers from his fellow cadets, Kirk had stood tall and proud while accepting his medal of honor for "original thinking".

Christopher Pike was certainly relieved. The Enterprise was going to be in good hands from now on.

A few musical bells chimed announcing the appearance of a visitor, followed by a young woman's voice.

"Admiral Pike?"

She had come a long way since the feeble shy girl from Minnesota a few years ago. With a glowing face and bright eyes, Christine came forward and placed a bouquet of flowers on the table next to him. "I hope your recovery is coming along all right," she said.

"Well enough, thank you." He motioned for her to sit down in the chair next to him. Christine took her seat and folded her hands in her lap. She suspected that the admiral had not asked her to come merely for a social visit but Christine waited for him to initiate the conversation.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to talk to you today," Pike began. Christine nodded. "But before I go further I'd like to know what's on your mind."

Christine pondered his comment for a moment. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn, sir. I would never want to disgrace you or your honor."

"Whatever we talk about here is confidential," he assured her. "You can speak freely."

"Very well." Christine drew a lock of hair behind one ear and looked at Pike. "I haven't give it much attention until now. After a terrifying experieince in space you learn to reorganize your priorities. I started thinking about my parents."

"And what do you remember about them?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. Their records were destroyed during the crisis of the virus," Christine admitted. She closed her eyes for a moment. "My father had me transfered to someone who got me to the hospital but I don't know his name. I don't even remember his face."

She opened her eyes. "And then I started thinking about the time you saw me at the Winter Solace. Captain Christopher Pike and Ms. Christine Chapel. They're common enough names but Admiral, I would be grateful if you told me the truth. Are you my father?"

He shook his head at her. "No, I'm not your father, Ms. Chapel. That is the truth, though not all of it entirely."

"I don't understand."

Pike smiled at her. "I have a story to share."

"When I was a young aspiring officer, around Kirk's age, I met a dancer at the Sydney Opera House named Marion Rivers. I courted her for a few weeks, hoping she'd follow me back to San Francisco for good. But Marion didn't accept my offer. She said she was fond of me but said she couldn't make me happy.

"I got quite angry with her. I left Sydney, fuming and vowing never to forgive her for rejecting me. That's where Kirk and I are different: if he was in my shoes he'd laugh it off and move onto the next girl. But I was still so head over heels for Marion. It wasn't until years later when I was commanding my own ship did I see Marion again. I was in Tennessee when my team was referred to a fine town doctor named Albert Chapel. He was Marion's husband and your father."

Christine was being attentive to every word he said.

"Your parents had been married for three years when I arrived in Tennessee. Marion was round as a dumpling and very pregnant with you but never looked so happy in her life. Your father was a frank decent man who loved his wife and gave us the medical assistance we needed. I offered him a position in Starfleet but he declined politely. He wanted to open up his own practice. He liked being his own boss and doing this his own way…not unlike a certain Dr. McCoy we both know," Pike added with a smile.

"I still felt obligated to do something for Marion and her family and managed to put in a good word for Dr. Chapel to jumpstart his career. He thanked me most kindly and promised me that when they had their baby they'd name it after me."

Pike leaned back in his chair.

"We lost touch for a while. Then 15 years ago, the Federation had to send teams in to tackle the Proxi-Atom virus that was sweeping across North America. I received a transmission from Albert Chapel. He said the virus had struck him and his wife and it was too late to save either of them. He begged me to take his daughter away somewhere safe.

"I got the girl to a hospital just in time but was urgently called away for further duty. It must have been the chaos of the disease because so many files and names got mixed up during that terrible time. By the time I managed to get back in touch with the hospital, they told me that Albert and Marion's child had passed away.

Christine's knuckles were white. He went on.

"I guess time makes you forget things. But twelve years later I was in Iowa with new fresh cadets when I caught Jim Kirk in a bar-room fight. He was a brash angry punk with no future whatsoever but so determined to fight that I couldn't let him waste his life away. I knew his father and felt I owed Jim a chance to prove himself. That got me to looking over other candidates in the Midwest."

"At first I thought it was a coincidence but Mrs. Donovan assured me there was no mistake when I pulled up your file: a girl named Christine Chapel had survived the virus and was living in a Sanctuary House. She was a pale little thing but from the moment I saw her skate onto the ice I knew she had Marion's face and Albert's eyes."

Pike saw Christine's eyes begin to brim with tears. He reached over and took her hand. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save them."

