Title: The Imposters

 

Author: mzsnaz

 

Series:  TOS

 

Characters:  The original TOS cast, in addition to Sarek and Amanda, belong to Paramount and Viacom.

The numerous original characters, whether Human, Vulcan, or Medari, are mine.

 

Rating:  PG

 

Disclaimer:  Star Trek is the property of Paramount and Viacom.  

 

Summary:  One of Sarek’s earliest missions as Ambassador ends in disaster as a terrorist bombing shatters a diplomatic meeting.  The question – did Spock and Amanda die in the blast?  Forty years later, the Enterprise crew is unexpectedly pulled into the mystery.

 

Special Thanks to Selek for the beta-read, and to all those who have reviewed and offered advice and kind encouragement.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Imposters ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

     Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise was a man who liked action.  This was not action.  He’d been listening with growing impatience as the young Medari female explained for the third time that the Governor of Medaris would be available soon.  It just wasn’t going to happen within his expected time frame, which was now.

 

     “Jim, you might want to take a seat,” McCoy suggested, rolling his eyes slightly, “it’s pretty obvious that the Governor is taking his sweet time.  Enjoy the view!  Spock is.”

 

     The First Officer looked over at the Doctor.  “I am merely acquainting myself with the landscape of this area, Doctor.  I am not ‘taking in the view’, as you would say.”

 

     McCoy glowered at the Vulcan.  “Fine.  So, you’ve been ‘acquainting’ yourself for almost 15 minutes.  I’d say that you should know the place backward and forward by now.”

 

     Spock didn’t comment, as expected.  He turned back to the spectacular view from the veranda.  The Medari were exceptional gardeners, and the second story terrace view from the Governor’s residence looked more like a picture than an actual live scene.  Bright shades of tangerine, navy blue and magenta foliage mixed in a perfect harmony of color.  The soft, constant breeze seemed to caress the plants in such a way that they moved in unison to some unheard tune.  The color scheme struck Kirk as somehow wrong, and yet it was so strikingly balanced that it was beautiful.  He smiled at McCoy.

 

     “Bones, you have to admit, this place is pretty amazing.”

 

     McCoy dismissed the observation with the wave of his hand.  “Give me green any day.  These colors are giving me a headache.”

 

     “Gentlemen!”

 

     The three men turned to where the voice emanated.  A large, gregarious Medari male was moving swiftly toward them from the entryway as his tentacled arms waved in a rather wild fashion.  Kirk knew from the information he had on the Medari people that the waving was meant as a welcome.  It reminded him instead of an octopus attack.  As with most of the Medari, the Governor wore a long, flowing robe of bright green that complimented his dark salmon coloring.

 

     “My apologies, gentlemen!  I have a tendency to talk too much.  So much to do!” He continued to sway even as he came to a stop in front of them. “It is an honor to have representatives of the Federation back among us!”

 

     Jim Kirk and the landing party bowed slightly to the Medari Governor as protocol had specified.  “It is our pleasure to be here, Governor I’ay’ki.  We have high hopes of establishing a mutually beneficial relationship between the Federation and the Medari people.”

 

     The Governor seemed to rock back and forth on a base of sturdy, tree-like tentacles.  Jim hoped that the movement was a sign of accord as he gazed up at I’ay’ki.

 

     “Yes, yes,” I’ay’ki agreed, “it is most gratifying to have members of the Federation here again.  It has been far too long since… well, since the last time.”

 

     The Starfleet officers nodded solemnly.  Jim looked over at Spock, wondering what he was thinking.  If anyone would be affected, it would be him.  Jim cleared his throat.  “Well, yes, it has been a long time.  In fact, my First Officer was here, although I doubt he remembers much about it.”

 

     The Governor settled his unblinking stare on Spock.  “You were here?  I don’t recall seeing you.”

 

     Spock looked vaguely uncomfortable as he responded.  “I believe that the reason you do not remember me has to do with the fact that I was being carried around by my Mother at that time.  I was an infant.”

 

     The Governor stopped waving his tentacles, which he had been doing since his arrival, and gazed more intently at the Vulcan.

 

     “I still do not recall an infant, except… Ah, but let’s not dwell on the past, shall we?  Let us relax in the inner rooms.  The thin air may be affecting you gentlemen negatively.”

 

     The landing party glanced at each other, puzzled by the sudden shift in the conversation.  They followed the Governor into his residence.

 

     In comparison to the bright, gaudy colors outside, the rooms of the Governor’s home were plain.  The muted light beige and off-white shades appeared to be the only colors permitted in the vast rooms.  The Governor led them to his immense office, which could double as an auditorium in a pinch.  He came to a stop in the middle of the space and turned back to the officers as he spoke.

 

     “It is such an unfortunate situation that has kept us from establishing ties with the Federation.  Unfortunate.”  He seemed to move his body from side to side in an apparent attempt to imitate a shaking head.

 

     Jim nodded.  “Yes, the last time ended tragically for all parties involved.  It is our wish to re-establish the ties that were begun then.”

 

     The Governor began to sway slightly.  “Yes, that is our wish, also.  Believe me, gentlemen, if we could have foreseen the events that occurred…”

 

     McCoy cleared his throat as he hesitantly interrupted.  “Begging your pardon, Governor, but I’m not completely familiar with what happened.  I know there was some sort of attack on the assembled officials, but that’s all I know.”

 

     Spock raised an eyebrow and looked over at I’ay’ki.  “Sir, if you will permit me?”

 

     The Governor appeared to nod again.  “Yes, certainly.”

 

     “40.323 years ago, an assembly of the Medari and Federation officials met in the Grand Hall to discuss Federation membership.  The Grand Hall is located 1.267 kilometers from our present location and is visible from the terrace.  The delegates were tense due to a rather unexpected shift in the Medaris political climate that did not bode well for the Federation.  At one point, several groups of officials began a vehement discussion about whether or not Medaris should join.  Suddenly, an explosion shattered the meeting.  There were a number of casualties and my Mother was one of those injured.”

 

     Both McCoy and Kirk looked at Spock, surprised by his statement.  Jim looked at his friend, concern in his eyes.  “Your Mother?  I didn’t know she had been hurt.  What about you?  You were there, too, weren’t you?”

 

     “As the blast occurred, Mother turned away and shielded me.  She was knocked to the floor, unconscious; however, considering the magnitude of the explosion, she and I were fortunate to escape relatively unscathed.”

 

     The Governor continued to sway as he spoke.  “Yes, it was a most regrettable incident.  Five individuals lost their lives that day…one Medari and four Federation members.  Most regrettable, indeed.  We have learned a great deal since then about security.  Please be assured that those responsible paid dearly for their actions.”

 

     Jim noticed that Spock was looking puzzled.  “Is there a problem, Spock?”

 

     The Vulcan continued to look confused as he focused his attention back to I’ay’ki.  “Excuse me, Governor.  Our official record of the meeting states that only three people lost their lives that day.  You did say five, correct?”

 

     The Governor stopped moving.  “Yes, five.  It is a well-established fact that five persons lost their lives that day.  Come, let me show you.”

 

     He moved over to a large screen that was set flush against a wall.  As his tentacles moved over the screen, the three Starfleet officers watched the blank screen light up and numerous strange hieroglyphic symbols filled the void.  The Governor continued moving his tentacles directly against the screen, and suddenly, it changed to Federation Standard language.

 

     “There, Gentlemen.  As I said, five dead.”

 

     The three men read the screen in stunned silence.  The five names were:

 

-         I’Ry’Da, diplomat for Medaris

 

-         Ursula Driscott, junior diplomat, Federation

 

     -    Chen Li, senior diplomat, Federation

 

     -     Amanda Grayson, wife of Ambassador, Federation

 

     -     Infant son of Amanda Grayson, wife of Ambassador, Federation

 

     The three Starfleet officers continued to stare at the screen for several seconds, too shocked to speak.  Finally, Spock turned to the Medari Governor, his voice unusually calm.

 

     “Sir, I do not wish to sound impudent, but there is an error in your casualty list.  The Ambassador’s wife and son are alive.  My Mother is the wife of Ambassador Sarek, and I am their son.”

 

     The Governor swayed slightly as he considered Spock’s words.  He also spoke in a hushed tone.  “That is not possible.  As a junior diplomat, I was at the meeting in the Hall that night.  When the blast occurred, I was near the back.  During the chaos that followed, several Medari, including myself, went to the source of the explosion to offer assistance.  Those closest to the explosion were dead.  I saw their bodies personally.  I saw the Ambassador’s wife and child.”  He swayed from left to right in his imitation of a shaking head, “It was most horrific.”

 

     Spock’s quiet, precise inflection indicated to those who knew him well his disquiet.  “Governor, I am the Ambassador’s son.  My Mother, the Ambassador’s wife, is alive and well on Vulcan.”

 

     “You cannot be the child I saw.  That child is dead, as is its Mother.”  The Governor’s unyielding utterance left little room for discussion.

 

     Jim observed Spock’s reaction and was deeply concerned by the stillness in his demeanor.  The Doctor took a step closer to Spock, as he too noted the change.  He leaned in slightly toward the Vulcan as he spoke.  “You know, Spock, with all the noise and confusion that was no doubt happening, it would be easy to mistake a seriously injured person as dead.  You and your Mother were simply put on the wrong list, which can happen in the aftermath of a disaster.  Since our ties with Medaris aren’t all that strong, I’m guessing that the list was never corrected.”

 

     Spock blinked and tilted his head slightly toward the Doctor, and McCoy thought he saw a momentary flash of gratitude in the Vulcan’s dark eyes that was quickly replaced by a look of indignation.  “Of course, Doctor.  I am convinced that there is a logical reason for the error.”

 

     “Of course there is,” Kirk agreed, “Governor, other than your own recollections, are you aware of any visual records of the meeting?”

 

     The Governor continued to sway slightly as he spoke.  “Gentlemen, I know that there is a recording, but I would advise against seeing it.  It is most distressing.”

 

     “It would be beneficial if we could see it,” Spock said, his voice once again quiet, but determined.  “It may help to clarify the discrepancy surrounding the number of fatalities.”

 

     I’ay’ki moved back over to the screen and hesitated slightly.  “Very well.  You have been warned.”  The Governor placed his tentacles once more on the screen and soon a recording began.

 

     A lavishly decorated open room with several hundred Medari and Federation members appeared on the screen, the noisy background filled with talk and laughter.  The operator of the recording devise moved expertly through the crowds, taking in the atmosphere of goodwill that appeared to predominate.  Occasionally, however, an overheard argument was captured on the tape, most notably between members of the Medari diplomats and the invited Medari guests.  The recorder discretely passed the heated discussion groups as it headed toward more friendly vistas.  Soon, the focus was on a group of women gathered near the front of the Assembly Hall.

 

     The women’s attention was on a beautiful young lady holding a baby.  Jim’s eyes widened with recognition.  Amanda Grayson had the most luminous smile as she pulled back the blanket to allow the doting women to see the dark-haired child.  She flushed with pride at the ooh’s and ahh’s from the others.  A stately Medari female dressed in a frilly blue dress swayed back and forth as she observed the baby.  Her clear voice could be heard over the others.

 

     “Yes, they are most cute at his stage of development,” she stated, “soon, however, their tentacles are into everything.”

 

     A flash of light and a cracking boom resounded throughout the Hall and abruptly ended the women’s delighted laughter.  They were extremely close to the detonation point and the screen was filled with a blinding white light.  Disoriented, wild images filled the screen, and the three men turned away momentarily until the images cleared.  Screams of panic and pain could be heard on the recording as the sounds echoed throughout the hall.  Many of those assembled made a mad dash to the exits.  Others moved forward to offer assistance to those injured.  Then…

 

     Jim instinctively moved closer to Spock as the recording focused back on the women that only moments earlier were laughing…and alive.  The operator moved from body to body as Medari medical personnel swarmed the scene.  The last image caught before the recording abruptly ended was the site of the lifeless body of Amanda, still clutching the baby.  The bright crimson and green stains of their blood intermingled and covered them.  The recording ended and the Governor began to sway once again from left to right.

 

     “I’m sorry, gentlemen.  But as you can see, they died.  I’m truly sorry.”

 

     “That is not possible.”  Spock’s voice was barely audible.

 

     Jim cast a swift glance over toward Spock.  The Vulcan’s usual cool demeanor was in place, but there was a haunted look in his eyes.  Jim cleared his voice to speak, but was interrupted by the Doctor, his Southern drawl more evident as he reacted to the tape.

 

     “Well, I don’t know exactly what that was, but I’m pretty sure that Spock and his mother are just fine.  I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but I don’t think that the recording is real.”

 

     The Governor’s tentacles began to move in a quick, random pattern as he turned his attention to the Doctor.  “Not REAL?  I can assure you that the recording is authentic.  I was there, and observed the situation with my own eyes and senses!  The deaths of the Federation and Medari members caused the rift that has continued for these many years.  We only recently contacted the Federation again, and you were sent.  Our desire is to join the Federation, but only if we are to be trusted.  Is that understood?”

 

     McCoy’s raised his eyebrows at Jim, who realized he was on the dangerous brink of either winning or losing the Governor’s approval, and that of Medaris, based on what he said next.  He turned on his most charming smile as he spoke.

