My Son by Ster J
DISCLAIMER:
Don’t own Trek. Wish I did. It may own ME, however…
Characters:
Sarek, Spock, Amanda
Rating: PG
Genre:
Drama/Angst
A/N This
takes place post-“Journey to Babel.”
Ever go to a conference, workshop or meeting where you are so bored that
you start writing a letter? Sarek
writes to Spock while the other ambassadors argue over admitting Coridan to the
Federation.
In English, “chai” is a kind of tea. In Vulcan, “Cha'i” is supposed to mean “my son,” but I can’t find a
Vulcan/English dictionary to check that out! [A/N: I found out later that Mai’h and A'nirih (mother
and father [mommy & daddy? ;^D] were coined by KarraCaz, Mene sakkhet
ur-seveh (live long, etc.) is from Diane Duane. Cheree uses cha and Cha'i.]
Stardate:
3850.5
Cha'i,
I am sitting in a
particularly boring and fruitless session.
No one here will listen to reason or logic on the Coridan issue, so I am
choosing to use my time more productively by writing to you.
Your mother still
insists that I thank you for what you did to save my life. I reminded her—again—that one does not thank
logic, but, to be honest, she is right, Cha'i. (My logic has always been uncertain where
you and your mother are concerned.)
I know that it
was an arduous time for you, that there were many extra responsibilities for
you on this mission, and that my illness compounded that difficulty. I understand that, while at first you
volunteered to give me the blood needed for the transfusion, the attack on your
captain precluded you from doing so. I
knew that meant my death. Kaiidth!
While I slept, I
dreamed that you had come down to tell me goodbye. You seemed very distressed that you could not take the time to
save my life. I tried to console you,
but I was too weak. You walked away
weary and disconsolate. I woke up
gasping, “The good of the many!”
“The good of the
many outweighs the good of the few, or the one”—me. You chose “the good of the many,” and rightly so. IT WAS THE LOGICAL
CHOICE AND THE ONLY ONE I WOULD RESPECT!
Fortunately for
me, Cha'i, you are very
gullible! I listened as your friends
prepared their ruse to get you off the Bridge and bring you to my side for the
surgery. Deciding to remain on the
Bridge could not have been a decision without anguish!
I know your
mother’s thoughts, and I know that she struck you. Please do not hold that against her. She was fighting for the life of her bondmate. It reminds me of a similar incident when you
were a toddler, when you came running to me, crying because your mother had
“paddled” you for endangering yourself at the firepot. I held you then, Cha'i, and my “uncertain logic” wishes that I could have held you
again today. This incident, too, must
have been incredibly difficult to bear.
---
I have returned
after yet another pointless discussion (read: argument). There is still no vote.
---
When I awoke and
saw you at my side, I was taken aback that you were even there. (I know that was an illogical response since
the surgery would not have occurred without you!) You were so pale and drained (no humor intended), and I wanted to
pull you into my arms to comfort and warm you through the bouts of nausea. But they whisked me away to the other room,
to where your mother awaited me with the proverbial “open arms.” As she fussed over me, I listened for
you. When they finally brought you out,
you were curled so tightly in on yourself, either asleep or drugged, I know not
which.
I sent comforting
thoughts your way. Did you feel
them? You slept so fitfully that it was
a wonder that you got any rest at all.
At one point, you called my name, and, when the medical personnel
weren’t looking, I crept to your side and whispered to you, my hand on your
head. You looked into my eyes and
gasped, “Oh, God!” and fell into a more peaceful sleep.
I am certain that
you remember the rest, Cha'i. And I am also certain that you detect my
emotions in this letter. My brush with
death has unsettled me, and this conference precludes me from meditating at
length to correct the condition of my katra.
Please forgive my poor example.
I do not rightly
know why I have relayed all these things to you. Perhaps what I mean to say is this: You are a very good son, while I have been so poor a father. I once gave you life, and you have given
life back to me.
The silence
between us has been too long, and I put an end to it now. Your shadow is once again welcome—and longed
for!—at our door. At your first
convenience, please come home. I wish
to be your father once again.
Thankfully,
Sarek
Chapter 2
Stardate 3855.4
A'nirih,
Peace and prosperity, my father, as well as long
life.
I must confess some alarm when Doctor McCoy handed me
the embassy pouch. I thought that
something had happened to you or to M'aih. I realize now that you only wanted to
protect your message to me from what Mother would call “prying eyes.”