"No," she insisted, swallowing the lump in her throat. "You did all that you could for my family."

"But I should've done more for you," Pike insisted. "Starfleet's not for everyone, as you may have noticed. The intensity might have killed you."

"And it didn't,' Christine pointed out. "I've worked so hard to prove myself because I thought I could make it on my own. Now I realize you were the one pulling the strings all this time."

"Don't do that, Christine," Pike insisted firmly when he saw her head drop slightly.

"Don't hang your head down and berate yourself. Don't you recognize how much you've accomplished, Christine? You worked hard to become a suitable officer. You stood up to your judges at a trial and helped our campus avoid a deadly crisis. And McCoy's report regarding your performance aboard the Enterprise's maiden voyage was nothing less than superb."

"You did all of this on your own. Be proud of what you have accomplished, Christine."

"I only wish I could do more," she said at last. "Vulcan is destroyed and so many lives were lost. One nurse can only do so much."

"One person can inspire millions," Pike pointed out. He waved a hand out to the construction around the Golden Gate Bridge. "Do you think one person is building that thing up again? Or is it a team working together, everyone putting the pieces into place? I dare you to name people who made an impact on this world with their inspiration and actions, if you know any at the top of your head."

"Of course I know them," she insisted. "Marie Curie, Marc Chagall, Thomas Edison, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Helen Keller-"

Christine stopped counting names off her fingers. Pike, who now looked very satisfied with her answer.

"I think I'm starting to understand what you mean," she said to him.

For a long minute neither of them spoke.

"You loved my mother," Christine said at last.

"Very much," Pike confessed. "So if you can overlook this cynical old man and his wreckless attitude, I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

"There's no need for that because there's nothing to forgive," Christine admitted. A tear of grattitude glistened in the corner of her eye. "I've felt more alive than ever since I joined Starfleet. And it's all thanks to you."

Pike reached out with one hand and gently drew his thumb across her brow. The resemblance between Marion Chapel and her daughter was striking.

"I always knew you'd do us some good," he said at last. "I just never knew I'd be the recipient of that goodness. You and Dr. McCoy saved my life aboard the Enterprise. I'm grateful for that and for you."

"You saved my life once many years ago," Christine added. "Why don't we call it even?"

A-A-A

Since the return of the Enterprise all of the officers on board seemed to have become overnight celebrities.

Everyone wanted to get to know the heroic crew that had saved their planet and constantly tried to win their approval. Christine was among the lucky few but despite the sudden promotion of popularity and social approval, she preferred to stay close to her old-time friends. If Janice warned her that throngs of followers were expected to arrive at her dorm room, she'd slip away to the ocean and swim to her heart's content.

Pike informed Christine that the Enterprise crew would be honored at a small foral ceremony in a few days. The reason for the unpretentious invitation was not to attract jealousy of other cadets or show disrespect to the ships lost in the battle.

Nevertheless, he insisted that she be there to attend the ceremony at the T'vol Conservatory along with the rest of the crew. Christine assured the admiral that she'd be there.

But first she had something important to do.

A-A-A

Bachi Ko was mopping up water from the floor of the While Lotus when Christine walked in. Every step she took made a squelching soggy sound on the water-stained carpets.

"Uhura told me what happened here," she said to him. "Are you all right?"

"Well, I'm fine," Bachi admitted as he wiped his bushy face with a handkerchief. "But y'see that crazy drill did some damage to the surrounding buildings including this one. The White Lotus was flooded for almost a month before they let me back in."

He gestured to the soaking lounge that lay in disarray around him. "So if you don't mind my being blunt, I'm in over my head. I've got to make some money fast or else the White Lotus is going down for good."

Christine took a step closer. "A little bird told me that you've got an antique to sell."

Bachi nodded. "I sure do. Would you like to see it?"

Christine nodded. Bachi went into the back room and came out with a large heavy case. "This was one of the few things I got into a watertight container. I'm lucky it's still in good condition," he explained.

She had never seen a harp made on Vulcan before but it was certainly incredible, having been sculpted from honey-colored wood and polished to a bright warm sheen. It was adorned with tiny white stones and engraved with delicate lettering.

"How much did you expect to get from this?" Christine asked.

Bachi shrugged. "Enough to save my lounge. The museum downtown said they'd take it for 30,000 since it's suddenly become a rare commodity."