 

     “Governor, I can assure you that we want Medaris as a Federation member.  You must understand that this is a rather unique situation that we find ourselves in.  My First Officer and his Mother, who are very much alive, are somehow presumed to be dead according to your record and the visual evidence.  We know what we believe, and we would appreciate the chance to examine and research the information available about the deaths of the five people in the Great Hall.  Would that be possible?”

 

     The Governor’s frantic movements slowed as he considered the request.  “It is most odd that you insist on examining the facts; however, I shall grant you access to what we have available.”

 

     Jim continued to smile, relieved by the positive response of the Governor.  “That would be most appreciated.  If you don’t mind, sir, this has been a most…intense… meeting, and I believe that we should take our leave, with your approval.”

 

     The Governor began to move back toward the terrace.  “Yes, gentlemen.  This has certainly been a most amazing meeting.  Perhaps we shall be able to piece together the mystery of the deaths and how your First Officer has been led to believe that he is the Ambassador’s son.”

 

     Before he could speak, Kirk grabbed McCoy’s arm and hustled him toward the beam down point.  Spock’s raised eyebrow was his only response as he followed behind the Captain and Doctor.  Kirk’s final words just as the buzz of the transporter began were, “It has been a pleasure, Governor.  We will be in contact again, soon.”  The three men disappeared in the sparkling transporter beam.

 

     Once aboard the Enterprise, the Doctor rounded angrily on the Captain.  “Now, why the hell did you think you needed to grab me like that?  All I was going to do was…”

 

     Kirk held up his hand.  “Don’t tell me.  All you were going to do was cause an intergalactic incident.  You came close enough to angering the Governor once.  I didn’t want to try his patience a second time.  We have enough to concern ourselves with here.”  The two men turned their attention to the source of their concern.  “Spock, what do you think we should do first?  I’m giving this one over to you since I have little doubt you’ll want to find out what happened.”

 

     With his usual Vulcan aplomb firmly in place, Spock considered the question.  “I believe that my first move will be to contact my parents.  My Mother will no doubt be astonished to discover that she is ‘deceased’.”

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      

     The soft, incessant chime gradually roused Amanda from her sleep.  She glanced, bleary-eyed, at the chrono to discover it was only 0322 hours.  The alarm must have been set wrong.  If Sarek were at home, she wouldn’t have set it at all.  She tried the voice command, and then fumbled with the control a moment before realizing that the chime wasn’t coming from the chrono at all.  She rose quickly, threw on a robe, and made her way to the comm unit on the other side of the bedroom.  Touching the control pad, she checked the identity of the sender of such an early morning message…and froze.  There would be no reason for the Enterprise to be calling at this hour, unless something was seriously wrong.  With great trepidation, she opened the channel.

 

     “Oh, Spock!  I’m so glad it’s you!”

 

     Her son’s face remained impassive, but she could tell he was surprised by her outburst.  “Yes, I see.  I am pleased that…” He stopped short as he took in the sight of his Mother, in her robe, looking far more disheveled than he was used to.  “The time.  Mother, I apologize for calling at such an inappropriate time.  I shall call back later.”

 

     “No, don’t.  I can’t recall you ever misjudging the time difference, but don’t disconnect.  I’m awake now, although I’ll admit that just a few minutes ago, I was dead to the world.”

 

     Spock’s eyes widened at the remark.  “Strange that you should say that,” he quietly murmured, and then continued in a normal tone.  “May I ask you a question?  It is about one of Father’s diplomatic missions.  Is he there?”

 

     “No, your Father had a number of late night emergency calls to mediate between some newly joined Federation members; he’s at the Embassy.  He should be back tomm… this morning.  What is your question?”

 

     “Mother, what do you remember about the planet Medaris?”

 

     Amanda closed her eyes as she brought to the surface long-buried memories.  “Medaris.  Now, that is a planet I’ve not thought about in years, and for good reason.  It was an aesthetically beautiful place, but politically torn by their indecision about whether to join the Federation.  Is that where you are?”

 

     Spock nodded.  “Yes, we have been here for several days.  What can you recall about the meeting in the Assembly Hall?  It is most important that you leave no detail out.”

 

     “Spock, what’s going on?  First, you call me at this ungodly hour, and now you want to know details of a meeting that took place years ago!  What’s wrong?”  Amanda could tell her son was distressed over something, and she had a suspicion she knew what it was.  “Are you bothered by the explosion that took place at the Hall?  Yes, I was injured and it was disastrous in that three people lost their lives, but…”

 

     “Five.”

 

     “Pardon?”  Amanda could feel her impatience growing.  Being awakened from her slumber wasn’t helping matters.  “Spock, please, just start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on?”

 

     She watched him sigh and shift uncomfortably in his chair.  He finally decided to take the direct approach.  “According to the Medari government officials, we are dead.”

 

     Amanda stared at the screen, certain that she must be having a most peculiar dream.  She couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity of it all.  “Dead?  We, meaning you and me?  Dead?  Why would the Medari believe that we are dead?”  She leaned in somewhat toward the monitor screen as she observed her son’s obvious concern.  “Of course we’re alive.  I’m surprised that you would allow yourself to be so taken in by a simple error.”

 

     “Yes, I know.  Doctor McCoy voiced a similar opinion, but…”

 

     “Perhaps you should listen to the Doctor,” Amanda said, enjoying the flash of exasperation that crossed his face at the thought of concurring with the Doctor.  “What has caused you to discard logic and believe that we are dead?”

 

     “Mother, I know that we live, but the Medari have a casualty list and a recording of the events that took place before and after the explosion.  It is most…fascinating.  I am only attempting to clarify exactly what happened.”

 

     Watching her son’s face, she knew that he had been deeply shaken by the recording.  Whatever he saw, she felt that it was most important that she counter the obvious forgery.

 

     “Do you have a copy of this recording?  I’d like to see it in order to discount the events it supposedly captured.”

 

     Spock shook his head.  “No, the Medari Governor has been most cordial in stating that he will allow us access to all their information, but I have not received the recording or any other material yet.  Would you tell me what you remember about the meeting?”

 

     Amanda sighed.  When he wanted to, her son could have the most stubborn mindset.  There would be no rest until she answered his questions.  “Where do you want me to begin?”

 

    Spock considered the question.  Where, indeed?  “Why did you go with Father to Medaris in the first place?  You were still recovering from childbirth, and I was only 3 months, 16 days old.”

 

     He regretted his question immediately as he saw his Mother’s face cloud over.  She finally looked up with a slight, grim look on her face.  “Yes, I know.  I should have stayed home with you, but after months and months of being either homebound or hospitalized, I had a terrible case of cabin fever.  I had to get out and go somewhere.  According to initial reports, Medaris was a safe place to visit, even though it wasn’t a Federation member.  As soon as we had travel clearance, I was ready to go pretty much anywhere.  If your Father had any suspicion that there was danger, he never would have allowed us to go with him.”

 

     Spock nodded, knowing that his next question would likely cause her as much distress.  “What do you remember about the meeting, both before and after the explosion?  I would appreciate any detail that you can recall.”

 

     She paused as she remembered the preparation prior to the meeting.  “We were housed in a lovely villa with the most amazing view from the terrace.  It was like being surrounded by an abstract painting.  After I dressed, I dressed you in one of my favorite outfits…it was a chocolate brown jumper that matched your eyes…”

 

     “Mother, perhaps you do not have to go into every detail.”

 

     She smiled as his obvious discomfort.  Spock’s odd reluctance to admit that he had ever been a helpless infant always amused her.  “Very well, then: I’ll limit my recollections to what I consider to be the most important.  Once we arrived at the Great Hall, your Father naturally gravitated toward the most vocal discussion group arguing about the Federation.  Usually, I would have stayed by him, but I simply wasn’t in the mood for it.  You had fallen asleep on the way, and I walked away from the growing fracas, trying to find a quiet corner of the room to prevent you from waking.  I ended up near the front of the Hall, and that’s when Chen Li and Ursula Driscott spotted me.  They hadn’t seen me since before your birth and they were excited that we were there.  A Medari female joined us as we talked, and I had the impression that she also had a child.  I’m sorry, but I can’t recall her name.  They asked to see you, so I pulled back the blanket, and they carried on about how cute you were…sorry, but it was the truth, if I do say so myself…then, the Medari female said something about how children get into everything.  There was a flash of light, and it’s at that point that I have no further memory of the Hall.  When I regained consciousness, I was on our transport ship, the USS Ben Smith.”

 

     Spock said nothing as he analyzed his Mother’s words.  As far as he could tell, she had told him nothing of value…there was nothing that he couldn’t have gathered from the recording.  “What happened after you regained consciousness?”

 

     He was surprised by his Mother’s reaction.  She had closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were unusually bright.  “I woke up alone.  Completely alone.  The infirmary was deserted, and all I knew was that something dreadful had happened.  I had suffered some injuries and was in some pain, but nothing could prepare me for what I thought had happened.  I was panic-stricken as I thought the worst.  Fortunately, your Father came in at that point, carrying you in his arms.  I didn’t think that I would ever stop crying.”

 

     Spock raised an eyebrow as he reflected on his Mother’s words.  “I would think that you would be pleased that I was unharmed.  Why did you cry?”

 

     He watched in shock as several tears snaked down her face between her closed eyes.  “They were tears of joy, son.  I thought you were lost.  I nearly yanked you from your Father’s arms and quickly checked you from head to toe to make sure that you weren’t hurt.  All I could find was a couple of small abrasions on your face.  I have no explanation as to why we weren’t more seriously injured.”  Amanda wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she cleared her throat.  “There must be a reason, but I didn’t feel the need to examine it too closely.  I was just grateful for our lives.  It was truly a miracle.”

 

     Spock grimaced at his Mother’s choice of words.  “That is what I am trying to determine.  From what I have seen of the recorded information, we should have been at least critically injured.  Has Father ever mentioned any changes in us?  Perhaps some subtle differences from before and after the explosion?”

 

     “Changes?  Differences?”  Amanda furrowed her brow as she slowly shook her head.  “No.  The only difference was that after Medaris, we never took you to another planet that wasn’t a Federation member.”

 

     Her son sat quietly, contemplating their discussion.  “I shall consider what you have said, and if you would, please ask Father to contact me at his earliest convenience.”

 

     Amanda nodded, certain that she had failed to give him the answers that he had wanted to hear.  She struggled to regain a measure of composure.  “Yes, I shall tell him.  Take care.  If you should need anything, let us know.”  With those closing words, she ended their contact.  A strange thought occurred as she considered how the conversation had ended.  She and her son rarely had what she would consider a ‘happy’ conclusion when speaking.  Too often, an unexplained sense of discord clouded their words.  Why it was so, she couldn’t figure out.

 

     She sat at the console for several minutes as she fought to control her tears.  It had been such a long time since she had thought about Medaris.  As she prepared to go back to bed, she heard the outside door open.  She sat, quietly waiting, as Sarek entered the room, one eyebrow raised at the sight of his wife.

 

     “What is wrong?  Why are you crying?”  He moved toward her as she took in a deep breath and rose from the console.

 

     “Nothing is wrong, my Husband.  Your son called and had some questions for us about a diplomatic meeting.  Don’t worry…he’s already chastised himself for waking me.  Do you remember Medaris?”

 

     Sarek said nothing for several seconds, and then nodded.  “Yes, of course.  It would be difficult to envision a more disastrous end to a mission.  Why?”

 

     “The Enterprise is in orbit around Medaris, and Spock has discovered some very disturbing rumors about the Great Hall meeting.  He wants you to call at your earliest convenience.”  Amanda waited for her husband to nod, but he remained still.

 

     “I shall contact him.  As usual, Starfleet is interfering in matters that should be handled diplomatically.  I have one more contact that I must make before morning.  Please, go back to bed, and I shall wake you for first meal.”

 

     Amanda watched as her husband left their bedroom.  It was odd that he wouldn’t have taken care of the call unless the time difference was a factor.  There would be some logical reason for his seemingly premature departure from the Embassy.  She accepted her analysis of the situation and, drained by the conversation with her son, went back to bed.

 

     Once in his office, Sarek closed the door and went over to the comm unit.  It took several minutes, but soon the face of a Medari female was on the screen.  She spoke first.

 

     “Ambassador Sarek.  I have been expecting your call.”

 

     He nodded solemnly.  “Diplomat I’Ry’Da.  I believe we need to talk.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     True to his word, the Medari Governor allowed the Enterprise crew access to all the available information related to the bombing.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much more to add other than the originally seen recording, a few brief Medari news articles, and the transcript from the trial of the accused bombers.  After making his copies of the documents and recording, Spock received permission to work in his quarters.  It was pretty obvious to the Captain that his First Officer wasn’t going to be able to focus on any other situation until he solved the mystery of the Medaris death list.  There was no reason for Spock to be on the bridge, anyway.  Much to the Captain’s chagrin, Starfleet wanted them to stay put until a diplomatic ship arrived.  For the moment, there was nothing for them to do but orbit the planet and wait.

 

     Spock had assumed that once all the information was gathered and scrutinized, the truth would reveal itself.  Instead, he was viewing the recording for the fourteenth time…and was as perplexed as from the beginning.  No amount of analysis of before and after the bombing…frame-by- frame, blood splatter, direction of the blood flow, amount, size and shape of the blood present, wound pattern, debris pattern, changes in color or light, location of the bodies, possible alteration of the background…nothing was dissuading him from the Medari finding that there were five deaths.  If the recording was a computer-generated image, it was of a higher quality than anything he had ever seen.  A detailed analysis of the recording did not indicate any alterations or variations that would indicate manipulation or tampering.  The news reports were useless in that they simply said five persons died at the diplomatic meeting.

