...

Nyota cocked her phaser to its ready state and braced herself just inside the arched doorway. A lengthy silence stretched from several seconds to a few minutes; only nervous inhalations were audible.

Silver flashed across the bit of sky that was visible through the cave opening, and everyone flinched. The aircraft moved back into view, moving more slowly this time. The side of the craft, which Nyota now recognized as a low-altitude surveillance ship, was emblazoned with the Vulcan IDIC symbol. The aircraft crossed the river, reflected in its gleaming waters, made a few more passes over the valley, and flew out of sight. Behind her, Nyota heard exhalations of apparent relief.

A second percussive alarm sounded, followed by an amplified voice declaring, "All clear. Citizens, return to your business."

Nyota, still apprehensive, changed her phaser to a standby setting that kept it ready for quick use but impossible to fire accidentally. The recorded message repeated itself, and the Vulcan women leaned forward, staring while she handled the weapon.

"You really do know how to use that weapon, don't you?" T'ober asked, distaste evident on her face.

Avoiding the temptation to point out that the answer was both obvious and logical, Nyota replied, "Starfleet wouldn't have permitted me to graduate if I didn't." She'd also learned how to handle a rifle while visiting her cousins' farm in New Kenya, but these society ladies seemed shocked enough by Starfleet training; if she mentioned the rifle they'd probably petition to have her expelled from the planet.

"Do you know how to fight with your hands?" inquired another.

"Yes. Martial arts training, as well as hand-to-hand combat and disarming exercises were mandatory at Starfleet Academy."

"Do you know how to kill?"

Any answer Nyota gave would be the wrong one. "I have...no comment on the matter."

T'ober was unwilling to let the subject go. "Fighting and killing are hardly the sort of things that a lady bonded to a diplomatic representative would be expected to know."

"Then it is fortunate that my bondmate does not offically represent you in a diplomatic capacity, isn't it?" Nyota's voice was sharp, but she casually lifted one shoulder in the hint of a shrug. "I did not know how to fight at all before Starfleet. I was raised to be a lady, within a peaceful household headed by parents who valued education, empathy, and hospitality to both friends and strangers." Her gaze swept the circle of curious faces. Suddenly she no longer cared what anyone thought. "I would have attempted to defend all of us, despite the dislike some of you obviously have for me. It would be unethical if I did not at least try to help all of us. "

Nyota holstered her phaser at her hip and adjusted her clothing in the sudden quiet. "All clear, ladies," she said, and walked out into the afternoon sunlight.

...

Excitement among Vulcans was a rare and fascinating sight. Some of the Vulcan men paced back and forth, speaking urgently into communicators or with each other. The camels were resisting the efforts of their handler and his assistant to round them up. Everyone paused to look up at the sky as another patrol craft flew overhead.

Spock hurried over to Nyota and clasped her shoulders in full view of the others, opening their mental bond to ask: Are you well?

She touched the side of his face. Yes, though I did consider the possibility of a cave-in. She let him know that she'd unholstered her phaser; his eyes swept down to her utility belt, then back up to her face as she revealed what the women had said to her. Annoyance, and some hint of his personal hurt. Then he controlled his response, saying, wemustrejointhegroup, and closed the bond.

Involved with each other, neither Spock nor Nyota overheard Sarek speaking to T'ober.

"Rather than lodging a complaint with me regarding Miss Uhura carrying a phaser, it might be worthwhile to thank her for being generous enough to attempt to defend people who were impolite to her today. I saw you refuse Nyota's attempt to greet you. Despite this, she was willing to protect you. May I recommend that you devote some time in meditation to processing this lapse in logic?"

"Sarek, I do not think that you understand my reasoning."

"I do not believe that her phaser is the problem here. I observe much, T'sai. Human and other visitors are to be made welcome on New Vulcan; we are still part of the Federation. Please avoid repeating such behavior." T'ober glared at him and walked stiffly away to join her husband.

Worried, Sarek sought Nyota's attention; he found her several feet away from the group with his son, apparently communicating telepathically through discreet touches.

His son stood apart, again. Spock had real friends on the Enterprise, Sarek knew, and among Amanda's and Nyota's families. Many among the diplomatic corps admired both father and son, but Sarek wondered if any residents of New Vulcan, other than T'Pau of course, loved Spock enough to be called a friend.