The numbers were staggering for Christine but she pursued forth.

"What if you had something just as good to sell?" she offered. Before Bachi could respond she had opened up her own valise and taken out the ice skates.

Bachi held one up to the light and watch the gems glitter. "Parthian crystals, my goodness. Are these skates authentic?"

Chrisitine nodded. "A genuine prize from the Winter Solace Competition. They'd go for 30,000 too, wouldn't they?"

"Sure can." But then he noticed the name imprinted on the leather in vision-ink and quickly shook his head. "They've got your name on them, Ms. Chapel. I can't accept your offer."

"They're mine to sell or trade, Bachi," she insisted firmly. "Please me have the harp and you can sell the skates instead. Use the money to fix this place up."

The sincerity in tone made Bachi think it over. "Well, all right," he admitted at last. "If you've sure about it."

"Quite sure," Christine assured him.

With one last longing look at her skates, she sighed inwardly and handed them over to Bachi. Dissapointment was replaced with satisfaction as he put the harp back into its case and carefully handed it to Christine.

"Be careful with the relic," he cautioned her.

"I will," she assured him. "Do you have an errand boy around here?"

"Eric," Bachi called. A lanky teen carrying his solar-board under one arm strolled out of the back door and walked over to Christine. "Eric'll take care of anything you need," Bachi assured her. "I'm going to sell these skates first thing in the morning."

Eric touched the brim of his cap. "What can I do for you, miss?"

She took a credit piece out of her pocket and tapped it twice on the table. "Please deliver this case to Commander Spock at Starfleet Academy at once."

"Sure thing miss," he replied cheerfully, noticing the extra tip she had added on.

"One more thing," Christine added. "If the commander asks where it came from then tell him its an anonymous gift."

A-A-A

Starfleet Academy Dormitory:

"That's the problem with a code red situation," Gaila explained to Janice, who was sampling a new lip balm and checking herself in the mirror.

"Starfleet's so busy getting the ships out that they forgot about our 'parking brake'. No wonder our ship couldn't reach warp drive!" Gaila exclaimed. "I dunno enough about engineering but we had barely started the mission when suddenly we had to turn around and head back to Starfleet for repairs. I guess it saved our lives from being blasted to smithereens."

"Same here," Janice added. "I was coughing for days after all that smoke. Who knew the drill could set fire to the east wing?"

"Who knew to evaccuate to the South Sea Gate? "Uhura asked. "At least the city's getting everything back to normal." She was careful to recline sideways in an arm chair so as not to wrinkle her dress.

The girls' relaxing afternoon was interrupted with the door opened up and Christine walked in, humming pleasantly to herself. She was slightly damp and sunburned.

"Where have you been?" Gaila shrieked. "You've got half an hour until the reception!'

"I do?"

Uhura set the book aside and rose from her seat. Christine noticed she was elegantly dressed in a deep purple gown instead of her uniform. Her nails had been manicured, her hair had been let down, and she wore gold hoop earrings.

"Uh oh," Christine muttered, covering her mouth with her hands. "I guess I lost track of time."

Gaila bounced off the bed, followed by Janice. "Emergency evasive," she announced aloud. "Operation Lightning has begun. Lieutenant Uhura, report for duty."

"Yes, ma'am," Uhura smiled good-naturedly. She began rummaging through the cosmetics box while Janice was ushered Christine into the bathroom. Within minutes shriekds were heard from the bathroom. "Ow! OW!" Christine shouted. "I can scrub my own hair, Janice!"

While Janice was running Christine through a speedy shower, Gaila was unwrapping paper sheets from a recent purchase bag. She took out a mass of gauzy material that rustled gently in her arms.

"Is it supposed to glow like that?" Uhura asked. Gaila just held it up to the light and Uhura's face altered into one of amazement. Impressed, she let two fingers slide through the soft material.

"Apripo Fashion in New York City says it's their limited autumn line," Gaila chatted on. "Did you hear the news? Mr. Apripo recently married his executive secretary, Buru Noir."

Janice's head stuck out of the bathroom. "You're joking!" she exclaimed while ushering the newly-scrubbed Christine back into the bedroom.

"Nope. Read the headlines," Uhura insisted. She turned on the monitor screen and pointed to a flickering article. "Thomas Apripo married Beru Noir, social butterfly of Centari Moon. They're running the business together now."

"Fine with me so long as she doesn't set foot back in Starfleet," Gaila remarked.