 

     The transcripts, although not terribly useful, did give an answer as to why the explosion had occurred when it did.  QUESTION:  ‘Why did you detonate the exploding devise when you did?’  ANSWER:  ‘We didn’t want to kill any Medari; however, we couldn’t believe our good fortune when the Federation Ambassador’s wife and child came within range.  There were two other Federation members there with some diplomatic ties, but it was really for the name recognition of having killed the Ambassador’s family.  It was quite a coup for us.’

 

     Spock leaned back in his chair and allowed himself an exasperated sigh.  Being surrounded by security in some form or fashion had always been a part of his life; ironically, it still was.  He could remember several threats being received by his parents when he was young and their constant reminders to be caution and aware of his surroundings.  It hadn’t helped that his Father was one of the most respected…and most vocal…defenders of the Federation.  With that recognition came the possibility of becoming a target.  The Medari bombers wanted to send a message to the Federation, and more pointedly, to the Ambassador and diplomats in attendance.  With that one blast, the bombers had won.  The Federation officials left, and Medaris remained out of the Federation.

 

     Spock needed to reexamine his original hypothesis.  If he and his Mother had actually been killed, then they must have been resuscitated; however, that did not match up with the blood evidence.  According to the recording, they had suffered mortal wounds.  According to his Mother, she had some minor injuries and he had a few abrasions on his face.  According to his Mother…

 

     Spock closed his eyes.  That was the crux of his dilemma.  Was it possible that the two individuals on the recording had actually died and were replaced in some way?  Perhaps they were an exact replication of the originals?  If so, then what could be the reason?  Or, had they simply been restored to life as had happened to Doctor McCoy on the Caretaker planet?  If his Mother had died, the Vulcan marital bond would have been severed.  There was no indication from her that at the time she awoke on the USS Ben Smith that the bond was dissolved or had been altered.  There were more questions than answers.  His Father would be able to fill in the details of the events directly after the explosion.  He needed to talk to his Father.

 

     As if on cue, the shrill whistle of an incoming call sounded.  He pressed several keys on the monitor and switched open the channel.  Lieutenant Uhura’s voice filled his quarters with her pleasant, melodious tone.  “Mr. Spock, I have a subspace message from Vulcan for you.  Do you wish me to patch it through to your quarters?”

 

     “Yes, Lieutenant, please do so.”

 

     The monitor cleared, and soon the strong, angular face of his Father appeared.  Before Spock could say a word, he spoke.  “What is the meaning of this?”

 

     Spock’s eyes widened slightly.  “Sir, what do you mean?”  Sarek’s tone was anything but conciliatory.

 

     “I arrived home this morning at 0358 hours to find your Mother crying by our bedroom monitor.  She said that you had called to ask a question.  I hope you received the answer that you sought.”

 

     “Father, I made an error…”

 

     “In telling time?” Sarek’s outraged baritone filled his son’s quarters.  “Is it not a requirement of Starfleet officers that they have the ability to tell time?  This is completely unacceptable.  There is no excuse for such illogical behavior.  Was the question that important that you could not wait a few hours to ask it?  And the question… The events of Medaris are recorded in the Federation archives.  Instead of waking your Mother with your question, you could have accessed the information from the archives…or have you also forgotten how to work a computer?”

 

     Spock forced himself to unclench his teeth as he did the only thing that he could think of that might diffuse the situation.  He lowered his head in deference to his Father.  “I beg forgiveness.  My actions have been most grievous to thee.”  With the formal words said, he waited for the expected acceptance of his response.  It was not forthcoming.

 

     “It is not I that you need to apologize to.  I was not awakened.  Answers about what occurred on Medaris are available during waking hours.  My suggestion is that you research your questions more carefully.  Crazed statements about your supposed death and that of your Mother may lead me to contact Starfleet’s medical personnel with my own questions.  Is that understood?”

 

     Spock sat unblinking, watching his Father’s face.  Was he actually threatening him?  “Yes, sir, I understand.  I shall be more careful about what questions I ask…and of whom I ask them.”

 

     “Yes.  I hope we understand one another in this matter.  I shall take my leave of you now.  Heed my words.”  Without another word, the communications link was cut.

 

     Spock remained still and then calmly turned off the monitor.  Realizing that he had been holding his breath, he slowly exhaled.  It wasn’t that he didn’t understand his Father’s methodology when it came to intimidation.  He had seen it used often enough, usually on recalcitrant Federation members.  It was just that no matter how often he had seen the technique used on others, he had always made it a point to personally stay out of the line of fire.  What used to be devastating to him in the past was now infuriating.

 

     His questions would remain unanswered.  The formal request for forgiveness had been denied.  Formalities in general had been ignored.  Could his Father actually be angry?  No, of course not.  Yet, the implied threat had been an unusual twist.  Was he telling him to stop investigating the Assembly Hall meeting altogether?  What had just happened?  It was certainly a most unexpected turn of events.  Spock pondered the change in the investigation now that he would have no assistance from his Father, and he had the distinct impression that if he tried, he would not be able to contact his Mother again, either.  If only she had been more helpful with her reminiscence.  He shook his head as he recalled her frivolous mention of the jumper.

 

     He slowly took in a breath.  The chocolate brown jumper.  “Computer, play the Assembly Hall meeting.  Isolate those Medari wearing colors other than the traditional Medari green.”

 

     The computer instantly scanned the information.  “There are three Medari wearing colors other than Medari green.”

 

     “Show them.”

 

     The first was a female near the back of the hall.  Her outfit was made of a bright orange material.  The second was another female near a vocal group of Medari and Federation delegates.  That group included his Father.  She wore a bright pink gown.  He knew what the third Medari would be wearing and where she was.  He nodded in confirmation as the third Medari was shown, wearing a blue dress, standing in the group with his mother.  The colors…they were the same as the foliage that covered the planet.  What could be the significance?  He called up to the bridge.

 

     “Kirk here.  Well, Spock, do you have the answer to your question yet?”

 

     “No, Captain, not yet.  Will we have any further contact with the Medari prior to the arrival of the diplomatic ship?  I have some questions for the Governor.”

 

     “I don’t believe we have another scheduled meeting with the Governor.  I’ll check to see if we can contact him.   Oh, by the way, the USS Suhl should be here in a couple of hours.  We’ll finally be able to get back to work.”  Kirk was surprised by the almost sullen reply.

 

     “Yes, Captain.  That would be most welcome.  Spock out.”

 

     The time factor was now a pressing concern.  Could he discover what had happened at the meeting before they warped out of orbit?  There were simply too many unanswered questions.  Closing his eyes, he listened to the constant yet almost silent hum of the ship.

 

     He understood what his Mother meant about being completely alone.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     As Sarek opened the door to his office, his wife barred his exit as she stood just outside the room.  He raised an eyebrow at her.

 

     “My wife, I thought you were asleep.”

 

     She stood as if a statue, unable to move, her voice barely audible.  “Sarek, how did you know what Spock said about our supposed deaths?  I only said that he had heard a rumor.  I offered no details.”

 

     He tried to move past her, but she stood her ground.  “Amanda, I have heard the same rumors about the number of fatalities.  That could be the only explanation when you said ‘rumors’.  There is nothing more to it.  You should return to bed.”

 

     “Then, why were you berating our son?  Don’t tell me you weren’t…I heard you clearly.  There is more to this Medaris situation than meets the eye, isn’t there?  I want you to tell me what’s going on!”

 

     Sarek looked down at his fuming wife.  He wanted to explain his actions, but he couldn’t.  “Listening in on another’s conversation is most undignified.  I am surprised by your actions.”

 

     Sarek waited for her expected heated response.  He was disappointed.  “Don’t try to change the subject.  I could hear you yelling from the bedroom.”

 

     Once again, he tried to pass, but was prevented.  In a soft tone, he spoke to his angry wife.  “Amanda, all will be revealed in time.  It is apparently inevitable due to our son’s involvement.  You must believe me when I say that I cannot speak of it yet.  Not yet.”

 

     She continued to stand in the doorway, but then moved aside as she felt the tremendous weight of his unnamed burden surround them through their bond.  As he moved past her, she could sense more than ever before his fervent wish that he could discuss whatever was disturbing him.  But, he needed time.  She would have to wait.  Of greater concern was the almost imperceptible sensation of something…some flash of emotion that she could sense and that took her awhile to isolate and identify.  Once she did, her concern for both her husband and son escalated.

 

     The sensation was fear.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     There were actually quite a few things in the universe that could put Doctor McCoy in a bad mood.  One of the most current was Jim letting Spock play detective to solve a mystery that really wasn’t a mystery at all.  At least it wasn’t to the Doctor.  Sure, the Medari had a nifty little recording, but so what.  Any fool with a recorder and time to kill could manipulate a recording any way they wanted to.  As he sat scowling at his latest medical report, the sickbay doors opened with a whoosh.  Looking up, he could clearly see who was heading toward him.  The Doctor gave the visitor a withered look and pointed toward the door.

 

     “It’s down the hall.”

 

     “What is, Doctor?”  Spock raised an eyebrow at McCoy’s strange outburst.

 

     “The morgue.  I guess you’re still checking into your death and all.  Just thought I’d help out.”  He watched as Spock stopped and very slowly straightened.

 

     “If I am dead, Doctor, and you are here, then I must have led a most debauched life.”

He turned and walked stiffly out of sickbay.

 

     “Hey now, wait just a damned minute!”  McCoy yelled a fraction too late.  The doors had already shut.  He sat grumbling at his desk for a few seconds before angrily pushing his chair back in order to stand.  “Well, hell.”  He moved quickly out of sickbay and caught up with Spock just before he entered the turbo lift.  “Wait!”  Spock’s quick whirl caught McCoy off guard and he nearly crashed into the Vulcan.

 

     “Why should I wait, Doctor?  Perhaps you are also planning to write my eulogy?  I had some questions for you, but I can see that you are preoccupied.”  He started to move toward the turbo lift, but McCoy blocked his way.

 

     “Spock, wait a minute.  I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.  I’m just peeved that Jim gave you permission to investigate this whole crazy thing in the first place.  I should have at least asked you why you came to sickbay.”

 

     “Indeed, Doctor.  I could be deathly ill.”

 

     McCoy raised his own eyebrow at that remark and shook his head.  “Well, then.  If that’s the case, then maybe I need to move up your annual physical; or, at the very least, insist on an office visit.  If you want, we can go back to my office and talk.  I’ll try to contain my remarks about Medaris.”

 

     “That would be acceptable, Doctor.”

 

     They walked back to sickbay, occasionally casting a wary look at each other, and settled in the doctor’s office.  Once again in his chair behind his desk, McCoy leaned back and shrugged slightly.  “Alright, what do you want to know?”

 

     “Doctor, you were married at one time and have a daughter, correct?”  McCoy’s face darkened at the unexpected query.

 

     “Yes, but what does this have to do with your situation?”  McCoy noticed an almost imperceptible change in the set of Spock’s jaw-line that indicated something wasn’t right.  “What’s wrong?  You look kind of upset for someone who never gets upset.”

 

     “I am not upset.  It is nothing, Doctor.  I was just considering the odds of disturbing my parents and you within such a limited time frame.  I believe that I am ‘on a roll’, if that is the correct expression.”

 

     McCoy agreed with the slight nod of his head.  “Yeah, you might be on a bit of a roll, but I just wasn’t expecting that particular question.  Why in the world do you want to know about my ex-wife and daughter?”

 

     “I need to know what you remember about your daughter’s development from when she was between three and four months old.”  Spock leaned forward, as if the answer were going to spring from the Doctor’s mouth.  McCoy put an elbow on his desk and placed his hand to his face as he began to rub a point between his eyebrows.

 

     “I’ve had you ask me some strange questions before, Spock, but this one takes the cake.  Why do you want to know?”

 

     “I have been attempting to discover a reference point, both before and after the explosion on Medaris, in order to verify that my memories are consistent.  I have not been successful, so far.  I have read about the average development in both Human and Vulcan infants and…”

 

     “I hate to ask this, but what are you doing?  Are you actually telling me that you are trying to remember two distinct memories that took place when you were three months old?  Can you do that?”

 

     “Yes.  I believe I can.”

 

     McCoy rolled his eyes.  “Why am I not surprised,” he muttered under his breath.  “So, if you already have read up on this subject, why do you want my input?”

 

     Spock seemed for the moment to be lost in thought, but then turned his intense focus back on the Doctor.  “I have tried to remember a particular moment that my Mother mentioned from when she regained consciousness on board the UCC Ben Smith, but I have been unsuccessful.  There is the possibility that I have made an error in the amount and detail of information that an infant can recall; therefore, I hope that you can assist me.”

 

     “What was that moment?”

 

     “Mother stated that when she regained consciousness in the infirmary, she panicked when she realized she was alone.  I was trying to isolate that memory in my own mind:  I should have been affected by her concern in some way.  Although my telepathic abilities would have been undeveloped, I should still have had some indication of distress.  So far, I have not been able to isolate that moment.”