It is advantageous that you are allowing Dr. McCoy to
follow your healing process. It is
beneficial to your own health, as well as mine. Otherwise, I would bear the brunt of his concerns and complaints
regarding you!
A'nirih, correct me if I am wrong, but I believe
that this is our first written communication to each other. I know that you sent letters to M'aih whenever you were away on
missions, and I did the same after I left home. And while we included messages for each other in our letters to
her, I do not believe that we have ever sent such a message to each other before. Kaiidth. With this new rapport between us, I will
endeavor to make this only the first of many such correspondences.
I am grateful, A'nirih,
for your candor in your letter. You are
correct in saying that my decision to stay on the Bridge when Captain Kirk was
wounded was most difficult. Given the
same set of circumstances (or, as M'aih
would say, “All things being equal”), I would make the same decision. But, you know, A'nirih, the maxim, “The good of the many” brings no comfort when
precious lives are threatened, or lost.
That is not to say that I disagree with the wisdom of Surak’s
words. It is just that this sacrifice
was the most difficult I have ever made, because it was at your expense.
I should have realized that you would have known
about Mother’s slap to my face. I was
your only hope, yet I refused to help.
I broke M'aih’s heart, and she
had every right to strike me. I, too,
remembered the incident you mentioned when I was 1.35 years old. I illogically wanted to seek you out this
time, too, for consolation, but there was no opportunity. I sent you my thoughts and my apology. It seems that I inadvertently affected your
dreams! I had to struggle through the
mind rules on my way to the Bridge just so I would be able to function. Thank you for my training, for insisting
that I learn the Disciplines. They have
served me well throughout difficult times, as these days have certainly been.
You mentioned holding me when I was a toddler. I remember other times when you indulged me
with such intimacy, most especially whenever I was ill. As I continue my stay in Sickbay, I think
back to those times. I can so clearly
remember being held by you with such gentleness and warmth that just the memory
of it lulls me to sleep.
So, A'nirih,
you say that I am gullible? I suppose that you are right. I seem to be easily duped by my
friends. Their duplicitousness always
catches me unawares. One would think
that I would be “on to them” by now!
(They say that they are duplicitous for my own benefit, koon-ut kali-fee
being their case in point. Such odd
logic!)
I vaguely remember the incident you related when I
woke up briefly to see your face above me.
The drugs that Dr. McCoy gave me for your surgery have played havoc with
my mind, which explains my invocation of the Deity.
A'nirih, you have given me such a rich life, full
of opportunities. You instilled me with
values, knowledge and disciplines. You
gave me the tools I needed to cope with my duality. When I left home, you did not drag me back, but allowed me to
discover and develop my self, my identity.
Please do not say that you have been a poor father. If I were able to select my father, I still
would choose you, without hesitation.
Please notify me when you and M'aih return home. I will
check our schedule and arrange some leave time. I wish to celebrate your new health and to reaffirm our family.
Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, A'nirih. With your heart repaired, this should be
easier to do!
Greetings to Mother.
Your son,
Spock
P.S. If M'aih insists that you should say “Thank
you” to me, then I am certain that she would also insist that I respond in
kind. So, A'nirih, you are welcome!
Chapter 3
Stardate 3856.2
Cha'i,
Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, Spock.
It is fortuitous that your ship is still in orbit
here at the Babel Conference, and that Dr. McCoy is still being so solicitous
regarding my health. I am only
permitting his visits because it is the only way I can check on you at this
time.
Why are you still in Sickbay? Are you still in difficulty from the
drugs? Have you been permanently
injured by them? If so, then perhaps
taking them was not such a good idea after all. I do not want you to trade your life for mine—EVER. Is that understood? You are the last of the line, and that makes
your life more valuable.
Perhaps now you are gaining insight as to why I
opposed your entry into Starfleet. The
galaxy is large and fraught with dangers.
At least at home, I can offer you my protection. Do not remind me of the illogic of this
statement. No one knows that better
than I. (And I know that there are many
things at home that could take your life, but Vulcan does not have the vacuum
of space, hostile enemies and other space-faring dangers!)
Forgive my outburst.
You may be an adult, but you will always be my son. I will always be your father, and fathers—no
matter the species, no matter the logic—sometimes worry (and if that statement
is false for all creatures, it hold true for this father!)