Janice had already yanked a brush through Christine's hair before adding some finishing touches. The manicure-machine fixed Christine's chipped nails, which had taken a harsh beating in the Enterprise after constant rounds of disinfecting and tearing bandages. At least now her fingers were clean and soft again.

"Here's your dress," Gaila announced, handing her purchase to Christine. The light material was a shade of powder-blue and covered in a thin film of gauzy silver fabric. She helped Christine zip it up and watched her twirl around in delight. The dress made a delicious rustling sound when she moved.

"We'd better go before Admirak Pike changes his mind," Uhura smirked.

A-A-A

Jonathan Ben-Lachi had recovered from his wounds and was in the conservatory waiting for the rest of his friends to arrive. Two women in particular caught his attention: the stylish Uhura in amethyst robes and blue-eyed Christine in a silvery dress.

They were walking arm in arm and laughing together until Jim Kirk approached them. He straightened up in his captain's uniform and snapped off a sharp salute. "Lieutenant Uhura, Nurse Chapel," he announced. "Would you do me the honor of letting me escort you two lovely ladies into the main hall?"

"We'd be delighted," Uhura answered him. Christine was relieved to see them on speaking terms as she linked one arm with the captain and watched Uhura take the other. A Jim Kirk of some time ago would have gloated all the way into the main room to be seen with two such pretty girls. But a trialing experience can bring out maturity from within a person.

So it was no wonder to Admiral Pike when he saw Captain Kirk walk into the next room with both ladies. The captain's face showed the uttermost dignity and charm.

Pike waited for everyone to be assembled before starting his speech. While he was still confined to the auto-chair his presence still had a tremendous impact on everyone in the room. Christine noticed that behind the admiral was a table stacked with many glittering objects made of precious metals and stones. There were several velvet boxes as well.

"Several days ago we honored a distinguished member of our services who saved countless lives in the face of danger. That man is Captain James T. Kirk." A round of applause followed Pike's words but he raised a hand for silence.

"But I speak on behalf of the entire Academy when I say that these achievements could not have been done alone. Together with perseverance and teamwork you saved this planet from destruction. We honor each and every one of your tonight for loyalty to your duties, your fellow officers, and to the great causes that we strive for."

More applause followed until Admiral Pike beckoned a hand out to Sulu.

"Helmsan Hikaru Sulu, please come forward."

Christine watched the helmsman walk up to the admiral. Still reclining in his seat but in full command, Pike picked up a box from the table and opened it up revealing a round gold compact inlaid with red and blue enamel.

"In recognition of your actions in the face of combat duty, we honor you with this authentic Italian compass."

Sulu beamed with delight. He accepted the box from the admiral and saluted while everyone else applauded.

"Ensign Pavel Chekov," Pike announced next.

Chekov gulped and straightened his collar before approaching Pike.

"For your ideal thinking in tactics and battle planning," Pike nodded to the young man. This time the gift took two hands to carry it as Pike passed Chekov a long leather cylinder. Chekov's hands trembled when he opened it up and found inside a handmade brass telescope complete with classic 19th century gears and dials.

"Oh thank you so wery wery much," he said with a deep bow before returning to his position.

Uhura received a silver ring studded with rubies. "For unmatched skills in xenolinguistics and being an inspiration to us all," Pike said. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Uhura."

More badges and presents followed. Christine recognized Jonathan Ben-Lachi who received a medal of courage for saving three lives during the Romulan attack. Scotty was awarded with the bronze cast of 20th century aircraft and set in a chunk of black marble. Christine didn't know much about the model but she presumed it had great significance to the engineer who kept saying, "Thank ye admiral," and bobbing his head up and down.

A few more officers were called forward, including Commander Spock. "For analytical thinking in a time of crisis," Pike nodded to him as he pinned a brilliant silver badge to Spock's jacket.

While Spock remained stoic as ever, his expression suggested a more reserved attitude. He did not seem to bask in the recognition given to him, only acknowledging his gratitude to his superior officers by saluting appropriately to the admiral and—much to her surprise—stopping to salute to Captain Kirk.

He's been humbled, she realized to herself. Perhaps the presence of Sarek and Saavik at the ceremony had something to do with it. She watched him give a brief nod of respect to his father and fellow kin as he walked back to rejoin the rest of the Enterprise crew. For a brief moment Spock cast a quick but noticeable glance at Christine, who wondered if he had gotten his "anonymous" package.