 

     McCoy shook his head and spoke in the soft tone he generally reserved for bad news.  “God, Spock…that moment must have been hell for your Mother.  I couldn’t imagine if I were out somewhere with Joanna in my arms, and then the next moment I remember, I’m somewhere alone.  I’m sure that would have been a highly emotional time, but I don’t think an infant would have noticed.”

 

     Spock once again leaned in slightly.  “Why, Doctor?  I need to know.”

 

     The Doctor smiled, amused by Spock’s intensity.  “Because most infants at that point in time are not interested in what others are feeling.  Yes, empathy is developed early, but I don’t believe that even the most sensitive infant would be moved by what its parent was going through.  You’re thinking too much like an adult.”

 

     “Then, what should I focus on?”

 

     McCoy sighed heavily.  “I don’t personally remember being 3 months old, but I know that Joanna seemed to be interested in only 3 things:  eating, being changed, and being held.  I don’t know about Vulcan infants, but I would assume that the same applies.”

 

     “Eating, being changed, and being held.  I see.  Thank you, Doctor.”  Spock stood up and began to leave sickbay.  McCoy stopped him just before he reached the door.

 

     “Spock?”

 

     “Yes, Doctor?”

 

     “Good luck with the whole inner child thing.  And, by the way, if you’re going to tell someone to go to hell, just tell them to go to hell.”

 

     Spock put on his most innocent look.  “I would never say such a thing, Doctor.”

 

     As the sickbay doors closed, McCoy shook his head and grinned.  “Yeah, right.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Amanda forced back her own fears as she stood in the hallway by her husband’s office.  Should she try to contact Spock?  What could she tell him if she didn’t understand Sarek’s worrisome state herself?  She knew one thing for certain; she couldn’t just sit around and wait.  Going into the office, she turned on the monitor.  After a few seconds, the face of a young Vulcan woman Amanda didn’t recognize appeared.  The raven-haired woman appeared to be momentarily taken aback at the sight of a human female on the screen instead of the Ambassador.

 

     “May I…assist you?”  Her Standard was shaky at best.

 

     “Afer-tor du ne-stukh-sviribaya glantokau-yut Enterprise.”

 

     The woman eyes widened slightly as she nodded.  “Ha osu.”

 

     Amanda nodded once as she prepared to close the communications link.  “Nash-veh odu itaren.”  With the link closed, she leaned back in her Husband’s chair and ruefully gazed at the blank monitor.  After spending over forty years on Vulcan, she was still bemused by the fact that there were Vulcans who couldn’t believe a human could speak their language.  She was fluent, but still couldn’t wipe the ‘Earth’ accent from her voice.

 

    It had been one of Sarek’s greatest concerns that Spock be able to speak his native language without his Mother’s ‘peculiar’ dialect.  The child would have enough to deal with.  They had compromised: She spoke only Federation Standard to him and Sarek spoke only Vulcan.  It was the best way for their son to learn both languages, anyway.  Spock might not admit it, but Amanda knew that he tended to ‘Vulcanize’ his Standard to match his Father’s.  It scarcely mattered since his Standard was still much better than Sarek’s, but really…her son could use contractions if he wanted to.  Amanda sighed. 

 

     The subspace channel would be reestablished with the Enterprise and she would give Spock a vague warning, unless she could convince Sarek to open up and tell her what was wrong.  The monitor was stubbornly silent.  Waiting for a channel to open could take minutes or hours, depending on possible interference, distance and any number of other factors.  It was illogical to sit there and wait.  She checked to make sure the audio alert was activated, and left the office. 

 

     Moving through the house, Amanda made her way to where she suspected her husband had retreated.  He sat quietly in his most favored chair in the main living room, eyes closed, apparently deep in meditation.  Her loud sigh didn’t stir him from his trance.  She took a seat opposite him and closed her own eyes.  There was certainly a great deal to meditate on, and with meditation comes clarity and understanding.  At least, that’s supposed to be the case.  If she could organize her thoughts, perhaps she could determine a better course of action than just sitting there as her son got into a situation on Medaris that could be dangerous.

 

     As she thought once again about the absurd statement Spock had made about their deaths, she began to wonder if maybe she should re-examine a few memories just to verify a consistency between before and after the blast.  As far as she could tell, Sarek and her son were the same.  Even those Vulcans she was well acquainted with were the same from the time they left Vulcan until they returned from Medaris.  If there had been some differences in either of them, they would have been the ones to comment.

 

     Her memories before Medaris were well established in her mind.  It was shortly after their son’s birth.  She couldn’t help but smile as she thought about what had happened when she had gone into labor.  Now it was humorous, but at the time…

 

     Sarek was his usual calm self, but she was certain that he had made a ‘panicked father’ mistake as he passed the hospital.  He had said that his son would be born in the traditional way as had generations of his House and Clan before him.  Amanda had foolishly believed that involved a hospital.  When she saw the location he truly meant, she exploded. 

 

     “Sarek, this is not traditional…this is barbaric!  It’s time to start a new tradition.  It’s called having children in a hospital, and I would highly recommend that the new tradition start RIGHT NOW!”  

 

     Of course, after a lot of tears on her part and much reassurance that there was a Healer nearby and that she and the baby would be carefully monitored, she had acquiesced.  No wonder Vulcan labor is usually so short, she had thought at the time.  The women are made so uncomfortable that they would do anything to get it over with quickly.

 

     After Medaris… Yes, she remembered the events after waking on the USS Ben Smith.  Those memories were bittersweet at best and involved a lot of events that she would have preferred to forget.

 

     After a few days of the required testing and treatment, she had finally been able to leave the infirmary.  One of her stops after first returning to their cramped cabin had been to the observation port.  While the ship had its share of basic comforts, it was too claustrophobic for her tastes.  The view from the ship wasn’t nearly as spectacular as she had hoped…the room the port was in was quite small and only allowed a couple of people at a time an adequate view.  Sarek was deeply involved in helping the prosecution of the Medari bombers and had nearly overrun their tiny cabin with documents of the upcoming trial.  He had verified three times before she left exactly where she and his son were going.  Looking out the port at the streaming stars, a rather course voice interrupted her viewing.

 

     “Hey, can we…OH!  You have a baby!”  The two older crewwomen sidled up to her to look at the babe.  One of the women sharply looked up at Amanda and frowned as she spoke.  “He looks kind of pale.  And…does he have something wrong with his ears?”

 

     Amanda had an almost dread sense for what was about to happen, but surely not…  “No, his ears and coloring are fine.  His father is Vulcan, and I am his Mother.”

 

     The two women pulled back as though she had suddenly grown a second head.  Without another word, they turned and quickly retreated; however, before the observatory door closed, she plainly heard the voice of the woman who had just conversed with her seconds before.  “That’s absolutely disgusting.”

 

     Amanda gasped.  WHAT?  What did she say?  She wanted to chase her down and tell her exactly how wrong she was, but… Was that really what people thought?  How could her relationship with Sarek be disgusting?  How could a child be disgusting?  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.  How dare they.  Her son meant everything to her.  They didn’t have a clue about what the two of them had just gone through.  Not that it would have concerned them.

 

     At a sudden stirring, she looked down at her now awake child.  His bright eyes searched her face, and suddenly he gave her the half-crooked grin that he had just learned a few days earlier.  She looked up quickly as the stars in the portal blurred in front of her.  She had wanted to tell Sarek about the smile, but in his current state of mind, he would probably have disapproved.  Hugging her boy closer, she stared out the ship’s portal window.

 

     “What must we look like to the outside world?  A crazy, naïve Earth woman with a half-Human, half-Vulcan baby.  I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but…” She bent down and gave her son a kiss on the forehead.  “Let’s keep that little smile thing to ourselves for a few days, OK?  No sense in upsetting your Father.  Just remember that no matter what they say, I’ll always love you and will do everything I can to protect you.”

 

     ** Amanda, what are you thinking about? **

 

     Shaken from her reverie, she forced the memories from her mind before responding.  “I thought you didn’t like eavesdroppers?” she said, trying to keep from revealing too much.

 

     Amanda opened her eyes and a solemn look swiftly replaced the momentary humor.  “If our son is in danger, you have to warn him.  If there is some reason that you can’t, then tell me what you can, and I’ll warn him.  I’ve requested a subspace channel to the Enterprise.”

 

     Sarek remained quiet, an almost silent sigh his only response.  As he stood, he motioned for her to join him.  “Come with me to my office.”

 

     As they walked, she tried to read him through their link, but he had placed up his most impenetrable shields.  Her spirits fell.  So, what was she to make of this troubling development of keeping secrets?

 

     Inside his office, Sarek pulled another chair over to his desk for his wife.  She sat down cautiously, unsure of why she felt so nervous.  Once he had settled into his chair, Sarek stared for a few moments at the monitor.  Glancing over at her, he pressed a few keys on the monitor pad.  His voice, when he spoke, was unusually restrained.

 

     “I have carefully considered what we should do about Spock’s situation on Medaris.  Without the proper context, however, you will not understand.  A Medari official has sent me the recording of the Assembly Hall meeting.  I cannot speak of it, but it is time for you to see it.”  Sarek searched his wife’s face for some indication of her emotional state, but she only nodded, even as she pondered Sarek’s strange phraseology.

 

     “It’s about time.  I need to see this in order to clear up the obvious mistake that’s been made.”

 

     Without another word, the recording started.  Amanda carefully scrutinized the recording and couldn’t help but marvel at just how youthful everyone looked.  Most of the Federation members she recognized.  As the recording progressed, the screen filled with the image of the group she had been with.  A slight smile crossed her face as she saw herself holding her son.  ‘Was I really that young?’ crossed her mind.  But, she braced herself for what was coming.  Too soon, the bright shock of light penetrated the room, and the screen went white.  Wincing, she continued to watch as the angle of the recording showed the devastation caused…and then the bodies.  She leaned back abruptly, pressing herself into the chair.

 

     “What was that?”  She wasn’t certain that she audibly spoke.  Swallowing hard to clear her suddenly tight vocal cords, Amanda was barely able to speak over a whisper. “That was horrible!  Why would the Medari change the recording in such a way?  Why would they change it so that we died?”

 

     Sarek sat ramrod straight in his chair as he stared straight ahead into the now blank screen.  His words were calm and precise.  “Amanda, the recording has not been tampered with.  It is authentic.  You died on Medaris, as did our son.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Spock sat motionless as he sought an inner calm, his dimly illuminated quarters lit only with a few small votive candles.  There was certainly a great deal to meditate on, and with meditation comes clarity and understanding.  At least, that is supposed to be the case.  So far, the required level of relaxation had eluded him.  Part of the problem with memories at such an early age was the lack of cognitive and language skills.  The memories were there, but they had to be carefully extracted from the immature thoughts, tactile imprints and emotions of an infant.  Only once before had he delved into that morass of jumbled, irrational thoughts, and that had been due to a required element of memory edification for all Vulcans.

 

     He clearly remembered the Savensu’s words as his class prepared for the assignment.  “For once, do not focus on the logical.  The reason for this assignment is to understand your very existence and to move on a path that will illuminate your way from your most base beginning.  The moment of birth is the moment your journey begins into what you will become.”

 

     As the other students recalled the first words of their parents, Spock had tried in vain to slump deeper into his seat.  Perhaps he would be overlooked, but the moment came, and he reluctantly revealed what he remembered.  The almost haughty words of the instructor still stung, even 35.62 years later.  “I am not surprised that the first words you would hear are ‘So Human’,” the instructor intoned as the class glared at the half-Human in their midst.  “It is not surprising at all.”

 

     After the 18-year rift between he and his Father had been mended, Spock had come to a startling realization about his parents.  Although Sarek was Vulcan, he was more open with him than his Mother was in many respects.  It was during their stay on the Enterprise that the surprising reality of that occurred to him.  Whenever he was around his Mother, she shielded her thoughts.  Every time.  Of course, his Father’s thoughts were more controlled and orderly, but Sarek rarely shielded from him unless there was a logical reason to do so.  The distance that he felt whenever he was in his Mother’s presence was disturbing to him.  Of greater dismay was the recognition that the shielding had always been present.  He hadn’t noticed it until he had examined the situation while in meditation.  What did his Mother hope to accomplish by blocking her thoughts from him?  The sense of rejection was, at times, crushing.  Was the shielding used to hide her disappointment in him?

 

     Spock sighed deeply, and tried yet again to focus his attention on the daunting task, but at that moment the door chime sounded.  With a slight sense of relief, he said, “Come.”

 

     Jim Kirk, framed by the doorway and backlit by the corridor light, squinted as he looked into the First Officer’s quarters.  “Spock, are you in there?  Sorry for the intrusion.”

 

     “Lights.”  Spock’s voice echoed through the room as the lights came on instantly.  Kirk winced at the sudden brightness, but quickly adjusted.  As he stood, the Vulcan motioned for the Captain to enter.  “Come in, Jim.  I…expected your visit.”

 

     As he entered the room, Kirk noticed the candles burning and his First Officer wearing what he assumed was some type of traditional Vulcan robe.  He couldn’t recall Spock ever wearing anything like it before.  “I hope I’m not interrupting.  Bones filled me in on the memory situation, and I just wanted to see how things were going.”  As he sat down, Kirk watched as his friend moved another chair from across the room in order to join him.  Spock began to somberly speak as he took his place.

