The cross-continent flight was swift and uncommonly smooth. Whatever her temperamental failings, the admiral was an excellent pilot to make up for her mtterings about not being able to go on the mission. She landed them crisply. As they emerged into the afternoon near the Carbon Creek Community Center, large red flowers spilled spicy fragrance into the air. The rest of the shuttle passengers went on ahead, but Spock stopped to look at one and Kirk stayed with him. "Svai. These used to grow just at the edge of the Forge."

"I'm surprised they can grow here."

"They're quite adaptable, unlike most of the Remnant." Spock poked at the flower's central cone. "It may be unacceptable to pick and eat these here, although they're good."

"I wouldn't dare try it."

"I'm reasonably certain they wouldn't bother you, based on the pattern of your other allergies." He let go of the flower, but did not go on. "One last time, Jim: are you certain?"

Of course he would ask where no one was near enough to hear their words, let alone their thoughts. You, me and the moon, as the Romulans said. "You're going, I'm going."

"That's what you said about New Vulcan. I believe you may have found that unpleasant."

Three weeks of hell, two major battles and sights he would never forget were all of that, but the exhaustion had gone away, the wounds had healed and he now knew numerous people who didn't mind that he was alive. "In Vulcan terms, the knowledge and experience gained outweighed the negatives. I expect the same of this mission and I'm honored to be invited."

Spock very nearly smiled and did reach out with the tip of a forefinger to trace the top of his ear. "Dr. McCoy seems to believe you are serious. I should as well."

"Oddly enough, I kind of like 'em. He made me promise to let him pull the tips as soon as we're done, but I get to keep Mestral's stem cells because they got rid of my peanut allergy."

"You may also appreciate lowered oxygen requirements when you're rock climbing."

"I will. More than that..." He hesitated; too much? Spock mentally encouraged him to speak. "When I see your family, I see what made you. I know you and your dad had interesting times and will again, but he's a good argument, as my grandmother used to say."

"I agree. Prime says that in their worst of times, they did not speak as father and son, but they never failed to argue in useful ways."

"As for your great-grandfathers, I feel fortunate to know them."

"Many people feel that way about Solkar. Mestral is not such a favorite with the elders."

"Your grandmother T'Rana seems like an interesting person as well."

"When she is not angry, she can be a most worthy ally."

"Your grandfather Skon is another matter, or so I hear."

That time he did smile. "I had forgotten you have not met him. The awkward timeline..." Spock shook his head. Due to a time distortion, during the New Vulcan mess everyone had the distinct impression that Spock's grandfather had been dead for many years. A slight restoration had left him as alive and well as anyone who had survived va'Pak was likely to be. Better still, a slew of happy memories had returned with the timeline repair.

"I know this is all normal to you. It's just...I don't have that. My father was a legend, not a real person. I knew Grandma Kirk for all of a month. Kodos sent her off the day he took over. He wasn't shooting people then, just telling them to go out and die in the woods or he'd off the whole family. The few things I remember from her, I keep in mind. Mom's parents barely talk to her. Do I look like them, or Dad's side? I don't know. Having too much family would be a relief." The idiocy of the statement made him want to bang his head on the community center wall. "Forget I said that."

"Last year, it would have been true. Now, I know my good fortune, even if at one time it would have seemed an insane statement." They reached the door of the community center. "Speaking of family, some seem more elevated than others."

"Careful!" a tall, fragile Vulcan man squeaked as they neared the base of the ladder he held in a death grip. He was, indeed, a younger and longer vision of Prime. On the top rung, balancing without a handhold, a determined woman was taking swings at a piece of aluminum Golic calligraphy- "Let us embrace our differences boldly"-with a chisel and short-handled sledge. "Hit it again on the right side ten point three centimeters straight down from where you just did."

She half-turned and looked down, tools in hand. "Are you sure you want the accent there?"

"Yes. It's Modern Golic, not Ancient. Oh, be careful. Won't you let me up there?"