Sarek approached the couple, speaking quietly and urgently. "Nyota, are you well?" She assured him that she was.

"An unidentified ship was observed leaving New Vulcan, without proper navigational clearance," Sarek explained. "Our group will return at once to the capital. Two land shuttles have been summoned to take us back."

...

The city was in an uproar; in addition to the mysterious ship leaving Vulcan airspace, planetary security was overextended with efforts to welcome and protect an ambassador from the planet Coridia and his large staff. Coridia, a large planet gifted with a vast supply of dilithium crystals, was applying for Federation status. The crystals would offered to Federation members in trade for assistance with planetary defense. The Coridians had requested a meeting with Vulcans, Terrans, Tellarites, and other Federation members in order to gather support for their admission. The selection of New Vulcan as a conference location was widely interpreted as an effort to gain allies who might better understand what it was like to have one's planet under threat.

Spock and Sarek left to join a security debriefing at the Parliamentary Building almost immediately upon their return to the city, and Nyota was escorted back to Sarek's diplomatic manor by the shuttle driver.

T'keila, the young Vulcan woman who worked for the Vulcan priestess, philosopher, and judge T'Pau, stood waiting for Nyota in the foyer of Sarek's home. Gossip moved at lightspeed on New Vulcan.

Cautiously, Nyota greeted the young Vulcan woman, following it with, "I suppose T'sai T'Pau has already heard about my phaser and my plain speaking, and wants to give me her perspective on it."

"Sanoi, T'sai Uhura, believe me, I find it disagreeable to lead you into conflict," T'keila replied earnestly, speaking in Standard. "You are correct. T'sai T'Pau requests your presence immediately in her quarters. Please follow me."

Appreciative of the woman's honesty, Nyota gave T'keila a small smile and they walked side by side across the road and into T'Pau's house. "I know that you are only trying to perform your duties properly and efficiently. I'm not upset with you personally. You're very professional; you'd probably get hired immediately for a similar job in San Francisco or New Nairobi."

The young woman blinked at Nyota.

"Never mind, honey. I'm not saying that you should leave New Vulcan; I'm sure that opportunities abound here. I'm just paying you a compliment. You were so nice and welcoming when I arrived last night, and your Standard is excellent. You're obviously talented and I hope that you find what you want in your new life here, whatever it may be."

"I believe that I understand now. Thank you, Osasu Uhura."

"What are your interests? Is it acceptable if I ask you about yourself?"

"It is not only acceptable, but agreeable."

Their conversation distracted both pleasantly until they stood, all too soon, in front of the double doors leading to T'Pau's private receiving room. T'keila opened the doors, let Nyota inside, and closed them behind her, whispering "Best wishes," leaving Nyota alone with T'Pau, surely one of the most formidable women in the galaxy.

Among the relatively few Vulcan elders to escape Vulcan's destruction, T'Pau was a ferociously intelligent, self-directed woman, one of the only beings to have turned down the offer of a seat on the Federation Council. Her reputation for applying rigid logic to all situations preceded her. T'Pau maintained an oddly fond relationship with Sarek, offering him counsel in diplomatic affairs and occasionally inquiring about Spock's whereabouts and activities.

Upon their arrival the night before, Nyota had greeted the T'Pau with the greatest respect and deference, speaking formal High Vulcan and saying little afterward. T'Pau had been stiffly polite in return, and the encounter had been mercifully short.

Blood rushed in her ears as Nyota raised one hand in greeting and spoke, her heart pounding.

"Moi kima (good afternoon), la-T'sai (honorable Lady) T'Pau."

"Moi kima, T'sai Uhura. You are an intelligent being, though a recklessly illogical one. I am sure that you already know why I have summoned you here."

"Yes. May I request your permission to tell you my personal version of the story? I promise to give you an accurate and truthful account, and request that you draw your own conclusions."

T'Pau's face was immobile; although her eyes barely moved, the matriarch seemed to be looking Nyota up and down and staring at the phaser on her belt. Nyota had considered the utility belt and with its phaser holster to be discreet. Now it seemed to make her entire self conspicuous, as though she were marching down a street carrying a sign mocking Surak's nonviolent teachings.