 

     “Jim, I realize that I have been remiss in my duties, and…”

 

     With a quick shake of his head, Kirk interrupted. “No, I was the one who authorized you to work on this ‘death list’ situation.  Mr. Chekov has everything well in hand at the Science station, and until the Suhl arrives, there’s very little for us to do.  I’m fed up with Starfleet using us as a diplomatic contact and shuttle service, especially in previously hostile environments.”

 

     “Indeed,” Spock agreed as he nodded imperceptibly. “My Father has voiced similar concerns over the Federation’s use of Starfleet personnel as an initial contact or as part of an ongoing diplomatic effort.”

 

     “It would make sense to have the Diplomatic Corps as the contact to either establish or re-establish relations, but then again, we are talking about Federation bureaucrats.”  Kirk leaned back in the chair and scrutinized his First Officer’s apparel.  “What’s the significance of the robe?  Some type of meditation aid?”

 

     Spock glanced down at the dark Vulcan clothing.  “The pelal is not necessary for meditation.  It is only one part of the preparation.  At this point, I am puzzled by my inability to successful ascertain any pertinent information.  The last time I was required to reconstruct a memory from that time period has apparently caused a rather strong aversion response that is diminishing my ability of recall.  It is with some relief that I do remember that earlier moment, but I would prefer to have another recollection closer to the events that occurred at the Assembly Hall meeting.  I believe that the memories are there, but I am apparently at a loss to properly locate them.”

 

     “I wish I could offer you some advice, but I’m still amazed that you’re trying to remember something from your infancy in the first place.  Did Bones give you anything helpful?” Kirk asked, wishing he could have seen the look on the Doctor’s face as Spock calmly asked him about infant memories.

 

     Spock slightly raised one eyebrow.  “Actually, the Doctor was most helpful in provided me with a possible moment to examine.  He stated that infants are interested in only three things:  eating, being changed, and being held.  I have estimated the time between the explosion on Medaris and the time that my Mother awoke in the infirmary as between 7 ½ to 8 hours.  The average Human and Vulcan infant between 3 and 4 months old requires sustenance every 4 to 5 hours, so I should have been experiencing some hunger pangs.”

 

     Jim frowned slightly.  “But, couldn’t your Father or someone else have fed you?”  As soon as he asked the question, he realized why.  Spock’s look was of someone who would have preferred to be anywhere else, but his eyes showed a hint of amusement.

 

     “I thought of that possibility.  Since being bottle fed would have been a unique experience, it may also be the memory that I seek.”

 

     Wanting desperately to change the subject, Jim cleared his throat.  “Well, um, good luck with that.  Tell me, what information do you have about the Medari factions from that time period?”

 

     Eager to also change the subject, Spock answered. “There were a number of different groups of Medari with vastly differing views on membership.  The three main groups were divided into those who wanted admission, those who wanted only limited contact, and those who wanted no part of the Federation.  The Medari bombers were a fringe element of the last group.  They stated that they feared the Federation would exploit the valuable resources of the planet; however, numerous scans of Medaris have revealed only scant mineral deposits and certainly nothing that would be of sufficient worth to the Federation.”

 

     “Then, why did they feel so strongly about it that they targeted the meeting?  Maybe they value some other resource that we don’t consider too important?”

 

     “Perhaps.  I noticed during my examination of the recording that three Medari females were wearing clothing colors that were an exception to the anticipated Medari green.  Such a difference would tend to indicate a differing rank, or maybe an honor.  Without further information, I can only offer conjecture.  That is why I asked if we were to meet with the Medari Governor again.”

 

     Kirk grimaced.  “Yes, well, Uhura has been trying to get back in contact with the Medari government, but has had no luck so far.  I don’t know why they’ve suddenly decided to clam up, but we’ll keep trying.  Also, just before coming down here, the Suhl contacted us to let us know she’s running a little behind schedule.  She should be here in a few hours, so you’ll have a little more time.”

 

     Spock nodded as he stood.  “That is welcome news, Jim.  I believe that I will be able to discover the truth behind the recording and the list, given the additional time.  At least, I will attempt to do so.”

 

     Kirk grinned and made his way to the door.  “Well, it’s certainly a mystery worth solving, even if it proves to be nothing more than an elaborate ruse.  I personally wouldn’t want to be on some planet’s death list, although there’s a fairly strong probability that I am on one somewhere.”

 

    Spock’s raised eyebrow accompanied his answer.  “Indeed, Jim.  Your reputation precedes you.  If you would, let me know as soon as contact is made once again with Medaris.”

 

     Jim Kirk exited the room, and turned back with a nod.  “Certainly.  And good luck, once again.”  The door whooshed shut, and Spock was once again alone to try to discover something…anything…about his past memories of Medaris.

 

     “Lights off.”

 

     In the darkness, he focused more intently than before…back…back into the past.  He was fortunate in that he had experienced hunger only once as a child, and that had been during his kahs-wan; unless he had experienced it earlier, and simply hadn’t the inclination to examine it prior to now.  He worked his way back…past the hunger of the kahs-wan…further…further…

 

     He gasped in surprise as a wave of pain hit him.  The pain was focused in his abdomen and seemed to engulf him.  The strong emotions struck from every angle ---NOW…NOW…oh, where is she…NOW…she’s gone…WHY…Why?…Help…I’m dying…So hungry…NOW…NOW…

 

     An object was forced into his mouth, but it was wrong.  It was cool, which was good, but it was wrong.  WRONG!!!  NO…(gagging)…(gagging)…help…where is she…

 

     Words…focus on the words --- Standard ---He…won’t…take…it…now…what?…HELP!!!…I’m dying…NOW…NOW…where is she?

 

     Words…Vulcan…tranush, sa-fu…tranush, sa-fu…NO…NO…HELP…patience…NO patience…HELP…

 

     The tactile indication of being lifted occurred, which was similar to the transporter beam.  Focus…the warmth was the same.  It was his Father.  A breeze touched his face as he felt forward motion.  Moving…where?  The waves of hunger continued, but startled by the sudden movement, he couldn’t concentrate.  Sounds…the opening of a door…then…

 

     That voice…he knew that voice…Focus…Standard---Is…he…alright?…Oh…Sarek…I…was…so…scared…YES…NOW…NOW…I’m dying…so hungry…

 

     Instead, he felt a cool airy sensation strike from every angle.  NO!…SO hungry…

 

     The cool air caused him to gasp once again.  He felt his arms and legs moved by the cool hands of his mother and he was rolled over.  WHY?…SO hungry…NOW…NOW…

 

     A sound…like a bell…laughter…words…Standard--- Oh…my…you…must…be…so…hungry…

 

     YES…YES…a comfortable settling occurred, and finally he was satisfied….

 

      Pulling back from the past, Spock was stunned by the intensity of the emotions.  Were infants truly that demanding?  Was he really that undisciplined?  Of course, it was very likely, but still…  The realization of that moment on the USS Ben Smith was a relief.  He had been there.  But now, the more difficult memory remained.  Prior to the explosion, he was still not certain what to focus on. 

 

     His research revealed that his parents had arrived 2 days prior to the meeting.  His Father had been negotiating with the Medari Governor and his officials nearly non-stop, and his Mother had stayed fairly ensconced in the villa.  The villa…

 

     Spock allowed a slight smile.  Was it possible that his Mother had given him another clue?  ‘We were housed in a lovely villa with the most amazing view from the terrace’.  If she held him…

 

     He reached back once again…remember the colors…the colors…back…further…

 

     Suddenly, the bright kaleidoscope of waving colors presented themselves…magenta…tangerine…navy blue…moving and changing…mesmerizing…and the words…Standard…and Vulcan? ---Look…taluhk…look…at…the…pretty…colors.

 

     Yes, he had been there.  So, he had the memories of before and after the explosion.  It still wasn’t absolute proof that he was not changed in some way, but it was a relief to find those memories intact.

 

     As he rose from the meditative state, he was alarmed to discover a strange vibration in the ship…a low, bass sound that seemed to reverberate through his room.  Springing up, he pounded the intercom button.

 

     “Spock to Engineering.  Mr. Scott, is there a problem with the engines?”

 

     It seemed like an eternity until the Scotsman’s voice answered.  “Nae, sair.  No problems at ‘tall.  Why, sair?”

 

     Spock could still feel the vibration, but it seemed to be fading.  “I felt an alteration in the expected equilibrium of the ship.  If you would, do a diagnostic on the main engines to verify no damage or possible breach.”

 

     “Sair, a complete diagnostic?  That could take hours!”

 

     “The sooner you begin, the sooner the diagnostic will be completed.  I still feel an odd trembling that could be an indication of a potentially dangerous situation.”

 

     “Aye, sair,” the confused man replied, “I don’ feel it, but if ye say so, then we’ll run th’ diagnostic.”

 

     “Thank you, Mr. Scott.”  Turning off the intercom, Spock wondered about the fact that the Chief Engineer hadn’t noticed the difference in the feel of the ship.  Perhaps one had to be somewhat removed from the Engineering Department to feel it.  With the strange sensation now gone, Spock began to wonder if he had felt it at all.  Was it some after effect of the meditation?  He closed his eyes, exhausted.  The day was still early, and all he could think about was sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “Mr. Scott to th’ Bridge.”

 

     Captain Kirk glanced over at the Doctor, who was standing to the Captain’s left near the command chair.  After his bizarre visit from Spock, McCoy had decided he’d had enough of Sickbay for a while and had come up to the Bridge.  With a slightly surprised expression, Kirk pressed the comm button.

 

     “Kirk here.  What is it, Scotty?”

 

     “Well, sair.  I was wonderin’ if Mr. Spock was on his way to supervise th’ diagnostic.  We haven’ taken th’ warp core offline yet…”

 

     Kirk expression changed to shock.  “Diagnostic?  What diagnostic?”

 

     Scotty’s response was somewhat sheepish.  “Well, sair, I thought ye knew.  Mr. Spock called down here an’ sounded most concerned about th’ engines.  He said he felt a vibration, but I dinna feel a thing.  He requested we do a full diagnostic.  I’m assumin’ he meant a Level 1.”

 

     Strumming his fingers on the chair’s arm, Kirk felt a growing exasperation with the bewildering action of his First Officer.  “Belay that order, Mr. Scott.  I’ll let you know if and when to continue.”

 

     “Aye, sair.”

 

     With the channel cleared, he slammed his hand down on the comm button.

 

     “Bridge to Mr. Spock.”

 

     The delay was several seconds longer than Kirk was used to from the Vulcan, but finally there was a response.

 

     “Spock here.”

 

     Kirk looked over at McCoy, whose expression was one of sheer amazement.  The Captain’s voice was level with just a touch of an edge to it.

 

     “Mr. Spock.  May I ask why you ordered a Level 1 diagnostic on the engines?  Mr. Scott said that you felt a vibration.  Could you please fill the rest of us in on what you felt, because we have had no other reports.”

 

     Once again, there was a delay in the response.  “Captain, I am only concerned about the safety of the ship.  There was a disturbance, but I am unable to explain why I was the only one affected.”

 

     Something in his voice caused a pause in Kirk’s aggravation.  Not certain what it was and ignoring McCoy, who was silently mouthing the word ‘Sickbay’, Kirk stood.  “Spock, meet me in Engineering.  I’d like to check into this ‘disturbance’.  Mr. Sulu, you have the Bridge.” Making his way to the turbo lift doors, the Captain gave McCoy a knowing look.  “Let me guess.  You just happen to be urgently needed in Engineering.”

 

     McCoy returned the look.  “Yeah, actually I think there are a few engineers down there that are hiding out…they’re no doubt due for their physicals.  I’ll just go along and give them a friendly reminder.”

 

     Once in Engineering, Kirk strode across the deck to find Scotty.  Mr. Scott was in his glory supervising some newly assigned ensigns, fresh out of the Academy.

 

     “Aye, check it again!  Ye always double-check yer calibrations!  Ah, Captain, Doctor.”  Scott stepped over to join Kirk and McCoy.  “Glad ye’re here, sair.  I’m sorry about…”

 

     Kirk shook his head, and slightly raised his right hand.  “No, no, Scotty.  Don’t apologize.  I’m just here to get an explanation from Spock.  Maybe once he clarifies this ‘disturbance’, I’ll be able to determine a course of action.  You are positive that there have been no problems here?”

 

     Scotty nodded emphatically.  “Aye, sair.  I trust Mr. Spock’s judgment, but there hadna’ been as much as th’ slightest variation in any o’ th’ fields.  I dinna understand it, sair.”

 

     “I know.  I don’t understand it, either.”  That was the problem, he thought suddenly.  Spock was, if anything, dependable to a fault.  Was it possible that he was having some kind of mental reaction to the entire Medaris situation that was impacting his duties to the ship?  The slight hesitation he had heard…was it doubt?  Jim knew he had given his friend a free reign in terms of doing what was necessary to discover the truth about the death list, but maybe it was just too much, even for him.  Maybe it was time to call the whole thing off.

 

     “Jim.”  Kirk looked over at McCoy, who had tilted his head toward the door to Engineering.  Spock had just entered and was heading in their direction.  As soon as he saw him, Jim Kirk knew his decision had pretty much been determined.  Spock looked unusually distracted and, although it wouldn’t seem that way to most, he also appeared exhausted.