The conference is coming to a close. The vote finally passed this morning, as you
have already heard. Following the
requisite merry-making (your mother’s term) after the fact, we will
disperse. We have been assigned other
transportation, Cha'i, so I will
probably not see you at this time. That
is unfortunate. Kaiidth. I will just have
to wait until you come home. I will
send you my schedule upon my return home.
It is also unfortunate that our personal courier
service will soon cease as well. Your
mother says that we should leave the good doctor a sizeable tip for his
services. I believe the doctor would be
insulted if I were to offer him money.
What would you suggest? Your mother
suggests that he would probably not appreciate “something to dust,” and I am
against giving alcohol, unless. . .
What do you think of this suggestion? We could offer Doctor McCoy, and a companion
of his choice, a meal at our home, and present him with a bottle of the estate
wine? Would that suffice? Perhaps we could also arrange a tour of the
Academy Medical Center, if he would so desire.
I am open to your suggestion.
Be well, my son.
It is my fervent wish that this message does NOT find you still in
Sickbay. I will contact you soon.
M'aih sends her love.
Your father, Sarek
Stardate 3856.9
A'nirih,
Peace and
prosperity, Father!
Of necessity,
this will be a short message. We have
been assigned to ferry a portion of the delegates home from the conference, and
I have much work to do in preparation.
I was released
from Sickbay shortly after I sent the last letter. My blood chemistry is now at acceptable levels, and my blood
production is back to normal.
I wish to discuss
your last letter at depth, but this will have to wait until I can take
leave. You are right about this, A'nirih: I have a better understanding as to why you were so adamantly
against me joining Starfleet. Perhaps
when I come home, I will be able to share with you some of my accomplishments,
things I would never been able to achieve at the Vulcan Science Academy. Perhaps then you will be able to see my
point of view.
The courier is
awaiting the return of this pouch, so I will close now.
I will await your
call.
Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, A'nirih.
Greetings to
Mother.
Your son,
Spock
Stardate 5910.8
A'nirih,
Peace and long
life!
Please forgive my long silence. I know that it has been a year since my last
letter to you. Something has happened
that I wish to share with you.
I met Surak.
The Enterprise
was sent to investigate a planet. Preliminary
scans showed it to be a lava waste with no inhabitants. Then our ship and crew were scanned by
something on the planet, after which we—Captain Kirk and I—received an
invitation to beam down to meet some of the greatest figures in history. This invitation was given by Abraham Lincoln
as he sat outside our sip as it hung in orbit.
Now, Father, I
assure you that I am both sane and sober.
We found that there *are* life forms on the planet we
investigated (The beings call their planet Excalbia.) They were intrigued by us and set up an
experiment to test this theory: <In
a battle of survival, who will prevail?
Good or evil?> The
Excalbians scanned more that just our ship.
They scanned our minds as well.
They pulled from us six historical figures to participate in this
experiment.
Yarnek, the
leader of the Excalbians, assembled Colonel Green, Ghengis Kahn, Kahless, and
Zora for the evil side. The good side
was composed of Captain Kirk and myself, along with Abraham Lincoln and Surak. We were told to battle each other until one
side was victorious.
It was disquieting to see Surak, A'nirih. He looked as I
have always seen him in my meditations, exactly the same. He would not participate in the battle. He tried to convince me to join him in more
peaceful pursuits as I made weapons. I
had to decline, because I had to follow my captain’s orders.
I had to
follow my captain’s orders. In the end, Lincoln and Surak were killed,
the evil side ran away when they saw that we were defeating them, and the
combat was called off because the Excalbians could not see any difference in
the way the two sides battled.
Father, Surak was
killed proposing peace to the evil side as I made weapons for the
battle. I have spent several hours in
deep meditation over these events. I
considered all the times that I was ordered to act in a way contrary to my
beliefs. I recognized in myself a need
to reconnect with all that is Vulcan. I
finally admitted to myself that I am…feeling…lost.
This five-year
mission is coming to an end. The ship
will go into the yards for a major refit that will take at least two
years. It is time for me to reenlist…or
not.
I am considering
whether or not I should resign my commission.
I am considering whether some time at Gol might be in order. I am tired.
I am without an anchor at present.
My refusal to help Surak in his quest for peace tells me that I have
given up many of my beliefs, my morals, myself, in this career.
It is time to come home.
Would you be so
kind to make arrangements for my stay at Gol?
The Enterprise still has several months left in this tour of duty. I will let you know the exact time to expect
me as soon as I know myself.