After taking a deep breath, she gave her account of the incident; she did not censor what she had said or try to make it sound more polite.

"I regret speaking harshly; I didn't intend to be rude to those ladies, and I would have attempted to defend or assist all of us if we had been attacked or injured, without regard to my personal feelings about how they treated me. I do not want to see the people of New Vulcan suffer, but I dislike being forced into conflict with people I have barely met."

"The lady spoke honestly; carrying weapons is not...was not customary for Vulcan women among certain upper classes."

Nyota attempted to keep the frown away from her face. According to the Vulcan history she'd read, T'Pau herself had been involved in tense, almost devious military planning and diplomatic efforts years before; perhaps the difference was that she'd allowed others to do the actual fighting.

"I only wore my phaser with my civilian clothes today because I toured a rural, undeveloped location with Sarek and Spock this morning. I thought that we might encounter hostile creatures, falling rocks, and number of hazards. If you prefer, la-T'sai T'Pau, I will not carry it again during my visit."

"Weaponry may not be improper for an off-worlder or non-Vulcan. I will meditate upon it and make my decision. You may leave now."

Frustrated, Nyota wished that she could sit down for a casual conversation with T'Pau. Why did the woman resist her attempts to get to know her?

"May I invite you to join me for tea and perhaps conversation later? There is much I would like to know of New Vulcan and I would appreciate the opportunity to speak with someone as wise and profoundly knowledgeable as yourself."

T'Pau sat very still, not blinking. "I may consider it. Formulate a list of questions that you wish to ask me. I devote much of my personal time to mediation and preservation of Vulcan culture. I will have little time to spare for unstructured discussions. Consult my dvinsu, T'keila to arrange a time."

If the woman had simply slapped her, Nyota thought, it might have hurt a little bit less. "I understand. I will leave you now. "

"You will not; I have not excused you. I have an additional question for you."

"Yes, la-T'sai?"

"A member of housekeeping staff informed me that you have brought a red dress in your baggage."

A headache began to form in Nyota's right temple. "That is true. I was informed that I would attend receptions, parties, and other events during the visit. I brought formal gowns to wear."

"Is this garment modest?"

"It has a floor-length skirt and shoulder straps. You cannot see very much of my chest, as the bodice is high."

"Yet it is red."

"Yes. Starfleet red, like the uniform I customarily wear."

"You will draw attention to yourself."

"That was not my intention, T'sai T'Pau. I have worn the dress on previous occasions and it has never drawn any negative reactions. It is comfortable and suitable for warm climates." The dress was also one of Spock's favorites, though this was hardly the time to mention it; cut high in the front and dipping low in the back, it made Nyota feel confident and attractive.

"It is my opinion that you would do well to wear something else."

Feeling angry now, Nyota took a deep breath and looked at the floor. T'Pau would not accept her offer of sitting together as equals over tea; she preferred to lecture her as though she were a teenager attending her first party.

"I will take your advice into consideration. Thank you, la-T'sai," she said, and backed out of the room.

How could she possibly manage for two weeks on this planet?

Maybe her dress, which would have not seemed unusual on Earth was indeed inappropriate. Nyota thought of T'voria, the friendly Vulcan woman. Perhaps she might be willing to provide clothing advice where T'Pau would not. Nyota returned to her quarters, planning to enlist T'keila's assistance in contacting the woman who might become one of her few friends on this beautiful, troubling planet.

...

Fighting with Spock was awful. Not simply because she loved him, but because fights with Spock differed from arguments. Arguments could involve logic, data, and information seeking to support a particular line of reasoning. Spock's dry sense of humor often shone through during arguments and made her laugh. Fights followed uncertain, unsettling paths. Logic was cast aside in favor of resentment, old hurts, and stubbornness. Spock did not always say sensible things when they fought; she could sense his old feelings of rejection, loneliness, and insecurity rising to the surface, and he would sometimes say hurtful things as he tried to protect himself from being rejected or shut out as he had during his childhood.

The amount of energy and time it took to reassure him that he was cherished and accepted exhausted her sometimes. To make things worse, as a scientist and a man who was still relatively young, Spock sometimes refused to admit that he could make mistakes.

