Crossroads
By Lynda M. King
Summary: Traveling from
Vulcan to Earth on a transport ship, a young Sarek and a young Amanda each
stand at a crossroad in the journey of their separate lives. Possessing infinite wisdom,
experience and insight, a familiar yet mysterious 'Hostess' will set each on a
course to find each other...
The
sight was breathtaking. Mesmerized
by the pinpoints of diamond brilliance, Amanda Grayson stood before the expanse
of windows, watching the stars. The
lounge was quiet.
“Can I
get you something?” Guinan asked. She
stood beside the young linguistics teacher.
“No,
nothing. I just like to stand here. ”
“I don’t
blame you,” Guinan said, her own gaze focusing on the star field. “It’s beautiful. ”
“Yes, it
certainly is,” Amanda said softly.
Moving to slip her hands into the deep pockets of her Vulcan robe, she
suddenly realized she wasn’t wearing it.
For the past year, she had taught language studies at the Vulcan Science
Academy. The robe had been part of
her daily work attire, identifying her as an educator while on campus. Wearing it had been a great honor. Amused by her lapse in memory, she
clasped her hands in front of her.
“How
about a nice cup of Meruvian tea?” Guinan offered.
“No,
nothing,” Amanda replied quietly. “Thank
you.”
“You’ll
be leaving soon.”
Guinan’s
statement pierced Amanda’s heart. She
turned. “Yes,” she whispered
softly. ” She hated good-byes. Having completed the terms of her
contract with the Vulcan Science Academy, Amanda wasn’t sure she wanted to
leave Vulcan. But that wasn’t
really the truth. The truth was
she was positive she didn’t want to leave. Yet here she was aboard the U.S.S. Zephyr, heading for
Earth…home…The hostess met her troubled gaze and was silent. Amanda’s attention returned to the star
field.
“What do
you see when you look out there?” Guinan asked.
There
was a pause. “Doubts. Regrets. What ifs…” Amanda’s words trailed.
Guinan
smiled. “That’s not what I mean. I mean when you look out there, don’t
you see your future?” It was a familiar stock question. The variation in answers was of great
interest to the listener.
“I see
my past,” Amanda sighed. She was
engaged to be married when she accepted the English tutoring assignment that
the Vulcan Embassy had offered her in San Francisco. When the Vulcan Science Academy extended her a year-long
invitation to teach on Vulcan, she had, without hesitation, called off the
wedding. Her actions had shocked
her parents. And when she gave
Jack’s ring back before she left, he was devastated.
“And the
memory of what was collides with the reality of what is,” Guinan said simply. Amanda stared out the windows. “Professor Grayson, “ the listener
continued, “the person one becomes depends on the person one has been. Experience doesn’t necessarily teach
you something. You have to learn
from it yourself. The journey in
between what you once were and who you are becoming is where the dance of life
really takes place.” Guinan paused.
“Change is inevitable.” Unshed tears welled in Amanda’s sapphire eyes. “It isn’t easy for him, either,” the
listener said softly. Watching the
stars, she knew that Amanda understood her implied reference to Ambassador
Sarek. Silence enveloped the two
women. “Hitch your wagon to a
star,” Guinan said. Amanda looked
accusingly at the hostess and raised a suspecting eyebrow in a most Vulcan-like
fashion. “Ralph Waldo Emerson,”
the listener admitted. “I
sometimes borrow.” Amanda remained silent, once again focusing her attention on
the stars. Guinan smiled. “What about a cup of nectar direct from
Prometheus?”
Amanda
turned. “No, nothing. That’s the third time you’ve asked me.”
Her tone was sharp.
Guinan
started. “That’s what I’m expected
to do,” she said. “Don’t you
always do what’s expected?”
“I try,”
Amanda replied.
“Even if
it’s not what you really want?”
“Sometimes,”
Amanda said softly. “Sometimes
it’s more important to consider others before yourself. And go home…” Her words trailed. “We don’t always get what we really
want.”
The
listener could hear the sadness in her voice. “Yes,” Guinan conceded. “But sometimes the game is to know when to consider yourself
before others. Give yourself
permission to be selfish. Take a
chance. That’s what you have to do. That’s your next step. Because he is your destiny.”
Stars
sped past.
****
Silhouetted
by the collage of stars, Sarek stood in front of the viewing windows watching
the threads of white light stream by.
The lounge was quiet.
“Can I
get you something?” Guinan asked. She
stood beside the Ambassador from Vulcan, closer than a casual acquaintance
would have dared, most definitely breaching the unspoken boundaries of his
personal space.
“No,
nothing. I simply prefer standing
here.” He made no move to step away from the hostess.
“I don’t
blame you,” Guinan said, her own gaze focusing on the star field. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, indeed
it is.” In an attempt to order his thoughts, Sarek closed his eyes. For the five days he had been aboard
the U.S.S. Zephyr, her image had been ever present in his mind. As illogical as it was, Sarek found it
impossible not to think about…
“How
long has it been?” Guinan asked.
A quiet
air of sophistication surrounded him.
Tall and lean with finely chiseled features, intense deep brown eyes,
and a soft-spoken, mesmerizing voice, he was a formidable individual. The mysterious Vulcan’s regal aura made
most crewmembers aboard the transport ship extremely nervous. He commanded a presence most noble. However, the Al-Aurian seemed quite
comfortable in his dignified company.
