Nyota stepped outside of her dormitory well before sunrise the next morning. She found sleep to be elusive after the events of the previous evening. Commander Spock’s confession and marriage proposal had shaken her to her core. That the man that she thought she despised felt such strong romantic feelings for her was more than a bit disorientating. To learn that he was also the cause of her best friend’s heartache was enraging. After tossing in her bed for hours on end, Nyota decided that she needed to do something to work off her anger. Since she could not punch her superior officer without being expelled, she decided that running would have to do.

She had not run for more than twenty minutes before she noticed Commander Spock standing stiffly 50 feet in front of her on the nearly deserted harbor side path, his posture erect and his hands held stiffly behind his back.  He wore the same formal Vulcan attire as the evening before. Nyota took some perverse comfort in the fact that he has also been unable to sleep. Just when she decided to turn around and avoid what was bound to be an unpleasant interaction for the both of them, Spock turned and gently called her name.  Nyota sighed in resignation before coming to attention and waiting for him to approach. As he neared, she noticed the rumpled state of his clothing, the heightened yellow tinge of his skin and the weariness about his eyes. Nyota felt an unexpected pang of regret that she had, however deservedly, been the cause for Spock’s unusual unkempt state.

“Cadet Uhura,” Spock began, her given name with more tenderness than she would have expected given their last conversation.

“Do not be afraid that I intend to repeat to you those sentiments which you found so repugnant last evening. You laid two accusations at my feet which I now request the liberty of addressing.”

“Commander, I am not comfortable…I would rather…,” Nyota stammered, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“I assure you, Nyota, that I also find discussing such personal and intimate matters to be uncomfortable. However, given our previous discussion, the redressing of these accusations cannot be avoided.

“Furthermore, I believe that your opinion on the matter of my relationship with my brother is based solely on his testimony. As you are an intelligent and rational being, I submit that you owe it to yourself to hear both sides of the matter before you come to a definite conclusion. I also believe that I should have the right to speak in my own defense.”

Nyota nodded before gesturing towards a bench set back from the path and surrounded by a few trees. Spock followed her to the bench, settling down at the far side of the bench, his posture erect. They sat in silence for a few moments, Uhura watching the early morning sky as the first bands of blue orange began to stain the horizon.

“Last night, I confessed to playing a part in separating Lieutenant-Commander Shuran from your friend, Cadet Gaila. I do not apologize for my actions as they were not done capriciously or with the purpose, intended or otherwise, of harming your friend.”

Nyota bit her lip to prevent herself from speaking. She would hear him out like the rational intelligent being he proclaimed her to be.

“It was not long after the ball that I noticed that Shuran was inordinately attached to your friend and in danger of finding himself very much in love. Shuran is an affectionate being who is capable of making friends with ease and forming romantic attachments that are as passionate as they are short lived. However, after a few weeks of observation I deduced that this romantic attachment was different and that Shuran was in danger of committing himself to Cadet Gaila as her life mate.”

Nyota was unable to prevent her huff of outrage at this bit of news.

“While it was plain to me that the cadet returned some of his affections, it was also apparent that she was incapable of making the commitment to become Shuran’s bondmate. Given her past history of brief romantic entanglements and the rarity of monogamous life-long relationships among Orions, I counseled Shuran that it would be wise for him to reconsider his pursuit of Cadet Gaila.

“Once I presented him with my own observations and the illogic of his choice of bride, he reluctantly agreed with my assessment and removed himself from the planet in order to distance himself from the cadet.

“However, I now realize that I may have been in error as I was not in possession of sufficient data to make this determination. I regret advising Shuran to take actions that caused your friend pain.”

Nyota sat for a moment and considered Spock’s explanation. While it was true that Orions as a people avoided committed monogamous relationships like the plague, Gaila had been prepared to be the exception to this rule. She loved Shuran and had not taken any lovers since making his acquaintance. However, Commander Spock would not have have known this. It was only reasonable for anyone to conclude that an Orion would make a poor wife. Still, Spock should have let Shuran and Gaila see their relationship to its natural conclusion.

“You also accused me of playing a role in Sybok’s banishment from Vulcan and his expulsion from the S’chn T’gai clan,” Spock continued. “The relationship between my brother, myself and our family is…complex. I have never shared the details of our relationship with anyone. However, I feel that you are owed an honest and complete account of our dealings due, in part, to our conversation but also due to my brother’s…acquaintence…with you. I trust that what I now relate to you will not be shared with anyone else.”

