Sorry this is short :(
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. Wish I did though...
" = English
* = Vulcan
Spock groaned as a glass of dark murky brown liquid was placed in front of him. "Drink it all in as few sips as you can." Spock took one look at the glass and raised his eyebrow. Sensing Spock's enquiry, Caitlyn shook her head. There's no meat in it, but trust me, you don't want to know what's in it. Spock nodded, took the glass in his hands, and gulped it down. Immediately he gagged at the horrible taste. Caitlyn set another glass, this one filled with water, on the table. "Drink slowly, and keep pressing that pad to your head. I'll be right back with the first aid kit."
It was silent after Caitlyn left the room, the only sound coming from Spock sipping his water. "Well…" Eddy began in an attempt to break the mood, "she's…interesting."
"Interesting?" Jim exclaimed. "How about AWSOME! How come you've never told us about her Robin?"
"I told you already." Robin said. "She doesn't like to be known. Only a few people outside the family really know of her existence. I doubt any of her customers know she's half-Vulcan. She wears a scarf around her forehead to cover her ears most of the time."
"I believe the Vulcan Council has any knowledge of her as well." Spock stated. "If they had, she would not be here."
"What do you mean?" Jim asked.
"Throughout my life, the Council has believed me to be the only Vulcan/human hybrid in existence. They have done many…tests on me." Spock swallowed. He did not like talking about the doctors and scientists made him do for the sake of research. They were painful and humiliating. He doubted his father actually knew what they did to him. "I have no doubt that if Caitlyn's existence was known, she would have been raised on Vulcan and subjugated to the same things as I was. Not to mention, she is a female. The scientists at the academy would want to know if gender plays a role in results."
At that moment, Caitlyn walked back in carrying a white tin box and a role of bandages. She scooted out a plastic chair from under the table and set the box down. "Mary's getting the communication com system set up." She told the others. "You should go down to make the call to Pike." Robin nodded and directed Eddy and Jim out of the room. Caitlyn then turned to Spock. "Okay, let's take a look." She carefully eased the pad in Spock's hand off his head to reveal a now clean gash over his left eyebrow. "Good. It's not as big as I thought it was." Caitlyn opened the tin box and took out a bag of cotton balls, and a bottle of clear liquid.
"It would be more efficient if you use a medical scanner." Spock stated.
"This is a tattoo parlor." Caitlyn stated unscrewing the cap to the bottle. She held the cotton to the opening and poured the liquid on to it. "It's better if we treat things here the old fashioned way. What doctors use now leaves more scaring on the tissue than this." Suddenly, Caitlyn grabbed Spock by the chin and turned it all the way to the side. "This will sting." She said and she pressed the cotton to Spock's head, followed by a hiss. With expert ease, she dabbed the cotton along the cut, cleaned the blood around it, and applied a new pad held to Spock's skin with tape. "That should do until you can get to a doctor."
As she began to put the supplies back into the tin box, Spock's curiosity finally got the better of him. "How is it that you came into existence? I was not aware that there were any others…"
"Like yourself?" Caitlyn finished with a smirk. Spock nodded. *Believe it or not, there are others like us.*
Spock's eyebrow again went up. *You speak Vulcan fluently.*
*My mother believed that it would be an advantage if I were to learn.*
*And your father?*
At this, Caitlyn slammed down the lid of the tin box. *I am sorry.* Spock apologized. *We do not have to talk about him.*
Caitlyn sighed. *It is a sore subject.* She said. She bit her lips in ponder and then shoved the tin box away from her. She went straight towards one of the cabinets in the kitchen and opened it. Spock could hear her rifling through utensils and silver ware. At last, she took out a small, leather-bound, booklet with pages that were yellow and well-worn. Without leafing through it, she opened the book directly to a page about a quarter of the way in and sat it down in front of Spock. *That's him.* She pointed to the picture that was pasted onto the paper.
Spock could see from the picture that Caitlyn's father was very handsome according to Vulcan standards. He had dark brown hair, almost black, unblemished skin, and a lean but obviously muscled body. He was also, Spock could tell, from the crest on the Vulcan's robes that he was from a very rich and upper class family. The Vulcan was standing, back erect, face void of emotion, next to a woman that Spock assumed was Caitlyn's mother. To outsiders, it would seem that the Vulcan in the picture cared nothing for the woman standing and smiling next to him, but Spock could see the tiniest hint of adoration and love displayed in his eyes. This was exactly how Spock's father looked at his mother. Again, Spock's eyes were drawn to the crest on the robes of the Vulcan. For some reason, it looked similar to him.
*I've never met him. The only thing I know is his name.* Caitlyn pointed under the picture at the name that was scribbled down in pencil. Serron. Spock felt a pang in his gut. He now remembered what family the crest belonged to. And with this knowledge, he now remembered Serron. He had only seen him once; the day he and T-Pring were bonded. Serron was her uncle.
"She would be most displeased if she found out this relation." Spock mused.
*My mother was treating children at a new colony when she met my father.* Caitlyn said. *She hated him at first. He was always criticizing her methods of healing. My mother even slapped him once.* Caitlyn chuckled. *Sometime later, he asked her out.*
*And they developed romantic feelings for each other.* Spock said.
Caitlyn frowned. *His family wouldn't allow the union to continue. They literally kicked her out of his life. She never got to say goodbye. Fourteen months later, here I am.*
Spock nodded. T-Pring's family was all about purity and preservation. They only associated themselves with families of upper standing and high power; thinking themselves above all other Vulcans and species. He knew the only reason why they allowed T-Pring to bond with him was because of his relation to Surak.
"I have been called away early to settle disputes with the Klingon representatives." Sarek pronounced.
"Is there any more news on the attack that happened today?" Pike asked.
"Not that I have heard." Sarek answered. "However…"
Karatek nodded, and then drew his mind out of the conversation, trying not to give any hint of nervousness. Things were already going wrong as it was. Just how hard was it to catch children?
"Ambassador Sarek!" The group turned to find a young, Starfleet personal running towards them, a video disk in his hands. "You need to have a look at this!"
Ten minutes later in the security main room, the personal popped the disk into a player, and up on the screen, an image of a San Francisco street appeared. "We received this from the police when they were checking the video cameras on the Klingon attack today." The personal explained.
"Why is it important that I see this footage, when other officials need it to investigate?" Sarek drawled.
"See that bench over there? The one with the kids on it?" The personal zoomed in on the image as the video was playing out. They could see four kids eating ice cream, three boys and one girl. They all had skate boards with them, and one of the boys was wearing a hooded jacket.
"JIM YOU SON-OF-A-B*" Pike screamed.
"Captain Pike," Sarek said, "While humans tend to say immoral language around each other, please refrain from-" It was at that moment that the Klingons attacked, and Karatek almost had a heart attack. He could see the boy with the jacket being pushed to the ground, his hood coming off in the process, exposing the boy's pointed ears and partial face with slanted eyebrows. He could see that Sarek had noticed this as well. Things were really getting worse.
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