 

     “Captain, I apologize for my action.  I cannot explain why I was the only one on board who felt the shift in the equilibrium of the ship.”  Spock stood, as expected, at attention, and Jim couldn’t help but give him a slight smile.

 

     “Tell me, Spock, when did you notice this shift…this vibration?  Can you pinpoint its possible origin?”

 

     “The vibration was noticeable as I was finishing my meditation.  I have considered the possibility that due to the differing senses being used for each memory, I may have become disoriented, thus my belief that there was a vibration.  The first memory focused mostly on tactile and language retrieval:  the second on visual and language.  That is the only reasonable explanation I can give at this time.”  He waited patiently for the Captain’s response. 

 

    With just the barest hint of remorse, Kirk answered.  “I have given this some thought, and I will authorize a limited diagnostic on the engines to continue; however, I believe that it’s time for you to end your research into the Medaris list.  Bones is right…it’s a moot point.  You and your Mother are alive, and I feel that this investigation is negatively impacting you and your performance.  If you’ll wrap up the loose ends, we’ll call it quits.”

 

     Spock’s only response was to blink several times in quick succession.  He then focused on a point just above the Captain’s head and spoke.  “Sir, I respectfully request permission to complete my investigation into the past situation on Medaris.  I believe that it is quite urgent that I do so.”

 

     “Urgent?”  Kirk gave the Doctor a sharp look even as McCoy’s eyes narrowed.  “How so?”

 

     “After examining all of the available facts, which include the recording and the memories of both myself and my Mother, I believe that we actually did die on Medaris.  I am trying to determine how we were resuscitated and under what circumstances our lives were saved.”  Spock’s answer was not what Kirk expected or wanted to hear.  With regret, he looked over at the Doctor, who was patiently waiting.

 

     “Spock, report to Sickbay with Bones.  I’m…”

 

     Unexpectedly, a strange vibration hit the deck.  It wasn’t enough to cause anyone to be knocked down, but it was strong enough for a few startled yelps from the ensigns.  The low bass sound rumbled for a few seconds, and then slowly faded away.

 

     “Jim!  That is the exact sensation that I felt earlier.”  As he waited for the Captain’s response, Spock noted with slight annoyance that the Doctor was now scanning him with his tricorder.

 

     Jim Kirk was momentarily taken off guard by the unforeseen event, but quickly recovered.  “Scotty, what’s going on?  It that something here in Engineering or is it some external force?”

 

     Mr. Scott was darting between station posts in the department.  “Sair!  I dinna see anything that shows a disturbance in me engines.  I’d say it’s external.”

 

     “Very well, Mr. Scott.  Keep searching.  Captain to the Bridge.”

 

     “Yes, sir?”  Mr. Sulu’s surprised voice was something of a shock to Kirk.  Certainly, after the shaking, he would be expecting the Captain’s call.

 

     “Mr. Sulu, have you had any indication of any type of external force or possible damage to the ship from enemy fire?”

 

     For a few brief seconds, there was only a silent open channel.  Sulu’s confused voice then answered.  “Sir, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.  There has been nothing out of the ordinary happening here.”

 

     Exasperated, Kirk’s raised voice sounded through the department.  “Mr. Sulu, you mean to tell me that there wasn’t any type of disturbance that shook the ship about 10 seconds ago?”

 

     “12 seconds.”  Spock’s automatic correction only earned him a sharp glance from the Captain.

 

     Sulu sounded somewhat taken aback by the extraordinary question.  “Sir, I can assure you that there has been no disturbance.  Everything has been normal…too normal.”

 

     “Thank you, Mr. Sulu.  Kirk out.”  Although the situation was serious, the Captain couldn’t help but give his First Officer an amused look.

 

     “So, tell me, Spock.  What are you doing to my ship?”  He waited for the expected affronted look, but Spock only stared impassively at a point in front of him.

 

     “Captain, I have no explanation…I do not know.  I shall accompany Dr. McCoy to Sickbay as requested.”  Without another word, he walked back toward the exit to Engineering, the Doctor following.  McCoy looked over his shoulder at Kirk, and they each had a similar expression.  There was something potentially dangerous happening to his ship that involved Medaris, and the one person closest to answering the puzzle now seemed to be…what?  Kirk struggled to find the right words.  Finally, he settled on a feeling that he had…something he never would have believed possible.  It seemed that Spock had lost his will to fight.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     The only audible sound in the office was the faint ticking of an antique clock in the main room and their breathing.  Sarek knew better than to try to estimate his wife’s reaction to his statement.  As with most humans, she simply didn’t respond in a concise, logical manner.  Finally, she sat up a little straighter in the chair and spoke.  “Are we the same people now as in that recording?  If not, then who are we?”  Her level voice surprised him even though he knew he shouldn’t be.

 

     “Yes, you and Spock are the same.”

 

     “Explain.”

 

     “Specify.”

 

     “You sit there and calmly tell me that we died, and now you’re telling me that we are the same people as in the recording.  Those people DIED!  How can we be alive now?  What could have caused our injuries to go from deadly to minor?  What happened between the time of the explosion and our arrival on the Ben Smith?  Why are we still on the list of fatalities?”  The volume of her voice had increased incrementally as each question was asked.  Sarek once again was silently grateful that his son didn’t inherit his Mother’s temperament.

 

     “Amanda, it will take some time to explain completely.”

 

     “Then, let’s begin.  I have no classes to teach until this afternoon.  You’re not going anywhere until you fully explain what happened, and I mean to my complete satisfaction.”  Her fiery blue eyes nearly dared him to move.  He took in a deep breath.

 

     A strange rumbling sound reverberated through the room.  While seismic activity was fairly common on Vulcan, this felt different.  As the vibration slowly tapered off, Sarek was taken aback by Amanda’s reaction.  Her eyes were tightly closed and she appeared to be several shades paler than she had been only seconds earlier.

 

     “Are you feeling faint?  Lean forward and…”

 

     “No, I’m alright.”  She opened her eyes and gave her husband a quick smile.  “Usually I’m not disturbed by the quakes.  That one just took me by surprise.”  She closed her eyes again, and yawned.  “I’m apparently far more tired than I thought.  Let’s continue, though.  I want you to tell me everything you remember about Medaris.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    

 

     McCoy scrutinized and adjusted the biobed readouts for a third time and sighed.  No, there wasn’t anything leaping out as to how the ship’s First Officer could be causing the vibrations that were being attributed to him.  Spock had settled himself on the bed without protest and was now deep in meditation.

 

     “Meditation…napping…what’s the difference?”  McCoy waited for a mordant defense, or at the very least, a raised eyebrow.  But there was no change in the Vulcan’s countenance.  Spock’s use of meditation was a recent development that the Doctor wasn’t entirely comfortable with.  With the conclusion of their mission coming to a close in a few months, the Doctor wondered again what would happen to the crew.  McCoy sighed again, and mentally debated what was worse:  Spock arguing that he was fine when it was obvious he wasn’t, or Spock meekly submitting to any medical request the Doctor had.  Reluctantly, McCoy surmised it was the latter.  He cleared his throat several times until the Vulcan slowly raised his eyelids.

 

     “I have some questions.”  He waited for Spock to focus his attention on him, but there was no indication that the First Officer was going to permit interruptions.

 

     “I am attempting to meditate, Doctor.  I shall answer your questions in due time.”  Before he closed his eyes again, McCoy reached out and touched him briefly on the arm, which achieved the desired effect.  Spock pulled away and intensely searched the Doctor’s face for an explanation.

 

     “Doctor, you know…”

 

     “Yeah, I do know.  But listen here…we don’t have time for you to go traipsing into some ‘state’ of transcendentalism.  If you were human, I’d swear you were depressed.  I know better, but just the same, I’d like you to consider a few things.  Number One:  You are not causing any harm to this ship.  I don’t understand the shaking thing, but I don’t believe you’re behind it.  The tricorder didn’t pick up even a trace of any unusual emanations coming from you when I scanned you in Engineering.  Number Two:  Jim was only kidding when he said you were doing something adverse to the ship.  I’ll deal with him later and remind him what happens when you try to joke with a Vulcan.  Number Three:  You are not turning into Gary Mitchell.”

 

     McCoy was rewarded with a quick succession of blinks.  The affronted look the Doctor was accustomed to was now present.  Bingo, he thought, I should have been a psychologist.

 

     “Doctor, I am aware of all of your ‘points’, but I did not come to Sickbay for an amateur psychological analysis.  There is something occurring that may pose a potential threat to the ship, and at this time, there are no concrete answers.  Since the incidents appear to be centered around me, my only objective in conceding to this examination is to determine a course of action that will cause a cessation to the disturbances.”

 

     “Well, all I know is that you may or may not be somehow involved.  Tell me, when did the first tremor happen again?”  As Spock elaborated on what had transpired in his quarters involving the memory retrieval, McCoy found himself once again bemused by the seemingly endless abilities of the First Officer.  As Spock concluded his ruminations, the Doctor had a quizzical look on his face.

 

     “Alright, I was able to follow all of that…except for one thing.  What does ‘tallick’ mean?”

 

     Spock looked distinctly uncomfortable.  “The word is taluhk, Doctor.  It is of no significance to this investigation.”

 

     Sensing an opportunity for future exploitation, McCoy pressed the issue.

 

     “All I have to do is ask the computer.  It’s a Vulcan word, right?  You never know…it might be important.  I’m assuming it’s some kind of…nickname?”  He stared with barely suppressed glee at the First Officer, who had adopted a rather immobile posture.  Finally, with the mortified air of a condemned man, Spock answered the question.

 

     “Yes, Doctor.  The word is Vulcan.  It means…precious.”

 

     The explosive cough McCoy used as a cover barely shrouded his laugh.  Now, this was a lot better dirt than the sehlat had ever been. Regaining his composure, he graced the First Officer with a wide grin.

 

     “Well, I mean…you were only a baby.  Hell, it could be worse.  My mom called me sugar bugger until I was 5.”

 

     Spock’s left eyebrow nearly disappeared into his bangs.  “Yes, that is worse.  The term of endearment is irrelevant to our search for answers.  It is increasingly obvious that the answers are on the planet Medaris itself.  Without the ability to contact the planetary officials, we may be foiled in our attempt to determine the cause of the vibrations, let alone answer the questions surrounding the bombing.”

 

     The intercom suddenly came to life.  “Kirk to Sickbay.  Bones…everything all right down there?  Any ideas? Thoughts? Answers?”

 

     “Nope, nothing yet.  I haven’t found any indication that Spock is consciously or unconsciously causing the disturbances.  All scans are normal.  I’d guess that it might be some outside force…maybe the vibrations are a warning?  Both tremors seemed to happen when Spock was checking into the Medaris situation.  I don’t know.”

 

     Spock leaned forward in the biobed.  “Captain, have you contacted the Suhl?  It would be inadvisable to have another ship arrive into this potentially threatening environment.”

 

     “Yes, we’ve already contacted them.  They’re waiting for our lead.  Bones, if you’re finished with Spock, I’d really like to have his assistance up here with the planetary scans.  There has to be something on Medaris that is causing all of this…and if it is a warning, then why are they doing this?  Why did they invite us here in the first place?  What are they hiding?”

 

     McCoy watched as the First Officer swung his legs off the bed and stood, impatiently waiting to be released.  With a heavy sigh and a wave of his hand, McCoy glowered at the retreating Vulcan.  “He’s on his way to the Bridge, Jim.  Oh, and by the way, we need to talk sometime about when to make jokes…and when to shut up.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “Amanda, are you certain that you are well?”  The paleness had been replaced somewhat with her more normal skin tone, but she still looked shaken.  Nodding, she gave a reassuring smile to her watchful husband.

 

     “I’m fine, really.  You have to tell me about the events immediately after the bombing.”  She watched as he briefly closed his eyes.  Now what?  He finally spoke in a mild tone that was barely above a whisper.

 

     “It would be less time consuming if I showed you.”  Amanda understood his implications and vehemently shook her head.

 

     “No.  I would prefer it if you just told me what happened…no meld.”  Sarek was taken aback by her sharp reaction.  Perhaps there was more to Medaris than even he had foreseen; however, before he could respond, she continued in an almost nonchalant manner.  “Is the request for a channel still up?  I would think that we should have been in contact with Spock by now.”  Sarek raised an eyebrow.  Now, this was an interesting development; first, she wanted to talk about Medaris, but now she was blatantly trying to change the subject.  With an inward sigh, he checked the link.

 

     “There is an indication of interference.  Our request is still active, but if you wish, I shall contact the Embassy to see if they would expedite our request.”

 

     “Is that advisable?  Won’t they ask why you want to contact the Enterprise?”  She was pleased that Sarek was taking her concerns seriously, but getting the Embassy staff involved might not be wise and could lead to unwanted questions.

 

     “If a diplomatic ship has been dispatched to Medaris, then I have a responsibility to alert them to any possible trouble.  It is also rare that I make such a request, which will no doubt work to our advantage.  Use of the Embassy’s communications capabilities may prove beneficial to our immediate need.”

 

     “Well, I guess using a little pull wouldn’t hurt.  If you would?”  She could see that Sarek was already contacting the Embassy.  Sitting back, Amanda tried to fathom why she felt a precipitous drop in her willingness to discuss Medaris.  There were events surrounding the trip that might hold the key, but all of those things had occurred so long ago and she had come to terms with all of them…she thought.  Maybe dredging up long suppressed memories wasn’t such an effortless task.  She sensed more than noticed Sarek watching her.  Now would be a good time for an explanation, if she could come up with one.