Spock turned and looked her in the eye for the first time since he began his explanation. Nyota was struck by the pleading expression in his dark eyes.

“You have my word that I will keep your confidence,” Nyota replied after a time.

Spock’s shoulders relaxed minutely, his gaze sliding from hers towards the lightening horizon.

“Thank you, Nyota,” he whispered.

Uhura swallowed and dipped her head, anticipating the gravity of whatever Spock meant to relate. She had never seen Spock look so vulnerable and human. She began to question Sybok’s story once again and regret some of her words from the previous evening.

Spock sighed and bent his head to the side. “I find that what I have to share is too emotionally taxing to commit to words. I propose that we engage in a light mind meld so that I can properly convey that which I find myself incapable of speaking and so that you can be assured of the veracity of my account. You may also apply to my cousin Selkek with any questions that you might have. I will instruct him to speak candidly with you.”

Nyota looked away from the commander. She knew the mind meld to be a very intimate act among Vulcans. That Spock would wish to engage her in this way despite her pointed refusal of his proposal softened her towards him. She thought back on the times when Sybok had touched her mind. He had done so whenever they had touched, apologizing when he sensed it was unwanted, but never seeking permission beforehand. Spock, on the other hand, had never intruded upon her thoughts when they chanced to touch. Neither had Selkek. That Spock had thought to ask and to offer Selkek to verify his account reassured her.

“Okay,” Nyota replied. “What must I do?”

“You are not required to do anything except allow my mind to touch yours.”

Spock lifted his right hand to the side of her face, placing his fingers delicately on her temple and cheek. His fingers were warm and smooth to the touch.  Nyota found herself lost in the dark depths of eyes that she once thought to be black, but were really a deep brown.

“My mind to your mind,” Spock spoke, his voice as calm as the bay, “My thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds one and the same.”

Nyota inhaled sharply, her mind momentarily flooded with a barrage of sensation. She felt, saw and tasted the bitter blue of his sorrow, a sensation so deep she felt as if she were endanger of suffocating. Her skin tingled and burned at the spicy heat of his anger. She trembled as the heat was swept away by the cool sweet breeze of his affection, the gentle pink deepening to a blood red, her mouth flooded with the tannic and richness of a full bodied Merlot. Nyota whimpered.

“Peace,” Spock thought to her. “The experience can be somewhat overwhelming at first. You shall soon become accustomed to the feel of my mind.”

“I’m scared,” she replied with a gasp. “Please.”

Suddenly, she saw a figure clothed in white walking towards her in the swirling sea of red that filled her vision. As the figure neared, she recognized him as the commander.

“Take my hand.”

Nyota obeyed, grasping his warm hand in hers. The red receded and she found herself standing with Spock in a large courtyard filled with Terran plants. She looked around her, maintaining her grip on Spock’s hand. Despite the familiar flora, she knew they were not on Earth. She looked beyond the high stone walls of the garden and observed the cloudless red sky.

“We’re on Vulcan,” she whispered in wonder.

“We are still on Earth, Nyota, sitting on a bench by the harbor in San Francisco. What we are experiencing now is my memory of my childhood home outside Shi’Kahr.”

Nyota looked at him in astonishment, her mind full of questions. Before she could open her mouth, the sound of feminine laughter drew her attention elsewhere. She turned to observe a small Vulcan child running full tilt towards them, his cherubic face split in a carefree smile. Close behind him was a petite human woman with brown eyes and dark brown hair escaping from her veil. She caught the small boy and lifted him up in her arms, laughing as she spun him in a circle. The boy laughed as well, his ears blushing green as the woman brought him to her chest and placed kisses atop his head.

“Is that…”

“Yes, that is my mother, Amanda Grayson, and myself at the age of three.”

Nyota smiled to herself, the intimate familial scene warming her heart. She marveled at the sight of a young Spock freely expressing his happiness.

An older Vulcan man robed in grey walked sedately behind the pair, his face severe but his eyes soft.

“Amanda, you should not encourage the child,” he scolded.

“Oh, Sarek. Soon enough my Spock-kam will be a dour and serious Vulcan like his father. Allow me to enjoy his smiles and kisses while I can,” Amanda replied as she set down the squirming child.

The boy ran to his father as soon as his small feet hit the ground, wrapping his arms around one of his father’s legs as he smiled up at him impishly. Sarek bent down and picked up the child, stroking the boy’s face with his free hand.

Amanda walked towards the pair, two fingers of her right hand extended towards them. Sarek touched the fingers of his free hand to hers in a show of affection.

