The beauty of living on a ship is not the enormous melting pot of people and species, not the oddly tasteful space food, or even a certain captain's constant nagging. Spock would say that it is the view. The stars of a thousand galaxies is more than anyone can take. This is what he thought before. Then he got married, and had a child. That's more than he could have ever asked for.

He held the infant Iburu in his arms. His beautiful brown skin and pointed ears reminded him of why he was a father. He looked beside him and met his wife's face. She was beautiful as ever in her usual red dress, prepared for the voyage ahead. He looked back down to their child and resisted the urge to chuckle to himself. He was inexplicably happy but he still had a reputation to uphold.

Bones was giving each of them a health exam before the ship left to continue their five year tour.

"Iburu is doing well. You both know I don't think he should be travelling so young, but the earlier he does, the more he's exposed to the galaxy's diseases," Bones sighed.

"This life is ours, and his too. The earlier he is exposed to this life the quicker it will become his," Spock nodded.

"What my husband is trying to say is that we can't neglect our duties or our son," she smirked at her husband and took Iburu from his arms. Spock didn't want to give him up, but he did anyway. The next few days would be a big transition for him, but he'd be there with both his parents. Neither Spock nor Nyota were prepared to let him go.