"This had better end soon," Dr. McCoy suddenly muttered under his breath to her left. Christine couldn't help but smile at his usual cantankerous attitude. It meant things were back to normal.

"I'm sure it's just protocol," she assured him in a whisper.

"Hmmph," McCoy grunted, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, I hope to hell they don't try to honor me. I'm just a man doing my job. Doctors don't need puffing up. I don't want any of this pomp and circumstance—"

"Dr. Leonard McCoy," came the remark on cue.

"What'd I tell you?" McCoy grumbled. Nevertheless, he walked up to Pike and saluted smartly. Pike was holding a blue wooden box.

"Your tireless effort to save the lives of your crewmen has not gone unnoticed. We would be honored if you would accept this handmade Swiss watch as a token of our esteem to the Enterprise's chief medical officer."

Christine saw a glimmer of silver from inside the box before Pike placed the pocketwatch in McCoy's hand. The doctor had become quiet and bewildered at the sight of the gift. She made extra sure to clap loud enough again but Jim Kirk was applauding first before everyone else did for Dr. McCoy.

"Well, I dunno about that," Dr. McCoy admitted feebly when he stood by Christine again and fingered the silver chain. She could tell he was rather taken aback. "But this here's a fine watch. They don't make 'em like they used to."

She glanced over his shoulder to see a Latin message engraved on the cover.

"Estote Parati?" she read aloud.

"It means 'be prepared'," McCoy explained.

"Nurse Christine Chapel," he said aloud. And just like hearing her name called at the boarding dock, she approached with a mixture of shock and amazement.

The box for Christine was made of blue velvet. Opening it up revealed a gold medallion surrounded with a silver braid. The front of the medallion had been engraved with the Starfleet symbol and fused with three bright diamonds.

He motioned for her to come forward. "This medallion is to acknowledge your selfless actions and noble concern for the lives of others in the face of an overwhelming obstacle. Thank you, Nurse Chapel."

As Christine bent her had forward and felt Pike place the smooth shining chain around her neck, she hoped she had made her parents proud. One of her hands covered the medallion, a thumb rubbing over the smooth surface to insure herself that this wasn't a dream. She meant to salute to him but Pike extended a calloused palm that she accepted in a quick but vigorous handshake.

After Pike concluding the ceremony, the officers mingled among themselves and complimented one another on their gifts. Everyone felt a deep sense of awe and admiration for one another, Christine noticed. Nobody took the honor for themselves; they all knew who it really belonged to.

Christine broke away from talking to Jonathan long enough to approach Sarek and Saavik and thank them for all of their help during the journey. Sarek did not speak with great animation like so many others in the room but his grave eyes spoke enough to Christine. She could tell he was proud of his son.

"Where will you go from here?" Christine asked him.

"I want to enlist in Starfleet," Saavik announced.

Sarek glanced down at the small girl. "Regulation cites that you must be at least sixteen years old to enroll in the academy. In the meantime you would do best to advance your studies on the colony."

Saavik did not exactly pout but Christine noticed a slight protrusion of her lower lip marking her dissatisfaction at the news. Christine felt a laugh coming on. "We'll be in touch, Saavik. I promise I'll send you transmissions every week."

Saavik looked hopeful. "Is that your word?"

"Yes, it is my word. And before you go I have something for you." Christine went to fetch the parting gift she had left in the foyer: a single pink rose in a clay pot. Christine wasn't completely certain about the climate of the new colony but it couldn't hurt for Saavik to take the flower back with her. And if Vulcans were as persistent in botany as other fields of science, she suspected they'd find a way to make more flowers bloom in the desert.

Saavik's surprise was thinly veiled by Vulcan courtesy as she receive it with outstretched hands from Christine, the faintest of smiles upon her lips. She tucked the pot tucked carefully under one arm while the other was raised up to Christine, the fingers spread apart in a V-shaped symbol.

"Live long and prosper, Christine Chapel," Saavik announced.

It took Christine's fingers a few seconds to repeat the gesture but nevertheless she managed to match the gesture of Saavik and Sarek. They lowered their hands and turned to leave the conservatory.

A while later, Christine recognized the itchy feeling that tingled in her feet. Time for a walk on the beach, she thought. Quietly she managed to slip out of the crowd and started going up the staircase leading outside.