"Maybe as a human I am naive, but I expected that IDIC would be more...part of personal interactions here. Infinite diversity in infinite combination...you and Sarek believe in it, your behavior shows it. I wanted to get to know some other women here, find out what we have in common and how our lives are different. I'm not saying that sharing a gender equals instant friends, but except for T'voria, those women made their dislike of me very clear. I'd like to know what sort of bad reputation preceded me."

"My reputation, not yours. My half-human reputation."

"Ashalik Spock, I know how difficult social acceptance was for you during your childhood...but why should they reject you now? With so much to be gained from accepting others and working together? Honestly, I find it baffling. The atmosphere during today's outing made me uncomfortable. Honestly, I wished that you and Sarek would speak up, defend me."

"Nyota! You know that I could not speak to a lady of the Vulcan diplomatic classes so directly."

"Yeah? It might teach those narrow-minded snobs some good. I tried not to react to them, but one word from you, just one, and they might have stopped. Did you look at the holo with the calendar of our social engagements during our visit here? We're probably going to see those women again, Spock, at tomorrow night's reception, concerts, poetry readings, building tours. Are you going to speak up then?"

He frowned. "I have already said that I prefer not to violate Vulcan social customs. If you are to function effectively as my bondmate, it is necessary that you reacquaint yourself with the local manners and patterns of behavior, which I know that you have already studied in detail. Do you wish me to come to your rescue like a prince in some ancient folktale?"

Nyota stared at him. "If? If I am to function effectively as your bondmate?" She felt a pain in her chest, and she unconsciously pressed a hand to her heart in a protective gesture.

"Maybe you forget, Mister, but I can rescue myself. I prepared to defend myself and the others quite well when that siren went off, and none of us knew what dangers lay outside that cave," she said shakily. "When I said you didn't defend me, all I meant was that I need to know you care. Maybe that means breaking the social code sometimes. I guess diplomacy matters more than this misguided woman who thinks that you really want her for your bondmate."

Spock turned to face her, his eyes wide, and facial expression softening as he realized how she interpreted his words. "Nyota, I ask your pardon. I did not realize - I thought that you would understand why I remained silent about the way they insulted both of us. It was my expectation that we would face such difficulties together, one giving strength to the other. Do not misinterpret my behavior as a lack of regard for you."

"Regard?" her voice was icy with sarcasm.

Why did human women desire such frequent repetitions of those three short words? "Your constant need for romantic reassurance can be somewhat trying. Diplomatic protocol must take precedence during our public appearances here on New Vulcan -"

Spock ducked as the pillow came flying toward his head, managing to catch it by one corner. He didn't fear the soft missile, but the wave of anger flowing from her across their mental bond put him on edge.

"Sleep on the balcony, Spock. Or find a spare bedroom someplace in this big, lonely mansion, because you sure aren't sleeping with me tonight."

Too late, he realized that his own behavior and words had been illogical within the context of their relationship. "Sanoi, ashayam, listen to me, I apologize -"

Her long fingers pressed flat against his chest, and he was too surprised to resist as she pushed him through the door and secured the latch.

Astounded, Spock stood in the corridor that connected their quarters to the rest of the house, attempting to order his whirling thoughts and emotions. There was a second entryway to their quarters. It would have been easy for him to climb the safety ladder up to their private roof garden and enter their bedroom. However, if he did, it would not be with Nyota's consent. He wanted to avoid the appearance of aggression or of any further disregard for her feelings. He knocked on the door, but there was no response. He pressed one ear against the composite surface, but the soundproofing revealed nothing. He tried their mental bond, but only received the impression of tears and a sense of abandonment before she firmly closed herself off from him.

...this misguided woman who thinks that you really want her for your bondmate.

Scientists did not always properly interpret data, even when clearly presented. Spock groaned as he finally understood.

No. He wanted no other bondmate or lover. Apparently she believed that his passive behavior hid a wish to be separated from her and to nullify their bond; perhaps she even believed that he toyed with her and did not take her feelings seriously. It was confusing, and Spock disliked confusion.

It was essential that this conflict be resolved. Spock pressed his palm against the communication panel next to the door, and spoke when it recognized his imprint. "Nyota, please. We must discuss this and reach a conclusion." Mindful of the staff, he lowered his voice and switched to the casual, flirtatious French they'd spoken with each other earlier in the day, hoping to appeal to her with references to romantic archetypes. "Please, mon coeur, open the door, I beg you."