Peace and long
life, A'nirih. Greetings to Mother.
Your son,
Spock
My Son!
Sarek sat
stunned. He replayed the latest message
from Spock once, twice. This was indeed
disquieting.
I met Surak.
Spock did not
say, “I have met someone who believes that he is Surak.”
They scanned our
minds as well. They pulled from us six
historical figures to participate in this experiment.
Obviously, this
“Surak” was pulled from Spock’s own mind, or could it actually be the essence
of the ancestor’s katra that each of Surak’s descendants carry within
themselves?
No matter. What
truly disturbed Sarek was that Spock was once again going to the extreme to
solve his problems. Constant rejections
from his fellow Vulcans chased Spock to Earth and Starfleet. Now, “contamination” from humans has chased
him back home, and to Gol, of all places!
Sarek groaned
inwardly. While he would … feel … more
secure with having his son in a safer environment than the perils of space and
military service, Sarek knew that Spock would be more cut off from his parents
in the monastery at Gol than he ever was in Starfleet.
And how will
Amanda take this? Will she see this as
yet a further rejection from Spock?
Sarek remembered her tears when Spock announced that he would follow the
Vulcan way after his private attempt at kahs-wan, when that strange
cousin Selek followed him and the sehlat Ee-chiah into the desert night. When Spock almost died. Sarek then recognized the folly of his
previous thought that planet bound life was safe.
Sarek read the
letter again, this time paying more attention to the tone of the message,
rather than just the meaning of the words.
I considered all the times that I was ordered to act in a way contrary to my beliefs. I recognize in myself a need to reconnect with all that is Vulcan. I finally can admit to myself that I am … feeling … lost.
Lost.
Sarek stared at that word, letting it sink down into his soul. Lost. Sarek’s mind flashed back to when Spock was lost to them, when
the kidnappers had taken the young boy from his bed. He was lost and cut off from his family for three long days. It was agony for them all. Lost. Yes, Sarek understood all too well.
My refusal to
help Surak in his quest for peace tells me that I have given up many of my beliefs, my morals, my self,
in this career.
Sarek recognized
the bitterness of these words. Spock
had compromised his personal convictions.
A small part of Sarek was secretly pleased that he had been successful
in instilling in his son such strong convictions that these actions to the
contrary disturbed Spock. An even
smaller part disapproved that he didn’t always stand by these convictions. But most of all, Sarek just ached for his
boy, his son.
It is time to come home.
Sarek ran a
finger over these words. Home. Yes, home, but with his parents. Safe in his own room, a place where he could
restore his health. Oh, Sarek would
contact the monastery at Gol all right, but only after Spock had sufficient
transition time. And even then, Sarek
vowed that he would only make arrangements for a temporary stay.
Sarek turned to
his console to compose his reply.
- - - - - - - - -
5925.3
Cherished son,
Peace and long
life! I received your message and was
compelled to reply immediately.
Don’t come home
in pain, Cha'i. Come home satisfied will all of your great
accomplishments. Don’t go running from
one source of suffering into a new source of anguish! Gol will require you to renounce your human self. How can you live as half a being? Have you considered Amanda’s reaction to
your decision?
Come home to your
mother and me first. Let us comfort you
and allow you to heal. If after this
time you still wish to go to Gol, I will take you there myself.
Be at peace, Cha'i.
I await your return.
Your father,
Sarek
P.S. I will
not show your message to your mother.
Let her anticipate your homecoming with joy.
Chapter 6
Spock stopped
inside the front entrance to his family home.
He hadn’t announced his arrival, hadn’t even told his parents when to
expect him. He dropped his gaze and let
his carryall fall to the floor, his harp resting on top haphazardly. The rest of his things were being shipped on
a slower transport and were not expected to arrive for a week.
Spock lifted his
eyes to gaze at the shrine of the ancestors set near the door. One never left nor entered the home without
putting a grain of incense on the embers.
Spock always put two—one for his father’s fathers and another for his
mother’s mothers. Today, he added a
third for Captain Pike, who, although not dead per se, was lost to him
due to the situation of Talos IV. Spock
added a fourth and fifth for Lieutenants Gaetano and Latimer who were lost
while exploring the Murasaki 312 quasar.
Another was added for Zarabeth.