Christine had almost finished the steps elderly man standing on the landing. She gave him a polite nod and would have walked on further had he not spoken.

"Christine," he said. The voice had an unusual tone to it, worn the efforts of time but firm and warm on her ears as if he had said her name before.

She turned around to face the Vulcan. He looked even older than Sarek. And yet something familiar and good-natured in his eyes was familiar.

"Do we know each other?" she asked..

He did not answer but the glimmer of a smile tweaked in one corner of his mouth. "I hope," he said slowly, "That you remember to make plomeek soup from time to time."

If it was a joke then it was lost on Christine's ears. "I can make soup when needed to," she admitted. "Why did you say that? Who are you?"

"A friend," he said at last. She could not comprehend his elusive nature and yet looking at him she felt something stir inside.

"Well," she said as she smoothed out her dress and felt a smile coming on. "I can always use another friend."

Wishing him a good night, Christine opened the door and walked out into the starry night, unaware of the steady gaze of deep brown eyes that followed her on the way out.

A-A-A

It was not logical for Spock to receive a badge from an officer that he was obligated to serve but nevertheless, he had accepted it. At least the ceremony had been in fact small and tasteful, just as Admiral Pike had assured him.

He was still persistent as ever to prove himself. But at least for now the demons that plagued his soul were gone. The memory of Amanda Grayson lingered in his mind but he resolved to use the most of his life to honor everything his mother cherished.

Inwardly, Spock acknowledged that the ocean had a tranquil effect on others. He found himself walking along the beach, his boots sinking in softly into the sand while the waves made a murmuring sound in his ears. All this water, in contrast to Vulcan's desert world, made Earth just as unique and special as his mother had promised him.

Only now had he decided to advantage of it.

While other students had frolicked on the beach and swam in the waters, Spock had remained locked in his studies and work. Now as he continued his smooth pleasant stroll and felt the warm night air ruffle through his hair, he wondered what he had been missing.

Someone else was walking on the beach. She wasn't exactly parallel to him and he knew they would intersect if they went along their continued courses.

Christine Chapel stopped in her tracks when she realized Spock was no more than a few yards from her. She was still wearing her dress but had removed her shoes so her feet could wiggle in the sand dreely.

Spock's uniform had been replaced with a traditional Vulcan tunic and cloak and he had a satchel slung over one shoulder. Christine thought the flowing grace of the long cloak suited his tall frame much better than the restrictive jacket he had just worn an hour ago.

She glanced aside shyly but seeing he would not avoid her, finally looked him in the eye.

"Ms. Chapel," he said. "It is fortunate that I was able to find you out at this hour."

Christine waved a hand out to the ocean. "A night walk on the beach can be soothing. I like to listen to the ocean before I go to sleep."

"Indeed." His gaze shifted to the pendant she wore around her neck. "Did you not read the inscription?" he asked her.

"Inscription?" Christine's hand came to her necklace to examine it closer. "No, I-" Upon the touch of her hand, the medallion sprang open revealing two sides of a locket. Inside was a Latin inscription not unlike the one on Dr. McCoy's watch.

"Possnut que-equai," she tried to read aloud.

Possnut quai pose vindentur," Spock said.

"What does it mean?"

"Roughly translated it says, 'They can because they think they can."

Christine turned the message over in her mouth. "How inspirational." She looked back at Spock. "It is a coincidence that we met each other on the beach?"

"A coincidence, or only practical because your friend Ms. Rand said you walk here often. I have something to show you." Spock reached into his satchel and took out the harp. He held it in both hands with careful expertise.

Christine exhaled deeply.

"This is a very rare commodity," Spock said at last.

"Do you like it?" Christine asked timidly.

Instead of answering her question, Spock sat down on an old wooden bench and gestured for her to do as well. Realizing by now that there was no animosity or disdain from the Vulcan, Christine sat next to him.

She watched him place the harp in his lap and lean it against his chest. His eyes closed and his fingers touched the strings. As Spock's tapering fingertips deftly ran across the harp, an ethereal flicker of music came out of the instrument. The notes came slowly but persistently until she heard a gentle symphony streaming from the harp. She sat on the bench for several minutes, completely enraputed by the music.

"That was beautiful," she said at last when he completed his piece.

"Since you were the benefactor of this harp I thought you should be first to hear it."

"I'm honored," Christine admitted genuinely.