“Sybok,” the little boy squealed in delight, beginning to squirm to be set down once again. Sarek complied, releasing the boy to allow him to run towards his brother.

“Spock-kam, p’sai’kai,” Sybok replied sedately as he walked towards the young boy. He stopped his progress and bowed towards little Spock. The boy skidded to a halt and copied his brother’s greeting while trying to mimic his brother’s comportment.

“As you may have guessed, that is my brother Sybok at twenty years of age,” Spock explained at Uhura’s look of confusion. “He was away studying at the Vulcan Science Academy at the time. Despite the difference in our ages, we were very close. I admired him and looked to him as a mentor. He was a faithful adherent to the teachings of Surak.”

“Have you brought me a present from the city?” the young Spock asked.

“As I always do, p’sai’kai,” Sybok replied, his face impassive but his amber eyes soft. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small box, which the young Spock eagerly opened up.

“It is a miniature kal-toh set,” Sybok explained, “so that you might practice during your summers on Terra.”

Amanda laughed, “Be careful, son. Spock might just beat you the next time you come home.”

Sybok’s amber gaze slid to Amanda. “I look forward to that day, Lady Amanda, if it ever should come.”

A gentle wind blew Uhura’s hair back from her face as the scene before them began to change. Various memories played before them, dimming and melding into one another as voices surrounded them. Nyota turned and looked towards Spock, whose lips remained set in a gentle line. Nyota turned to observe the scenes of brotherly felicity unfolding before her. In each memory, Spock gradually matured and lost the expressiveness of his youth. In contrast, Sybok became less controlled and dour, openly smiling in some scenes. Nyota began to feel the change in the relationship, the shift a palpable growing unease.

The wind died down and Nyota found herself standing in a dimly lit room. Visible in a far corner was the lean figure of Spock seated before a glowing firepot, his features relaxed in meditation.

“Sybok’s apartment outside of Gol,” Spock answered her unspoken query.

Suddenly the front door slid open and a laughing Sybok stumbled into the room, a giggling woman with dark tousled hair slung over his shoulder. Sybok deposited the laughing human woman onto a table before kissing her roughly on the mouth.

“Sybok, I think you’re drunk,” the woman giggled as Sybok focused his attention on undoing her bodice.

“You are correct, “ he replied before kissing her again.

“Brother, what is the meaning of this?” Spock stood from his place in the corner, his teenage frame long and gangly.

Sybok started and pushed himself away from his companion.

“P’sai’kai! What are you doing here?”

“I informed you last week of my visit, Sybok. I arrived this morning, as scheduled, and was unable to contact you. Your landlord allowed me into the apartment once she verified my identity.”

“Of course,” Sybok replied, recovering from his shock. “Tara,” he said turning towards his companion. “We’ll have to reschedule.”

The woman slid down from the table, readjusting her attire with undue slowness as she eyed Spock appreciatively.

“You are not going to introduce me to your friend, Sybok?”

“I said we’ll have to reschedule,” Sybok sneered.

Tara huffed and finished adjusting her clothing. “Rescheduled or not, Gor will still expect payment.”

“He shall have his credits. Now leave me to my guest.”

“Brother, you have taken to consorting with prostitutes?” Spock asked once Tara had left them. “I do not understand.”

“Come brother,” Sybok said as he led his brother to the sofa. “Let us just call it an experiment of sorts to satisfy a curiosity.”

“What of your betrothal to T’Kwyn?”

“T’Kwyn and her family need not know of my activities,” Sybok said as he moved towards the kitchenette to prepare tea. “That is, unless you decide to inform them, little brother.”

“That is not my intention, brother. I am merely concerned by your apparent lapse in logic.”

“You have no cause to worry about me, Spock,” Sybok replied as he returned with the tea things. “You are yet young and still have not left the safety of your mother’s skirts. When you are out in the world, you will see the limits of logic and the folly of living ones life according to its dictates. Logic, like all belief systems, can be contorted to suit any whim.”

Spock took the offered cup from his brother’s hands.

“Sybok, such reasoning seldom leads to a beneficial result.”

“Freedom is always beneficial, p’sai’kai.”

The gentle wind picked up once more and Nyota found herself transported to a tastefully decorated parlor. Sybok stood in the center of the room, now a few years older. His hair was shaggy and his stubble-lined face was twisted into a grimace. Sarek paced in front of his son, his hands folded at his waist. A more mature Spock, now only a few years younger than his present self, stood off to the side watching the proceedings. His mother Amanda, her hair graying at the temples, looked warily between the three Vulcans.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Sarek asked Sybok, his voice calm yet steely. “Why have you dishonored the family in this way?”