He added more as he remembered other crewmembers that died under his
command, more for those aliens who died at his hand, and still more for the
image of Surak that died on Exo III because he followed orders rather than with
Surak to negotiate for peace,
Great clouds of smoke billowed from the shrine, burning Spock’s
eyes. His watery eyes soon swam with
true tears as his soul broke open.
Soon, his sobs resounded in the entry.
Amanda sat up in bed. “Spock?”
she whispered.
Her movements awakened Sarek who sniffed the air. “Fire!” he breathed.
Amanda leapt from the bed, grabbing and donning her robe as she padded
barefoot down the hallway. Sarek
followed behind, also adjusting his robe along the way. Amanda stopped at the wall of white, fragrant smoke that obscured their
home’s entry. Sarek moved to the shrine
and, using the sleeves of his robe to protect his skin, picked up the bowl of
embers and carried it out the door and into the courtyard. When he re-entered, he espied Amanda bending
over their son. Amanda put gentle hands
under Spock’s arms and eased him to his feet.
Sarek guided them to a less smoky part of the house.
“So many,” Spock
moaned. “So many!”
“So many, what, Cha'i?” Sarek asked.
Spock took a
great, shuddering breath. “So many dead,”
Spock sobbed. After a while, he turned miserable eyes to his father. “I’ve lost myself.” He paused to gulp a breath. “You were right, A'nirih, you were right.
Starfleet was not the place for me.”
“Oh, Spock,”
Amanda breathed, “how can you say that?
Look at all the good you did.”
”Look at all the lives I took,” Spock retorted. “Look at all the compromises I had to make to follow
orders!” Spock shook his head. “It took the death of Surak to awaken
me.” He turned back to Sarek. “Please, take me to Gol, Papa. I need to find myself. I need to find myself. I need to learn again what it means to be a
Vulcan.”
Sarek wiped the
tears gently from his son’s cheeks. “Ten
days, my son,” he murmured. “Give me,
give us ten days. You’ve only now
come back to us. Give us the chance to
help you to heal. You may use the time
to rest, to meditate, to exercise, to play your harp, to let your mother
indulge you, whatever you wish. Just,
please stay. I only ask for ten
days. If, at the end of that time, you
still want to go to Gol, I will take you there myself.”
Spock eventually,
reluctantly nodded.
Sarek did not see
his son for the rest of the day. Spock
had holed himself up in his room and did not come out for any meal. When Sarek finally entered Spock’s room, the
ambassador found his son sleeping, curled tightly on his side. Sarek eased the door shut and left quietly.
On the second day
since Spock’s return, Sarek espied his son in a shaded garden enclosure. Spock’s face was not blank from meditation,
but instead it held a deep frown as if Spock was concentrating fiercely.
Again, he ate
nothing.
On the third day,
Sarek brought a mug of a thick, smooth soup to Spock’s room. Before he even opened the door, Sarek heard muffled
sounds that pulled at his heart. Again,
Sarek eased the door open and saw Spock on his bed. But this time Sarek found Spock sitting on his heels, his head
pressed tightly into a pillow as great sobs shook his frame. Sarek set the mug down and rushed to his
son’s side. He gathered Spock into his
arms and rocked him gently. “All right,
Cha'i, all right,” Sarek murmured
into Spock’s hair. “We will go to Gol
now, as you wish.”
Spock turned into
Sarek’s arms and buried his face on his father’s shoulder. Spock relaxed gradually and soon stopped
crying. He turned green-rimmed, swollen
eyes to Sarek. “Y-you wanted me to wait
ten days,” he gulped.
Sarek smoothed
Spock’s hair and shook his head. “If it
makes you this miserable, it is not logical to make you wait. We will leave as soon as you are
ready.”
Spock closed his
eyes in relief. “Thank you, A'nirih,” he whispered. A wet, cool cloth appeared before
Spock. He looked up to see Amanda
pressing it into his hands. He could
see that she was crying, too. “M'aih?” he breathed. Amanda’s lip quivered, but she didn’t
respond. “Mama?”
“Oh, Spock,” she
cried. “I know that you need to find
peace, but for us it will be the same as when you were in Starfleet. You will be away from us, cut off even more
than before.” Amanda raised a hand to
her trembling chin. “I’m sorry,” she
whispered as she turned to go.
Spock stopped her
with a touch. “I have to do this.” I have to try.”
Amanda shook her
head. “You used that argument twenty
years ago.”
Spock shook his
head. “It’s not the same.”
