For three days after Kirk's announcement, Nyota had been in a happy, excited glow; giddy and nervous at the same time. Within minutes of hearing their new orders, she had sent off two high-priority messages: one to Spock, warning him of the early rendezvous; and one to New Vulcan, stating their projected arrival date. She then spent many of her off hours preparing a delicious array of surprises to welcome her man back home—privately, in her quarters and his.

That was three days ago. Sent by subspace priority, both messages should have reached their intended targets by now. But, keen as she was to pick up every distant call, neither Spock nor the Vulcans had yet responded.

Kirk hung over her shoulder, frowning at her control panel as if he could make it pull the messages out of the ether by the power of his glare. "You're sure he's got it by now?" he asked for the sixth time.

Nyota was too agitated to take offense, although she did her best to hide it. "We're closing the distance to Emagious III steadily," she said, knowing that Kirk didn't give a flip about the Vulcans at the new colony. He would in due course; but for the moment, their thoughts were focused on one Vulcan in particular, who currently was located in the opposite direction.

"At high priority," Nyota continued, "Spock would have received the message at least 36 hours ago. At the rate we're traveling, we can expect any response he sent since then to reach us in a matter of hours."

"Except that it hasn't."

"No, sir." Nyota widened her search field, just in case.

"Which means he can't have sent a response yet," Kirk said grimly.

"Or that it's on its way," Nyota countered, feeling obligated to stay positive.

"Has he ever been this slow in responding before?"

Nyota was tempted to say that sometimes the slow response was best, but kept her randy thoughts to herself. He was fine, she told herself firmly. Spock was fine.

"He does occasionally spend the night away from the shuttlecraft," she said in a smoothly professional tone that she felt, quite honestly, did a lot of credit to her character. "And since Emagian days are longer than ours, his response is sometimes delayed by a couple of standard days."

"So, given that you sent the message two days ago, his response should have, at latest, reached us this morning."

Spock is fine, she repeated to herself. Aloud, she answered, "Yes, sir. That was my expectation."

Kirk tapped a forefinger against his lips. "Has he ever spent more than a day away from the shuttlecraft?"

"Not that I'm aware of. But... our messages usually are spaced out by several days. It's possible that he could have done so without telling me."

Kirk gave her a wry smile. "Which would suit our inscrutable Vulcan down to the ground, don't you think?"

Nyota tried to smile back. She didn't like the idea of Spock deceiving her, but—as he knew her propensity to worry, it was entirely possible that he had chosen not to share the full extent of his planet-side activities with her. "It's... possible, sir."

"All right." Kirk straightened up, cares cast aside. Nyota wished she could banish her fears so easily. "We won't worry about it for another day or so."

"In another day and a half," Nyota reminded him, "we'll be there."

"Right. And if he still hasn't responded, we can give Spock holy hell over not answering our messages."

Nyota smiled. "Thank you, sir."

They both jumped as her console beeped. Nyota's hands leapt to the controls as if they were rocket powered. She jammed the signal amplifier into her ear, listening intently to catch the first thread of the transmission.

She relaxed slightly with her disappointment, and then looked up at Kirk. "It's a subspace transmission from New Vulcan."

Kirk raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's one out of two. Let's hear it, Lieutenant."

She pressed the appropriate button. A mechanical-sounding voice—far more cold-blooded than Spock could sound on his worst day—played from the speaker.

"Enterprise, greetings from New Vulcan. We await your arrival at the scheduled time. Due to the kashek-shoret wak, all transactions will be handled remotely in order to minimize disturbing influences. Your cooperation is appreciated. New Vulcan, out."

Kirk blinked. "That's it?"

"Very welcoming," Sulu muttered from his station.

Nyota checked her readings. "That's all, Captain. End of message."

"Huh." He straightened. "I told Pike they wouldn't say 'Thank you.'"

"Excuse me," Chekov called from his station. "Vhat is this? Kashek... kashek-something vak?"

"Kashek-shoret wak," Nyota answered. "It's... well, I don't really know what it is."

Kirk looked surprised. "You can't translate it?"

"Well, of course I can translate it. It means, literally, 'Time of the mind call'—something like that."

"So you know what they're saying, but you don't know what it means," Kirk clarified.

"That's right. It's an unusual term. 'Minds calling,' 'Time of calling minds...'" Nyota shook her head. "I think I would have remembered the phrase if I'd run across it before."

"Hmm. More mystery from our enigmatic Vulcan friends." Kirk caught her eye. "Could Spock tell you what it means?"

"Probably."

"All right. Once we get him on board, we'll ask him." Kirk gave her a sour face. "Unless you think it's worth our while to call New Vulcan back for an illumination."

Nyota laughed. "I don't think so, sir."

Kirk let out a weary sigh. "Okay. Send a standard acknowledgment of the message, Lieutenant. We'll figure out what they're talking about in, you know, 1.735 days or whatever."

"Actually, Keptain," Chekov said hesitantly, "it is 1.62 days until our expected arrival."

Kirk waved a hand. "Well, that's just another reason for us to get Spock back here! With him around, we'll always have the correct numbers after our decimal points."

Chekov looked troubled, no doubt uncertain as to whether or not he should take his captain seriously. "Yes, sir."

Nyota slanted Kirk a look. "You're wicked," she murmured.

"I do my best."

"Don't you mean you do your worst?"

He gave her an encouraging smile. "Whatever works, Lieutenant." He patted the back of her chair, and moved away. "Hang in there."

Nyota set about acknowledging the signal. It was hardly the work of a moment. Then she sat quietly, intently, waiting for word from Spock.

She was listening still hours after her shift had ended, even Mallory had turned in. But Spock never sent word.