“I cannot follow in your footsteps, father,” Sybok replied. “The life of a politician and diplomat is too…restrictive.”

“If your occupation with the Diplomatic Corps was no longer fulfilling, you could have spoken with me and I would have worked to secure you a position at the Academy.”

“And live my life as an academic?” Sybok snorted. “I would find myself to be as unfulfilled teaching alongside those doddering old fools as I was in the Diplomatic Corps.”

“What of your string of debts and the reports that you have sired an illegitimate child with the niece of the Andorian Ambassador? Are these events also related to your career dissatisfaction?”

Sybok sneered.  “Those are scandalous lies, father.”

“The numerous bills from your creditors on Starbase 4, Raal and Shi’Kahr suggest otherwise,” Sarek calmly replied. “Since your debts have been proven to be irrefutable fact, please answer my question regarding your alleged offspring.”

“Why should I answer, sa’mekh, when you have already decided my guilt?”

“You ought to express some remorse and responsibility for your actions, Sybok. You have acted in a way that is unbecoming of a Vulcan and of a member of the T’gai S’chn clan. Your disregard for the teachings of Surak has made my house the object of ridicule and scorn. Have you no regard for the well being of your family?”

Sybok flushed green. Nyota could not determine if it was in anger or in shame.

“T’Kwyn and her family have contacted me with their wish to break your betrothal,” Sarek continued. “As the reports of your infidelity have reached them, they now have grounds to declare divorce without your consent.”

“I am glad to be free of the whore,” Sybok spat. “She was a sanctimonious bore.”

Amanda gasped and turned from Sybok.

“Sybok, although it grieves me to do this, you leave with me with no choice.”

Sarek walked to a low sitting table on which sat a small gong. He sounded the gong once signaling the entrance of two servants carrying a bowl and pitcher who were followed by two armed guards.

“Father?” Spock questioned.

“Silence, sa-fu,” Sarek replied. “As you, Sybok son of T’Rea have brought dishonor upon the T’gai S’chn clan and have shown no remorse for your actions, I hereby banish you from this house and the clan.”

The servants stepped forward, one holding the bowl underneath Sarek’s outstretched hands. The other lifted the earthenware pitcher, pouring water over his hands and into the bowl.

“I wash myself free of you.”

The servants stepped towards Amanda and she repeated the actions of her husband, tears slipping down her cheeks.

They brought the bowl to Spock. He hesitated, looking to his father. Sarek nodded his head, indicating for his son to follow suit.

Spock stepped away from the bowl and towards Sybok.

“Brother, I implore you, please reconsider. It is not too late.”

Sybok smiled mirthlessly. “I no longer wish to live my life confined by the archaic teachings of a long deceased self-proclaimed wiseman, p’sai’kai,” Sybok replied, the appellation of brother spat from his lips. “Nor do I wish to be part of this clan and tied to its decaying traditions. Wash your hands of me.”

“Brother…”

“We are brothers no more. Father has washed his hands of me. As the ever dutiful son, it is only fitting that you do likewise,” Sybok growled

Spock recoiled as if stricken. “As you wish.”

Spock stepped towards the servants and repeated the ritual, his dark eyes fixed upon his brother as the cool water was poured over his hands. The servant holding the pitcher smashed the emptied vessel onto the ground.  The guards stepped towards Sybok, their weapons pointed at him menacingly.

Nyota watched as Sybok was led from the room. Amanda crumpled to the ground, her body wracked by silent sobs. Sarek went to her side, helping her up from the ground and escorting her out.

The gentle wind returned. The vision faded once more, the picture of a young Spock starring silently at the doorway dissolving to a starlit mountainside. Sybok stood standing with his hands raised in front of him, a cocky smile spread over his face despite the phaser pointed at his head. Spock stood not five feet from him, his face contorted in rage, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle of the phaser.

“Step away from my mother,” Spock growled threateningly.

“Why so angry, p’sai’kai? Your precious Amanda is unharmed, merely sleeping off our latest session.”

Nyota gasped at the implication of Sybok’s statement. Her eyes flew to Amanda, who lay still in a fetal position behind Sybok. She felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of Sybok violating his own stepmother.

Spock's grip on her hand tightened. “My mother was not harmed in the manner that you presume, Nyota. However, her mind was greatly injured.”