Amanda leaped
forward. “You’re right,” she exclaimed
vehemently. “This time it is worse. On Gol you will be forced to reject the part
of you that comes from me. You’ll be
rejecting me.”
Spock’s mouth dropped
open. He took in his mother’s angry
stance and flashing eyes. At his
continued shocked silence, Amanda sighed in frustration and left the room. Spock turned to his father.
“You must
understand, Cha'i,” Sarek said. “Your mother feels that you are rejecting her
when you reject your human side.”
“But, there is no
middle ground for me, “ Spock replied.
“That has only caused pain. I am
Vulcan by birth, Vulcan by blood, and Vulcan by choice. I need to re-establish myself as a
Vulcan. I have to exorcise these
violent tendencies. I have to atone for
these deaths.”
Sarek took the
wet cloth from Spock’s hand and wiped his face gently. “I will not presume to dictate to you how to
live your life, Cha'i,” Sarek said
quietly. That only brought twenty
years of animosity and silence between us, he thought. “I only want you to consider the
consequences of your actions. You may
not agree with your mother’s reaction, but she has a right to her feelings.”
Spock squirmed. “When are my … feelings … valid? My needs?” he added sullenly. Sarek set the cloth aside.
“I am not trying
to talk you out of your decision, Cha'i.”
“Aren’t
you?”
Sarek shook his
head. “I just want you to see the full
scope of your actions.” Spock fell
silent as Sarek continued to study him for several minutes. “Why Gol?”
Spock was
startled by the sudden question. He
raised his eyebrow in response.
“Why Gol?” Sarek
repeated. “The monks will want to
know. What will you tell them?”
Spock shrugged. “What I have told you, I suppose,” he
responded.
“You
‘suppose’? Is it not because you are
angry at your commanding officer?”
“What?” Spock
breathed.
“You said that
your captain required things of you that went contrary to your Vulcan beliefs
and training. ‘Look at all the
compromises I had to make to follow orders,’ you said.” Sarek watched as Spock’s cheeks darkened.
“James Kirk has
no control over me here.”
“Ah,” Sarek
replied, “so you go to Gol to escape Kirk?”
Spock’s head
snapped up. “I am escaping nothing,” he
retorted. “I am going to Gol to
re-center myself. I have dallied at the
end of my nerve endings for too long.
Emotions have become my undoing.
Logic is my only salvation.”
Spock drew himself away from Sarek.
“If you will not take me to Gol, I will make the journey myself.”
Sarek rose up and
stood before his son. “No need, Cha'i,” he murmured gently. “I said that I would take you to Gol, and I
shall.” Sarek dropped his gaze
briefly. “Please permit one last question.” He returned his gaze to Spock, who waited
warily. “Must you go
forever? Could you not study with the
monks as an extern?”
Spock shook his
head slowly. “No, A'nirih,” he whispered stiffly.
“I know myself. No half
measures. It can only be all or nothing
for me.” Sarek lowered his gaze once
more, this time to hide the loss he already felt. Spock was an adult, and Sarek had to trust that his son knew what
he was doing.
But he didn’t
have to like it.
Stardate 5959.0
Cherished son,
Peace and long
life, Cha'i! I hope that the monks have permitted you to
keep this last note, or at least to read it once.
I have considered
your reasons for going to Gol. I have
come to the conclusion that you are old enough to decide your own life’s
path. It is my sincere desire that you
will find what you need there. I only
want what is best for you. That is what
I have always wanted for you.
I wish you
success in your endeavors. However, if
you ever decide to leave Gol, there will be fresh water at our open gate for
you.
Be at peace.
Mene sakkhet ur-seveh, Cha'i.
Your father,
Sarek
P.S. M'aih wishes to add a note.
I will always
love you, Spock, and hold you in my heart forever!
Your mother,
Amanda
Epilogue 2
Stardate 7415.8
A'nirih’i, M'aih’i,
I have decided to
remain with Starfleet.
No doubt you have
heard about the recent events regarding V’Ger.
I had an epiphany during this crisis, one that I am still trying to
fully understand. I know now that I
must forge my own path. (I can hear you
even now, Mother, saying, “I told you so!”)
I know that
serving as science officer on the Enterprise is my best destiny, at least for
now.
I wish to discuss
this with the two of you as soon as our schedules permit.
Take care. Be well.
Be at peace. Know that I am at
peace.
Your son,
Spock
THE END