"Modern? It's a variation on Surak. Hmph." The woman brandished the hammer. "Who's the silversmith here, may I ask?"

"It's aluminum, not silver, it's bigger than you usually handle and it's five meters up." No doubt Skon would have been mildly and invisibly offended had anyone suggested he was visibly worrying.

Spock folded his hands behind his back and looked up at the work. "The sign is attractive, sa'mekh'li. It is new?"

Skon gingerly turned his head toward them. "Indeed. I would offer you a greeting, grandson, but I need both hands at the moment. The former sign was well-intentioned, but not written by a native speaker. Good afternoon, Captain Kirk. Oh. My."

"Dif-tor heh smushna, osu Skon." He set his face blank and rendered the ta'al.

Skon nearly smiled in delight. "Peace and long life indeed! Rana, did you see this?"

"Well. That's certainly different." Sarek's majestic mother let go of the ladder again, turning back to eye up the calligraphy. It wasn't hard to see where Spock's father had gotten his build or the outward veneer of his demeanor. Even the mannerisms were similar. "Am I done up here?"

"I believe so, and do not jump down!"

She had been thinking about it. Kirk knew many Vulcans wouldn't bother climbing down a single story, but Rana was a bit further up than that and her husband was already all but gnawing off his fingernails as it was. She muttered under her breath and swung herself down until she was within his reach, where he caught her in his arms and set her gently on the ground as if he were reluctant to let go. "Now stop fussing, Skon.-I must say, Kirk, that is remarkable. Your assistance is generous and most desirable since my bondmate and I are not permitted to go on this mission."

"Father said there were health consider-" Spock stopped in mid-word. "Oh."

T'Rana looked even more smug. Skon hunched a bit and turned deep green. "The cause was, er, unanticipated but welcome."

After the Loss and the need to rebuild the species, even those at midlife, like Skon and Rana, were often carrying children for others. He gathered the current occupant of Rana's baby bump was homemade. "Arre," Rana said. "She has already approved of the name. I should have named her Trellium-D."

The neurotoxin with which a Romulan saboteur had poisoned the Vulcan Embassy staff a few months before was known to cause permanent loss of emotional control. From the look of Sarek's parents, neither minded. Rana stuck the hammer in her belt loop and resumed looking fearless and imperious, except she reached for Skon's hand and held it at her side. "This was also unanticipated," Skon said. "And is also welcome. Spock, is your father with you?"

"He is with Solkar, doing a...ride-along? They will be here at the end of Solkar's shift."

"Ah. He is gaining practical experience in tending injured and ill humans by accompanying an experienced healer on his rounds. Quite logical, since he spends as much time on Earth as Father and we do." Skon folded the ladder and stepped back. Kirk looked down at the plain sign that had been removed and understood the problem. Most Vulcans would not appreciate "We should combine our different body parts with great enthusiasm." Skon turned to his wife, not-smiling sweetly. "Your father was amused by the old one."

"Mestral would be," Rana muttered. "You certainly are." She picked up the sign. "Shall we?" Did she actually smirk at him? "Ahem. Go into the building and greet the rest of them?"

With both physical meetings and Vulcan family being the rarity that they were, even followers of Surak were exchanging news of marriages and images of babies on the way. The Jarok followers and k'turr didn't pretend not to be happy in one another's presence, so in spite of what promised to be a grueling mission the room bubbled with restrained joy. At one time, Kirk couldn't have felt it. On New Vulcan, those around him had lost most of their control from the poisoning, while he had gained the ability to read them. Some of what Spock called damage was permanent. Kirk didn't mind, especially when Sarek made his way around the gathering.

"My sons." Anyone looking on wouldn't have known how tempted Sarek was to throw his arms around both of them. He thought the sentiment back. "Nyota is well?"

"Very well, and wished you to know she regrets not being able to be here today. We visited her family for a week, attended the hearing, then she went back to work installing and testing the new communications system we developed for use on the mission. We tested it enroute and it appears to work, but she wants further verification before it is used in a critical situation."