 

     “So, were there any questions about our request?”

 

     “None, as expected.  The staff will contact us immediately when the channel is available.  Amanda…”

 

     “I know.  I’m sorry.  I really don’t understand why, but I feel an almost violent aversion to the whole idea of talking about Medaris.  Maybe it’s just because of all that was happening at that time.”  She hoped beyond hope that her husband would accept that answer, but she knew better.  He had cocked his head to one side and was obviously considering his response carefully.

 

     “If you would tell me what specific events you are recalling, I might be better able to understand.”  He was once again surprised.  She was calm, but an undercurrent of almost bitter tension was tangible in her voice.

 

     “Well, let’s see.  Within the timeframe from our marriage to our son’s birth, I had left Earth, been immersed in a completely foreign lifestyle with customs and rituals that I didn’t always know or understand, had to learn fluently a vastly different language, had to be reminded on a nearly daily basis that I was, by some eccentric whim of the Vulcan Ambassador, his wife and therefore had to learn the world of diplomacy and conduct, had to completely change my expectations of what was ‘normal’ in a pregnancy, had been told repeatedly that I was far too young by Vulcan standards to be doing any of the things that I was doing…shall I go on?  I didn’t go into his marriage with my eyes closed:  I was aware of the drastic changes and sacrifices ahead…but, I didn’t think that one of those sacrifices would be my son.”  She looked down at her shaking hands.  Why was she doing this?  What could be accomplished by such irrational ranting?  Although the subject of Spock’s upbringing wasn’t taboo, it had been a divisive enough issue that they had an unspoken truce about even broaching the subject.

 

     Gently, Sarek leaned over and touched her arm.  She leaned against his touch as if gathering some strength, and then exhaled forcefully.  “You must think that I’ve lost my mind, carrying on like this.”

 

     “No.  I know well the sacrifices you made.  I also believe that I understand why Medaris is difficult for you to discuss.  Was it not at Spock’s three month checkup that the Healers first suspected his psi abilities?”  She barely nodded.

 

     That had nearly been the breaking point.  Foolishly, they had both assumed that since Amanda was human and Sarek’s psi rating was relatively low for a Vulcan that their son’s abilities would also be low.  Although the testing usually wasn’t done until a child was six months old, the Healer’s acute sensitivity told her that there was something already developing.  The stunning news that Spock’s rating was such that he could be ranked among the top psi rated Vulcans had greatly pleased Sarek…and devastated his wife.  She had recently been reading about the pre-reform period of Vulcan history, and what she had discovered about those with high psi ratings was frightening.  They were the most feared warriors due to their ability to break down the mental shields of their enemies.  The strongest were able to force the information from resisting minds, for all intensive purposes ‘raping’ the victim to take what they wanted.  And now, her baby was supposed to have that ability?

 

     Just as they were leaving, the Healer asked to speak with Amanda alone.  Sarek took Spock and left, a proud father with his precocious son.  As the Healer told her what she now needed to do, Amanda could only sit and listen with numb disbelief:  No outward show of emotion, don’t allow anyone other than family (Vulcan family) to hold him, only allow those with strong mental shielding abilities to be around him, and most important of all, no touching unless it was absolutely necessary.

 

     “But, he’s only three months old!  I have to hold and touch him!”  The Vulcan woman gave her a look that bordered on contempt.

 

     “That may be true for a Human infant, but you married a Vulcan and have a Vulcan child with superior psi abilities.  Your pathetic shielding will have to be greatly improved along with your emotional control.  You must learn shaula.  I shall assign a Savensu to you in order that you might attempt to learn some of the minimum techniques.”

 

     “What happens if I can’t learn them?”  The next words of the Healer played over and over again in Amanda’s mind for years.

 

     “Yes…what will happen?  You should have considered this prior to conception instead of at this time.  It is far too late now.  Unless you want to do irreparable harm to the child, you will follow my instructions.  If you cannot learn the mind techniques, you will have to consider your options.”

 

     “I’m his Mother and I would never do anything to harm him!”  She watched as the Healer took a step away from her.  As the Vulcan’s eyes swept her, Amanda knew she had just verified the Healer’s point with her outburst.

 

     “It would be wise for you to start the training immediately.  You will be informed of when you will meet with the Savensu.  You may also want to examine your options should you fail.”

 

     “I won’t fail.  I’ll do whatever is necessary to learn the techniques,” Amanda earnestly interjected.

 

     The Healer gazed at the Human before her.  “It may not be possible for you to learn the mind techniques when dealing with a Vulcan child.  You are Human.”

 

     Amanda knew what the Healer was asking, and she struggled to say the words.

 

     “If I can’t learn the techniques, then I have no option.  I will leave Vulcan.  I would never do anything to harm my child.  It would break my heart, but I would leave.”

 

     The training would start as soon as they returned from Medaris.

 

     Medaris had been the last time she could treat her son as hers…and not Vulcan’s.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Well, Spock, anything?”  The Captain stepped back to the Science station and was hoping for a positive response, but he was disappointed.

 

     “No.  There are neither indications of planetary variations that would account for the incident in Engineering, nor are there any vast supplies of invaluable resources that would enlighten the remarks of the Medari bombers.”

 

    Kirk rubbed his chin as he narrowed his eyes.  “So, nothing.  We really need to talk with the officials.”  Upon hearing the Captain’s words, Uhura swung her chair toward him.  She sighed deeply before speaking.

 

     “Sir, I have tried everything short of smoke signals.  The connection is there, but they are refusing our hail.”  Kirk gave her an encouraging grin.

 

     “Well, don’t start a bonfire, yet.  We’ll just keep trying until…”

 

     Uhura put her hand up to her earpiece and tilted her dark head to listen intently to an incoming message.  “Captain, good news.  We have reestablished the channel with Medaris.  The Governor is hailing us.”

 

     “Put him on the screen.”

 

     The Medari Governor appeared, swaying side to side as he spoke.  “Ah, Enterprise Captain!  It is good to hear from you again.”

 

     Kirk looked over at Spock, whose raised eyebrow matched Kirk’s.  “Um, Governor I’ay’ki.  It is a pleasure to speak with you again; however, we have been trying to contact your offices for the past several hours.  Has there been some breakdown in your communications system?”

 

    The Governor stopped his movements.  “No.  We have had no breakdown and there has been no attempt by your ship to contact us.  Why would you say such a thing?”

 

     “Sir, we have been trying to contact you and…”

 

     “There has been no such attempt.  This continuation of lies is increasingly distressing to my government.  Perhaps we should reconsider our interest in joining the Federation.”  The Governor had started moving his tentacles in the random pattern that Kirk recognized as agitation.  Personally, Jim Kirk was getting tired of playing this ‘who’s

telling the truth’ game with the Governor.

 

     “Governor, we could sit here and go back and forth about our communications access; however, what’s important is that we are talking now and we would like to meet with you again at your earliest convenience.  There are some questions that involve both the bombing and some incidents on board our ship that you might assist us with.”

 

     “I shall consult with my staff to determine a course of action.”  Without warning, the link was severed.  Kirk looked over his shoulder at his First Officer.

 

     “Well, what do you make of that little display?”

 

     Spock stared at the screen a moment before focusing on the Captain.  “It was quite interesting.  The Governor appears to believe that we were not attempting a communications link prior to his contact.  I am confident that Lieutenant Uhura made every conceivable effort at contact.”

 

     “Yes, I agree.  So, if it’s not on our end, then what’s going on with the Governor and his staff?”  The Captain slumped into his seat and considered his options.  The entire situation with Medaris was beginning to try his patience.  They only had a few more months until their mission was complete.  No, wait.  Their ‘historic’ five-year mission.  He grimaced at the thought of being written into the history books before they even got back to Earth.  He knew most of the crew had already reenlisted or had revealed their plans for the future…with one notable exception.

 

     Looking over his shoulder once again, Kirk wondered what Spock was planning.  He knew better than to guess.  Spock had gone above and beyond his duties to the crew and ship more times than he could count, and yet maybe it really wasn’t what his friend wanted.  Taking time off would probably be beneficial for all of them.  The stress and responsibilities thrust at them daily was trying under the best circumstances.

 

     “Sir?”  Uhura’s soft voice interrupted his reverie.

 

     “Yes, Lieutenant?”

 

     “I am receiving another transmission from the planet; however, it isn’t coming from the Governor.  Would you like me to put it on the screen?”

 

     Kirk leaned forward in his seat.  “Go ahead and open the frequency.”

 

     On the screen appeared a Medari female wearing a bright orange outfit.  She swayed back and forth in a gentle, breeze-like way.  “My name is I’Ry’No.  I need to speak to the Enterprise Captain.”

 

     Kirk stood up.  “I am the Captain of the Enterprise, James T. Kirk.  May I ask why you are contacting us?”  The Medari continued to sway.

 

     “I am to inform you of our reasons for contact.  We wish you no ill will, but we must insist that you leave the orbit of our planet.  There are many reasons for you to leave.  Is the infant there?”

 

     Jim’s eyes widened as he realized of whom I’Ry’No was inferring.  He turned to the Science station.  Spock stepped forward, his eyebrow raised.

 

     “I was an infant on Medari at the time of the explosion.  Do you wish to speak with me?”

 

     The Medari stopped swaying and stood completely still.  “Yes.  You must know the truth.  A gift once given can be taken away.  You have been warned.”  Once again, the communications link faded.  The star-filled screen appeared before them.  The Captain fixed his eyes on his First Officer.

 

     “Spock, what do you think that meant?”

 

     The Vulcan carefully weighed his words before speaking.  “Captain, I believe that the gift she speaks of is the fact that my Mother and I live.”

 

     “Lieutenant, re-establish that channel!”  The Captain strode up to the Communications post and placed a hand on the back of Uhura’s chair as her manicured fingers flew over the console board.

 

     “Sir, I’m not even picking up a signature trace for the origin of that message.  It’s as if it appeared out of thin air.”  Her dark, concerned eyes looked up at the Captain as he moved over to his First Officer.  Spock had turned back to the science monitor and was vigilantly scanning for any further information.

 

     “Spock, I’m curious about what you said in Engineering about believing that you and your Mother actually died on Medaris.  Do you think that the Medari have some type of control…or power…over life and death?”

 

     Spock pushed away from the monitor with just the slightest nod of his head.  “That is a possibility due to the disparity in our medical condition between the time of the explosion until we arrived back on board the Ben Smith.   I find it difficult to speculate without more details; however, there is at least one fascinating aspect of this unexpected contact with I’Ry’No.  She was one of those in attendance at the Assembly Hall meeting.  Her name appeared on the attendance rolls and she was, and continues to be, one of the Medari wearing colors other than the traditional green.  Of interest is the fact that she positioned herself near the back of the hall prior to the explosion.”

 

     “So, the colors might indicate a political party affiliation.  Didn’t you say that there were three factions on Medaris with differing views on joining the Federation?  Maybe it’s a coincidence, but it’s a little hard to believe that the three colors don’t correspond to the three groups.  The fact that she was near the back of the hall…maybe she knew what was going to happen?  The Medari woman with your Mother might not have been aware of the bomb because of her take on joining the Federation.”  Kirk could feel the pieces to the Medari puzzle beginning to fall into place.  Spock concurred with a brief nod.

 

     “Yes, that would be a logical postulation.  The Medari bombers avowed on the transcript that they were loath to kill one of their own, but perhaps because of her views, she was considered expendable.  The matter of life and death is not so easily tacit.  I am still not persuaded that…”

 

     Without warning, a reverberating bass tremor infiltrated the Bridge with an alarming alacrity.  Spock sank heavily into his chair and put his hands up to his face.  Seeing the obvious distress of his First Officer, The Captain barked out his orders as the vibrations continued at the same force as when they began.

 

     “Sulu, take us out of orbit.  Chekov, I want you to take over the Science station and begin scanning for any indications of what is happening.  Uhura, contact someone…anyone…on that damned planet and tell them that we’re complying with their request.”

 

     “NO!  Do not leave orbit!  Leaving orbit will only encourage the extreme Medari faction.”  The fierce, strangled outburst from Spock only reinforced Kirk’s resolve.  He unwillingly came to an agonizing command decision even as the sensations on the Bridge diminished.

 

     “Spock, this is obviously causing you tremendous pain.  Until we determine the exact cause of the vibrations, you’re relieved of your duties.  Report to Sickbay.”

 

     It seemed that the entire Bridge crew was holding its collective breath.  Spock hadn’t stirred since virtually falling into his chair.  Without looking at the Captain, he stood and stiffly left the Bridge.  The crew wordlessly went about their duties, and Jim Kirk felt the weight of his verdict bearing down on him.  Guilty until proven innocent…damn, what must Spock be thinking?  First, the Captain requested his presence on the Bridge, and then he’s told to leave.  Worse, what if Spock was the actual cause of the increasingly violent tremors?  An eerie déjà vu sensation crept over the Captain as he thought about another First Officer and the decision he had made then.  No…it wouldn’t get to that point.  This was completely different.  Spock was only the focal point and wasn’t intentionally causing the disruptions.  Pressing the comm button, Kirk leaned back in his command chair.