As surprised as the encounter had been, nothing could prepare Christine for what came next. Spock drew a wrapped bundle out of the satchel and handed it to Christine. She unwrapped the blanket and found a pair of skates.

"As much as I appreciate your gesture, I do not think it is necessary for you to sacrifice personal items to satisfy my needs," he said. "Therefore I am returning these to you."

"I don't understand," she murmured as she ran a hand over the ice skates.

"Mr. Ko required credits over any articles of value," Spock explained. "I convinced him it would be logical if he let me redeem the skates for a substantial monetary sum."

"You paid to get my skates back?" Christine was numbed at Spock's gesture.

"You were not the only one who received a token of gratitude from the Casparus factory," he informed her. "Financial compensation convinced Mr. Ko to sell the skates to me so that he can restore his business. It should be fully operational at the end of the month."

"I'm glad to hear it," Christine smiled, running a finger along the curve of her skates.

"Do you always receive such satisfaction from the successes of others?" Spock inquired.

She hesitated before speaking again. "It depends on how close I am to someone. But I'm especially happy to hear good news from my friends."

"Then as a fellow member of the Enterprise crew I must ask," Spock's voice softened as he chose his words carefully. "If you think we are capable of setting aside previous arguments and have the potential to become friends."

The long silence that followed could not be deciphered by Spock. He had several ideas of what the young nurse was thinking but was unable to predict which one she would say.

"It's not impossible. But you have a lot of power inside of you, Mr. Spock, perhaps more than you realize," she confessed at last. "I saw how Kirk made you lose your temper on board the ship. It worries me at times when I think how much of it is brewing under the surface even if you don't tell everyone."

"Would it surprise you," Spock said slowly. "If I told you that Vulcans and Romulans share a common ancestor?"

She had to digest the new piece of information, "I suppose not," Christine admitted. "You're both determined to get what you want even if you use different methods." She paused and added, "I'm glad the Vulcans are our allies."

A human would have answered with a brief chuckle. Spock had another piece of information to share.

"On Vulcan my peers considered me inferior because of my birthright. I never wanted to stoop to their level and so I retreated into my studies, forcing myself to rise above everyone's expectations. But in doing so I became proud. I neglected the teachings of my mentors and the advice of my parents.

"Upon arriving at Starfleet I hoped to earn a respectable place among the other cadets. But my pride continued to separate me from socializing or recognizing kindred spirits. I preferred success and perfection to the friendship of most people, considering myself superior because of my Vulcan intelligence.

He hesitated. "And I have paid the price for my insolence."

"You mustn't blame yourself," she insisted gently. "Your errors are in the past. And you have many good qualities within you, Spock. We couldn't have performed the mission without you or Jim Kirk. And besides, you both make a good team," Christine added.

"You were not unwise to speak out against me. I have been accustomed to a firm and considerate hand under my parents but seldom kept my pride in check. Perhaps now I will be wiser in the future."

Spock turned to face her. "Will you help me, Ms. Chapel?"

She was surprised. "Help you? How?"

"Your empathy for others offers strength and solace. I have known that medicine can heal a patient's physical ailments but now have come to realise the importance of emotional healing."

"I can't teach compassion to anyone," Christine admitted. "There's no manual for reading someone's heart. It comes by constant action and communication."

"Then I will learn to listen," Spock concluded. "And learn by example if you will permit me."

"Of course I will," Christine agreed.

They rose to leave. "I hope that we will become good friends, Mr. Spock," she added with a hint of optimism in her voice. "And perhaps we may learn more about each other in the future."

"I agree." A moment of silent respect came between them as they allowed the words of their conversation to sink in.

Spock picked up his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. "Good night, Ms. Chapel."

"My name is Christine," she reminded him with a slight smile. "Feel free to use it."

He nodded knowingly. "Thank you, Christine."

"You're welcome, Mr. Spock. And good night."

Spock walked off in one direction, his footsteps even and his pace steady even on the ripples of the sand.

But in the other direction, Christine had felt a surge of energy come and broken out into a vigorous run across the beach.

The future lay before her like the nighttime sky, clear and sparkling with wonderful opportunities that she couldn't wait to meet.

END

"In our life there is a single color, as on an artist's palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love."

-Marc Chagall

A-A-A

Author's note: Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers for your ongoing and generous support. I hope you have enjoyed reading Christine's story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Some of you requested a "shipping" story but in the end, I have decided to leave Christine's future (and her romance) up for you to decide.