“Humans are quite an impressionable lot,” Sybok continued, as if a phaser were not pointed at his head.  He turned from Spock and knelt down beside Amanda, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. “It only took a few calls, a few suggestions dropped here and there to have her rushing to my aide. I was content with the monetary payments, you see. But, poor, sweet, stupid Amanda had to see her poor little sa-fu with her own eyes; to beg him to reform. “

“Step away from my mother, Sybok. I shall not repeat myself again,” Spock threatened, his voice a near whisper. Nyota shivered at the malice disguised in his dulcet tones.

“What do you plan to do, little brother? Kill me?” Sybok laughed. “How ever shall you explain the situation to the authorities?”

“He will have a witness,” Sarek calmly stated as he stepped from behind his son. “However, I have no desire to see your blood spilt.”

Sybok’s face fell at the sight of his father before contorting in rage once more.

“You always did care more for your human whore than your own son, Sarek. You are more than willing to be the laughing stock of Vulcan for the sake of this pitiful human, yet you toss aside your own son at the first hint of gossip.”

“Your banishment from the clan was your own doing, Sybok,” Sarek replied as he stepped towards his son. “You are solely to blame for your present condition. Your destiny has always been in your own hands.”

Sybok laughed. “Such a dispassionate response, sa’mekh.  One would not even know that I had kidnapped your a’duna. That I had delved into her soft mind and committed kae'at k'lasa.”

“Permit me to end him, father,” Spock snarled.

“No,” Sarek said as he turned towards Spock. “Lay aside your weapon. I will not lose another son to madness.”

Sybok roared in anger as he flew towards his father, a blade suddenly appearing in his hand. Sarek deftly stepped to the side, avoiding Sybok’s attack. He quickly disarmed his son, twisting his right arm behind his back. Spock stepped forward and hit his brother over the head with the butt of his phaser. Sybok fell unconscious to the ground.

“My son, the nerve pinch would have been sufficient to subdue him,” Sarek replied as he tied Sybok’s hands behind his back.

“Forgive me father. I felt that the situation called for something more.”

The scene dissolved as Spock knelt beside his mother and gathered her limp body against his chest. Nyota’s vision blurred as much from her own tears as from the swirling panorama. The world stilled and she found herself standing in a field covered in dark blue fog. Above them, the sky was black lit with thousands of stars. The air was thick and humid and Uhura felt her skin covered by a cool mist. She turned towards Spock, her eyes wet with tears.

“What is kae'at k'lasa?” Nyota whispered.

Spock looked down at her, his features contorted in grief. “Mind rape. Kae'at k'lasa is a violation of the mind even more catastrophic than a violation of the body. My mother suffered greatly at Sybok’s hands and required several months under a healer’s care to recover.”

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, her voice thick with her tears.

Spock cocked his head to the side and regarded her sadly before lifting his free hand to cup her cheek. Nyota sighed at the intimacy and undeserved gentleness of the act.

“You have no need to apologize, Nyota. I know not by what means Sybok has imposed himself on you, although I can speculate. Sybok is a gifted telepath. It is not illogical to presume that he has relied on his gift to cloak himself in a veil of credibility.

“As you were ignorant of all I have related to you, you were not able to detect his deception. Furthermore, you are not inclined towards such suspicion as would be required to speculate such a history.”

“I should not have been so foolish,” Nyota replied.

“Many have been deceived by Sybok,” Spock gently replied, dropping his hand from her cheek. “I did not relate these things to condemn you nor to secure your favor. However, I do hope that you will acquit me of the charge of cruelty towards my brother.

“I shall end the meld now. You may experience a moment of disorientation and emotional transference. I will only add, kudau’du.” Spock dropped his hand from hers and dissolved into the blue mist.

Nyota opened her eyes with a loud gasp. She fell heavily against the back of the bench, raising her clenched fist to her mouth as she sobbed openly.  Spock sat quietly by her side until she calmed herself. He produced a handkerchief, which she gratefully accepted. After wiping her cheeks dry, she turned to look at him. Spock was as he ever was. His face was impassive as he regarded her, his posture impossibly straight, his mouth in a tight line. However, his eyes revealed a tempest of emotion that she could not interpret. Nyota tried to speak, to say something, but she found she could not.

“Will you require an escort back to campus, Cadet? Is there someone I should call to attend you?”

Uhura shook her head in the negative. She felt totally wretched and undeserving of his care. All she wanted to do was return to the privacy of her room to weep.

“Then I shall leave you,” Spock replied as he rose to his feet. “Our paths are unlikely to cross again before the start of the academic term. May you have a productive and pleasant summer break. Live long and prosper.”