Sarek opened his eyes. “One
year, two weeks and five days to be exact,” he replied. “On Terra.”
“In San
Francisco,” Guinan said. “Six
months at the The Boom Boom Room near StarFleet Headquarters; six months at The
Bubble Lounge near the Vulcan Embassy.”
“I
preferred The Bubble Lounge,” Sarek said casually, having visited both
establishments.“ The view of the Bay was quite spectacular.”
The
hostess smiled, knowing full well that the view was not the reason he had
frequented the club. “And before
that?” she asked.
“Two
years, four months, one week and three days,” Sarek said. “You were working on Candari Prime.”
“Right,”
Guinan replied, remembering.“ At
The Liquid Kitty.” She paused. “That joint was well off the beaten
path. While it certainly had
‘character,’ you never did explain how you ended up in such a disreputable
establishment.”
“I was
negotiating a weapons moratorium with the Candarians. Having been invited to visit his private retreat by the
Chief of Council himself, my refusal might very well have escalated the
potentially explosive situation.” Sarek paused, awaiting her response to his
‘joke.’
The
hostess rolled her eyes. Vulcans
did indeed have a sense of humor.
“When in
Rome,” Sarek began.
“Do as
the Romans,” Guinan finished. His
flawless logic always bested her. “Before
that?” she asked.
“Four
months,” Sarek replied. “On the
U.S.S. Mandabach.”
“Now
that was a great ship,” Guinan remembered fondly.
He did
not wait for her next prompt. “Eight
years, seven months and four days,” Sarek said before she had even asked.
“Fat
Chance Bar and Grill on Deep Space Four.” Her eyes narrowed. “If I recall, you closed the place with
me every night.”
Sarek
raised an eyebrow. “I was awaiting
my transport,” he replied, nonchalantly.
Guinan
laughed. “Of course. It was just two weeks late…”
“Indeed
it was,” Sarek admitted. “However,
if I recall, the delay allowed us the opportunity to engage in several
‘spirited’ debates.“ Her black eyes flashed with amusement. “Three years,” he continued.
“Skinny
McDougal’s on Kaynar!” Guinan shook her head. “I certainly met some interesting aliens in that bar.”
“Ten
years, five months, three weeks and two days.”
Guinan
paused. “Cosmo’s. On Moesko. You were with Skon.”
“I was.”
“I’ve
always liked your father,” the listener said.
“Indeed. He is most sociable. For a Vulcan,” Sarek qualified.
His
ability to recite their history of meetings with such precision never ceased to
amaze her. “It’s good to see you
again,” she said.
“And
you,” Sarek replied.
“How
about a nice cup of Meruvian tea?” Guinan offered.
“No,
nothing,” he replied quietly. “Thank
you.”
Guinan
paused. “She’ll be leaving soon,”
the listener said softly. Watching
the stars, she knew that Sarek understood her implied reference to Amanda.
The
Ambassador turned. “Yes,” he
whispered. He could no longer
ignore the reality of Amanda Grayson’s impending departure, not merely from his
homeworld, but quite possibly from his life. The hostess met his troubled gaze and was silent. Sarek’s attention returned to the star
field.
“What do
you see when you look out there?” Guinan asked.
There
was a pause. “Anar. The Hromi Cluster. Epsilon Indi. The Marakei Nebula…” His words trailed.
Guinan
smiled. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, when you look out there, don’t
you see your future?” It was a familiar stock question. The variation in answers was of great
interest to the listener.
Knowing
he was unobserved by anyone but the listener, Sarek sighed. “I see endings,” he said, staring out
the windows. “A lifetime of
endings.”
His
response surprised her. He had
hardly lived a lifetime…
“No
beginnings?” she asked. “Ambassador,
as a diplomat, how can you focus only on endings? For every beginning, there is an ever-present middle
followed by an inevitable end. Beginning,
middle, end. Completion. Don’t you see the connection?It’s
circular. The result of every
ending is the opportunity for each new beginning.” Silence enveloped them. “All that is worth cherishing in this
world begins in the heart, not the head,” Guinan said. Sarek looked accusingly at the hostess
and raised a suspecting eyebrow. “Susan
Chazin,” the listener admitted. “I
sometimes borrow.” Sarek remained silent, once again focusing his attention on
the stars. Guinan smiled. “What about a cup of nectar direct from
Prometheus?”
Sarek
turned. “No, nothing. That is the third time you have asked
me.” The almost imperceptible hint of annoyance in his tone was something that
only she would recognize.
Guinan
started. In all the years she had
known him, the listener had never before heard irritation in his voice. “That’s what I’m expected to do,” she
said. “Don’t you always do what’s
expected?”
“Yes,” Sarek
replied.
“Even if
it’s not what you really want?”
“Yes,”
he admitted. “Duty and
responsibility are great weights. More
often than not one must cast aside self-importance. The needs of the many…”
“Outweigh
the needs of the few,” Guinan finished.
“Or the
one.” Sarek could almost taste the bitterness of his own words.
“Yes,”
the listener agreed. “But
sometimes the game is to know when to consider yourself before others. Give yourself permission to be selfish. Allow for new beginnings.” Guinan
paused, locking gazes with the Ambassador. “Sometimes the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the
many,” the listener said softly. “She
is your soul mate.”
Stars
sped past.
****