"There is very little you cannot do together." And I am so proud. "I received my results, which were what I expected. I understand yours were less so?"

"Indeed. Possible with a human, but Vulcan children of mine will require assistance."

"Mine were equally unequivocal. It is not possible for me to father a child naturally, given a mate of either species. I had not appreciated what a wonder you and Ruven actually are." And he said that out loud! "But that news gives us leave for the mission."

"Hey, you three." If Nick Mestral had ever been subtle as a Vulcan, sixty-five years of exposure to Carbon Creek coal miners had finished it. In theory over two hundred years old, he had spent so much time in stasis or time travel that he was barely Sarek's age and younger than his own daughter Rana. He surrounded Kirk with invisible affection. "You're staying with us tonight, right, Jim?"
"It makes sense," Kirk agreed. "Early start in the morning and we'll be here late."

"We don't sleep much but even for us this is ridiculous, trying to train, go and get back before the Federation Council can argue. I told the old goat he should book today off, but he's still making up days he missed on New Vulcan."

The old goat in question, Sarek's other grandfather Solkar, appeared and loomed over Nick's shoulder. Tall and broad-shouldered even for a Vulcan, he looked like walking murder in his black paramedic scrubs. Kirk knew better. He had been an excellent ambassador and was now an equally excellent healer. "Slow day. From here on it won't be. I regret to see you two can go along."

"Father and Silek were rejected for fertility," Sarek said. "Spock and I may go."

"I get to go. Nick goes because who'd want more of his genes anyway? Unless you need them, Jim," John amended. "I suppose he does have his uses."

"The ones he just gave me seem to work. I stuck my face in a flower and didn't explode. Bones ran all the challenge tests to make sure it was safe."

Bones had planted himself at Kirk's other shoulder, doubtless to defend him from the horde of hobgoblins. "No offense to Starfleet, but I don't know why they let you off planet with allergies that bad. Between Khan ahem-" most of the Vulcans knew, but there was no sense saying it aloud- "and Nick's stem cells, you ought to be too mean for anything out there to even think about killing you."

John tilted his head to squint at him. "Yes, you do look acceptably green now."

"First time anybody said that to me," Kirk grinned. "It usually scares people."

Nick eyed him up in the afternoon light. "When a human is that shade I'm careful about staying out of hurling range. Dr. McCoy, nice job on the ears. I'll remember that if I ever need mine bobbed."

Bones cringed. "Ow! That even sounds painful."

"Nah, they grow back. Think about it. We fought all the time and ear tips got bitten or ripped off. Takes them a few months to look right again if you don't boost them. Maggie and I talked about that in case we got pointy kids, but the three who lived back when came out round."

"Oh, it's recessive?"

"Give the kid a gold star! One gene, partial recessive. My job lately has been to find which of thousands of volunteers can carry Vulcan babies. Three Betazoid genes have to be there: cyanide resistance, tolerance to cuproglobin and not-hemochromatosis. We expect them on Vulcan, but they turned up all over Earth. Betazed had warp drive five hundred years before us with a lot of crashed ships and no problem blending in at all. Then we started finding our genes scattered around. Maasai, Cheyenne, Shawnee ... there's a reason Shanai City sounds similar and the district capital was Chal'ga'tha. We even know which ship crashed where and which clans married into the natives. As for Serbia, half of Carbon Creek was Serbian back then and they figured I was some kind of relative. My father-in-law and I used to talk to each other without using English. It's been a revelation. Many of the elders aren't pleased."

"That is not logical," Spock said. "What is, is."

"Since when has their brand of logic been logical? I'll call it a belief system, but not logic. That's why I bailed out on getting rescued way back when, best thing I ever did. Glad my kid finally got her head around that idea." Nick nudged the padd with his knuckles as Rana came up.

Sarek's mother looked at the padd for a second, puzzled, shook her head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow, so Spocklike that Kirk hid a smile. "We're ready to start, sa'mekh. I should say we're as ready as we're likely to be."