Nyota watched Spock’s tall lean form walk sedately down the boardwalk until he turned a corner and was out of her sight. She rose from her seat and leaned against the railing. She looked down at Spock’s handkerchief that was damp with her tears.

“How could I be so foolish?”

***************

Spock walked about the city for several hours more before making his way back to his apartment. It had been several months since he had allowed himself to vividly recall his brother’s final betrayal. It was an extremely painful experience, yet he could not regret having shown the memories to Nyota. He supposed that the cadet did not require the knowledge. Indeed, if his father knew that he had shared such intimate family details with another, he would be angry. However, Spock felt that she had to know the full account of his dealings with Sybok as much for his own absolution as for her safety.

Nyota could not have known what sort of man Sybok was. While their minds were locked in the meld, Spock could feel the vestiges of Sybok’s influence lurking in the corner of her mind. His stomach turned at the thought that Sybok could have easily inflicted the same abuses upon Nyota as he had upon Amanda. Now that she was aware of his true character, Nyota would be able to avoid him. Spock, knew that it was illogical to regret not doing more to expose his brother; his regret could do nothing to influence the past. Nyota was lost to him.

Spock came to an abrupt halt as he crested the staircase leading to his apartment. T’Pring stood just outside of his apartment door, her dark eyes fixed on his person. Spock suppressed a sigh of annoyance as he walked towards her. His emotional control was held by a thin thread. Spock desired meditation rather than the confrontation before him.

“T’Pring, why have you come?” Spock asked, dispensing with human niceties.

 “Your absence at the evening meal was noticed, sa-kulgasu,” T’Pring replied.

“I will be sure to make my apologies to Lady T’Pau. I had business at the Academy that could not be delayed.”

“Will you not invite me inside, Spock? Or shall I be forced to engage in a private conversation in a public space?”

Spock stepped around her and entered the code for his apartment. He walked inside a few feet before turning to face her. T’Pring arched one brow in disapproval before stepping inside the apartment.

“Will you not offer me a seat and refreshment, Spock? Perhaps living among humans has robbed you of your manners?”

“Please state the nature of your business,” Spock replied, ignoring her insult.

T’Pring gave him an appraising look before turning and walking towards the window.

“It is quite interesting that your urgent business happened to coincide with the absence of Cadet Uhura,” she stated.

Spock remained still. “To assume that the events are related, T’Pring, is an astounding leap in logic.”

“Perhaps,” T’Pring replied as she walked around his living room. “However, Vulcan women have long known that instinct is sometimes a more appropriate guide than logic.”

“The hour is late and there are matters which require my attention. If your visit has a purpose, please do me the courtesy of stating it plainly.”

T’Pring stopped her circuit of his quarters. “I demand that you cease your inappropriate relationship with the human or I will report your breech of ethics to the Academy board.”

“I do not comprehend.”

T’Pring turned to face him, her dark eyes disapproving. “Cadet Uhura. I forbid you from further social contact with her.”

“Ah,” Spock replied. “May I ask what evidence you are using to support your accusation?”

“I have observed your familiarity with the cadet and I know of your own father’s predilection towards fraternization with human women.”

Spock’s posture straightened. “I do not comprehend how my father’s choice of mate is in any way related to your accusation.”

 “Perhaps I should use language with which you are more familiar. I believe the Terran saying is ‘the apple does not fall far from the tree.’ If you were fully Vulcan, I would not have cause to believe that you would be tempted to engage in… recreational intimate relations prior to our marriage...”

“As you yourself have done with Stonn?” Spock interrupted, his head cocked slightly to the side.

T’Pring’s eyes widened slightly before she recovered her façade of calm. “I should have known that my brother would inform you of my activities. He has always held a peculiar fondness for you. Is it your intention to contact my parents to arrange for the dissolution of our bond?”

 “I have not determined what my course of action will be,” Spock replied as he stepped around her to open his door. “However, until I inform you of my decision, I suggest that you cease leveling accusations and threats. Hypocrisy is unbecoming of a Vulcan. Rom-halan, T’Pring.”

Spock watched her walk from his apartment, her chin jutted out in defiance.

Glossary:

p’sai’kai= little brother

sa’mekh= father

kal-toh= A Vulcan puzzle game composed of a jumble of rods

sa-fu= son

a’duna= wife

kae'at k'lasa= mind rape

kudau’du= God bless you.

sa-kulgasu- fiancé

Rom-halan= good day; farewell