Silence.

He tried again, in Vulcan and Standard, no to no avail. What had he done? Perhaps he could walk the corridors and clear his thoughts, calm his rising anxiety. Walking meditation worked for full humans; he would attempt to make it work for him.

...

Sarek had retired to his own quarters and was meditating, which was regrettable; his wisdom and experience with human women might prove valuable. Spock thought of interrupting him, and hesitated, as he often caught himself doing before speaking of personal matters with his father. The two of them had successfully begun to rebuild their relationship, but awkwardness still prevailed at times. Would Sarek scold him for inadvertently creating a scene within his household? Gossip about discord under Sarek's roof would make the rest of their visit difficult, if not outright miserable.

After opening a few doors Spock found a small, private office equipped with communications equipment, soundproofing, and a small bathroom. Good enough a place to spend the night as any, he decided. A firepot would have aided him in calming mediation, but his own was locked away with Nyota and her injured feelings.

Placing the pillow beneath his head, Spock stretched out on the office floor. Newly familiar stars gleamed through the open window.

The floor was not comfortable; the cool of the evening seeped up from the tiles and through the carpet. Like all Vulcans, he knew that he could focus his thoughts and raise his body temperature. The process would make him warm enough to sleep through the night.

Spock knew what he really wanted. He wanted Nyota nestled close to him, his arm loosely over her waist. He would have been equally pleased to have her stretched out beside him, their limbs moving and touching and tangling through the night. He wanted her curled up in the position she called "spoons" or resting her head on his chest or shoulder or at least in the same room with him so that he could hear her breathing and know that she was well.

Restless, he turned on his side and glanced at the communications equipment.

Jim Kirk had sexual and romantic experience with many human - and non-human - beings, and had experienced romantic conflict with several, if not all, of them. Perhaps it was illogical to ask Jim for advice; although obviously skilled in flirtation and courtship, Jim appeared to have difficulty maintaining consistent relationships with sexual partners due to his lack of emotional engagement. On more than one occasion Spock had overheard Jim apologize to a newly abandoned sexual partner. The apologies were artfully worded, occasionally verging on poetry. However, based upon Spock's observations, the apologies often functioned as escape routes for Jim Kirk, and did not sufficiently resolve conflict.

Dr. McCoy might be a better source of advice. Although highly emotional, the man's intelligence went beyond academics to an understanding of human behavior gained through life experience and medical practice. Starfleet medical training also required intensive psychological study and training. McCoy was kind to Nyota and other women on the Enterprise; indeed, Nyota had said that she considered him a true friend. In addition, personal experience with divorce might have taught McCoy much about effective conflict resolution between bondmates. Yes, he would attempt to contact the Doctor and request advice as to how to proceed.

...

"Say what now?"

Leonard McCoy wondered if his insomniac nights were causing him to hallucinate. He pushed the half-full shot glass of whiskey away and discreetly pinched himself beneath the desk where his communications screen sat.

It hurt. Commander Spock really was staring at him from the screen, awaiting an answer to his request for romantic advice.

"Shall I rephrase my request for the sake of clarity, Doctor?" Spock looked uncomfortable. "I spoke hastily to Lieutenant Uhura this evening, saying that adhering to customs of diplomacy and manners held more importance than providing her with emotional reassurance. Certain implications and insulting remarks were made by women she had hoped to befriend. I expected her to ignore those remarks, and I did not defend her. To the contrary, I later told her that I expected her to ignore the remarks as a show of strength and willingness to follow local custom. Upon analysis, I now believe that my response to her was incorrect."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "You don't know the half of it, Spock."

"Indeed, I did not know at the time. The Lieutenant expressed her disagreement and as a result, I am spending the night on the floor of an office in Sarek's diplomatic manor...Doctor, your reaction puzzles me; I believe that laughter is considered an unkind response to situations such as my current one."

"Pardon me, Spock, I'm not laughing at you. It's just that...if there were such a thing as a universal situation, you're right smack dab in the middle of it."

"Leonard, I do not understand."

"Oh, you will, bless your heart. Every man who loves women has to experience this at one time or another. Listen up now, Spock. Here's what you might could do to make her like you again..."