 

     “Kirk to Sickbay.”

 

     “McCoy here.”

 

     “Bones, just a few minutes ago, did you have any indication of a…disturbance?”

 

     “No, but let me guess.  Was there another vibration?  Is Spock there?”

 

     “He was, but I sent him to Sickbay.  Keep an eye out for him...he should be there in a few minutes.  This is beginning to affect him and I want him kept under close surveillance.  Kirk out.”

 

     He knew how that last comment would be construed, but Sickbay would be a safer place for Spock than to be confined to quarters.  At least in Sickbay he could be monitored.  A stab of guilt seared through him for having released Spock from the Doctor’s care prematurely.  Knowing Spock as he did, the First Officer would probably interpret being sent back to Sickbay as a sign of failure.  They needed answers and more than anything else, he wanted to get as far away from Medaris as soon as possible.  The added complication of the warning made him wonder just who was running things on the blasted planet.

 

     “Uhura, anything yet?”  Her frustrated features peered at him from her station.

 

     “Captain, once again all communications links have been severed.  I’m unable to open any frequencies at this time.”

 

     Tapping his fingers against the chair’s console, Kirk considered his options.  They could contact the Suhl and tell them that the diplomatic contact had been disrupted and they should try to re-establish contact at a later date.  Then they could leave.  They could re-enter orbit and risk the ship, and his First Officer, to the ‘warnings’.  They could re-enter orbit, beam down to the planet’s surface, and risk the possible wrath of the Medari who warned them to leave.  He measured the pros and cons of each option, and with a disgusted sigh he began to massage a point directly above his lip.  The first option unquestionably appealed to him the most.  An ominous flash of insight caused him to stare at the starry screen for a few moments as he reluctantly came to a conclusion he hadn’t considered earlier.  They might not be able to leave so easily and it would all depend on one thing.  He focused his attention back to his Communications Officer.

 

     “Uhura, see if you can contact Vulcan…specifically Ambassador Sarek and his wife.”  If Spock was suffering from the capricious nature of the Medari ‘gift’, it was very likely that Amanda would also be affected.  If that were the case, then there was no way out of it…they would have to stay and get answers.  If the Medari influence could reach all the way to Vulcan, then they were in a far more dangerous predicament than he had anticipated.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     With Spock’s arrival in Sickbay, the Doctor realized it was time to go back to the drawing board.  The stone-faced look on the Vulcan’s face told McCoy volumes about what must have transpired on the Bridge.  Pointing over to the same biobed that he had vacated less than an hour before, the Doctor dourly waited until Spock settled once again.

 

     “Welcome back.”  The Doctor thought of about ten good jabs he could make about Spock being sent back to Sickbay, but he grudgingly discarded them all.  With tricorder in hand, he wordlessly checked the Vulcan’s vitals while re-adjusted the biobed settings.  The beds were all programmed with standard settings based on the species involved.  It had taken the Doctor several maddening attempts to get a specific base setting for Spock’s unique hybrid mix.  Truth be told, McCoy hoped that should the Enterprise ever be refitted, someone would have the good sense to ask him what needed to be changed in Sickbay.  He was tired of constantly fiddling with adjustments to every instrument.  Of course, he knew that wasn’t likely to happen.  He didn’t plan to stick around long enough to be ‘of service’, and there would likely be too many engineers involved…they’d only make things more convoluted.

 

     “So, I take it you talked about Medaris again?”  The Vulcan said nothing.  That really didn’t surprise McCoy at all.  Although Spock wouldn’t admit it, he could pout with the best of them when he wanted to.  The silent treatment worked both ways, and the Doctor continued to recalibrate the bed rather than waste his breath.  Once everything was set, McCoy looked over the readings…then gazed back down at his patient.  Doing a double take, he checked the readouts again. 

 

     “Well, I’ll be damned.”  There was no quip about the status of the Doctor’s soul, however…the First Officer was fast asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     With his hand still on his wife’s arm, Sarek waited patiently as she gathered herself.  He could sense a growing discomfiture in her as she considered what she had said; then, just as promptly, the thoughts vanished.  Amanda’s advanced ability to shield was something that had bewildered him when it first surfaced.  Early in their marriage, he had taught her the rudimentary mind skills necessary for simple Vulcan etiquette.  The abrupt, intense interest she had developed in the Vulcan mental techniques corresponded closely to the time of the Medaris trip.  Was it just a fascinating coincidence?  Her only comment to him was that it was about time she stopped projecting her thoughts and emotions ‘all over the place’.  Amanda’s overt emotional nature didn’t mesh well with the expected Vulcan norm; however, she had learned to shield.  Vulcans did not have to block emotions for obvious reasons, but his wife had added both to the shielding techniques…with occasionally disquieting results.

 

     His son’s superior telepathic abilities had not protected him from his mother’s fury while they were aboard the Enterprise during the Coridan mission.  It was while he was recovering in the ship’s Sickbay after heart surgery that Amanda gradually revealed her confrontation with Spock and the end result.  Sarek could only wonder how it was possible for his son not to have perceived his mother’s explicit warning signs of anger…and then to actually be struck.  It was still a shock that his wife would react so cogently when confronted with a threat to her family’s safety, even if that threat was her own son.  Spock’s lack of resistance had also confounded him.  He should have at least attempted to mitigate his mother’s escalating emotions.  For one with a long-standing association with humans, his son showed an astonishing deficiency in tact.

 

     Amanda shifted in the office chair and slowly exhaled before softly speaking.  “I’ve been attempting to determine why I lashed out at you, but I can’t come up with any logical reasons.  I have no defense and I’m sorry.”

 

     “There is no reason for an apology.  I asked what you were experiencing, and you told me…without vacillation.”  He raised an eyebrow as he anticipated her response.  She flashed a hint of a smile at him, but was still troubled by the memories from that time.  What should have been the very best time in her life had been practically ruined by her own fears and doubts. 

 

     “Yes, I know I don’t need to apologize, but it will help me clear my conscience.  Why I feel so out of sorts is a mystery.  I know that it was a difficult time, but the very thought of Medaris is overwhelming.  It’s like a trigger has been pulled, and I don’t know how to stop the forward momentum.  I also know what I said earlier about the mind meld, but we should go ahead with it.  It will facilitate things in a far more efficient manner than talking; however, I have one question for you before we begin.”  Sarek leaned forward slightly in his chair and tilted his head as his wife cleared her throat.  “I need to know what you are afraid of on Medaris.”

 

     “I am not afraid of anything on Medaris.”  Sarek’s assurance was met with a dubious look from his wife. 

 

     “I’m not so sure about that.  When you walked past me earlier, I definitely sensed fear.  Why do you think I requested a channel to the Enterprise?  Will you be able to show me through the meld what was, and continues to be, so terrifying?”  In a way, she hoped Sarek would say no.  She couldn’t imagine anything that would frighten him, of all people.

 

     “My wife, I do not believe that it is wise for us to attempt a mind meld.  The memories have obviously distressed you enough without my adding to your alarm.”  He began to stand, but she reached out and briefly touched his arm.

 

     “Sarek, please sit.  We need to go ahead with the meld in order to shed light on what happened.  Once we share our memories, it should paint a more complete picture of the events and will hopefully answer some questions.  For instance, do you know why we’re still on the list of casualties?” 

 

     Standing next to his chair, Sarek nodded.  “Actually, I do know the reason.  After the list became public knowledge, I requested that your names be removed, but the government officials informed me that the list was accurate due to the Medari definition of death.  Even though a person or being may be resuscitated, the Medari deem that person as deceased.”

 

     “So, it’s just a societal variance,” Amanda commented, “That’s comforting, although I still wish they would remove our names.  If it hadn’t been for that pesky list, Spock would never have known about our ‘deaths’, and none of this would be happening.  Which brings us back to the mind meld.  I know it won’t be easy, and I’m not exactly thrilled with the prospect of more memories from Medaris, but it’s absolutely the best way for me to see what took place after the explosion.”  Her blue eyes locked onto his solemn dark brown ones as he took his seat.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds; then finally, as if on cue, inched their chairs closer together.

 

     A nervous giggle escaped from her as she tried to compose herself.  “You would think that we’d never done this before.  It won’t be too difficult for you, will it?  The process is so exhausting, and I know this will take some time.”

 

     “It will be tiresome, but I believe there may be a way to dispel some of the impact,” Sarek paused as he reconsidered his theory, and then continued.  “I shall retrieve the memories of before the explosion from you, and then my memories will begin at the moment of the explosion onward.  There can be no shielding…all will be revealed.  Is that acceptable?”

 

     “Yes…no more secrets.  Oh, just one thing.  Remember that we were both pretty young and immature at that time, or at least, I was.  Let’s begin.”  She closed her eyes as she waited for Sarek’s touch on the facial pressure points.

 

     Sarek’s mouth curled up slightly as he sat facing his wife.  Why she always…

 

     “Yes, I closed my eyes.  Now, let’s get on with it.”

 

     With a deliberate sense of purpose, he skillfully moved his hands into position.  “My mind to your mind…your thoughts to mine…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Amanda once again glanced at the chrono…great.  Only 27 minutes before they were to leave, and her son has decided that now is a great time to procrastinate while nursing.  She moved the information padd closer from the low table and continued to read.  No unusual honorifics, titles were Standard common, bowing was expected from both male and female, avoid the buffet table (some of the foods appeared to be moving), the Medari seem to be overly sensitive to any implied affront… There didn’t appear to be any bizarre behaviors to be concerned about.  Adjusting the baby, she stood and double-checked their wardrobe.  The Medari evening was cooler than initial reports had indicated.  She had added a light outer garment to her own outfit, and she had a heavier blanket that would be comfortable for both indoors and outdoors for Spock.

 

     She was glad that she had packed extra, even though it had been a point of contention.  True, it was best to travel light, but they now had a baby to consider.  As she rocked slowly back and forth, she thought about the next few days.  After the meeting tonight, there would be a tour of the gardens in the morning.  Now that was something she was really looking forward to.  Getting a close up view of the amazing, unusual plants might help to take her mind off of the tension she sensed between herself and Sarek.  It had been her idea to come with him to Medaris.  After practically begging to come, she knew Sarek was displeased with her cocooning herself and the baby in the villa, but she had, in truth, under-estimated her stamina.  Plus, the time alone had given her a chance to formulate a plan for dealing with the consequences of her discussion with the Healer.  It was time for her to stop reacting and become pro-active and trust her instincts.  She knew her son better than the Healer; and, while she would do her utmost to learn the mind techniques, she wasn’t going to be run off so easily.

 

     Tonight, although she would prefer not to, she and Spock would make an appearance at the Assembly Hall meeting.  Then, after the tour in the morning, they would go to the closing reception tomorrow evening.  After that, they would return home. 

 

     Sarek had already dressed and was in the outer room preparing his closing arguments.  Negotiations had gone well, and the Medari were expected to accept the invitation for admission to the Federation.  Amanda knew that the Medari diplomatic talks hadn’t been the ‘slam dunk’ some of the Federation members had expected.  There had been some resistance, but it had apparently not been strong enough to overcome the likely end result.

 

     Feeling no movement, she checked her son’s progress.  His cheek was leaning against her skin, and his eyes were half-closed.  Smiling, she placed him in the middle of the bed and checked the chrono.  19 minutes.  It would be tight, but she should be able to do it.

 

     After dressing, she looked in the floor length mirror and shook her head.  The dress wasn’t too bad, but it was still a little tight around her stomach and hips.  Shrugging it off, she changed into a less confining outfit that she remembered Sarek had actually commented on.  Not much of a comment, as she recalled… Checking the mirror again, she grimaced.  Still not right.  15 minutes.  Aggravated, she moved away from the mirror and began touching up her make-up.  Stop being so vain, she thought.  You just had a baby three months ago and you’re acting like a spoiled brat who wants everything just so.  Smiling, she remembered her brother’s saying whenever she took too long to dress… ‘Vanity, thy name is Amanda’.  The outfit looks fine, she decided.  The hair, however, was another matter entirely…

 

     After several attempts, Amanda finally decided that her hair had revolted and wouldn’t stay up even if glued.  Brushing it out, she pinned back the front and gave up.  Sarek would not be pleased, but it couldn’t be helped.  The hair would stay down.  There was still the matter of dressing her son and she was now down to 9 minutes.  Fortunately, he was in a good mood and only vocalized slightly as she hastily changed him into his dress clothes.  The end result made her lean down and plant a kiss on his forehead.  The formal cut of the brown jumper seemed too incongruous for a baby, but the fact that it had come from Sarek’s mother made it special.  Their frosty relationship had thawed considerably since Spock’s birth, and Amanda sensed that the older woman was very pleased to have a grandson.  As she traced the intricately embroidered House and Clan identification on the front of the garment, Amanda sighed.  Yes, she might not say it, but her mother-in-law certainly appeared to be delighted with Spock.  Maybe, someday, she wouldn’t be so adverse to the idea of having a Human daughter-in-law.

 

     “Amanda, it is time to go.”  The commanding voice of her husband sent her scrambling to finish.

 

     “Yes, I know…just a minute.”  She wrapped the blanket around her son and grabbed the supply pack with extra baby items.  According to Sarek, the ground vehicle they would be traveling in would be at the Assembly Hall the duration of the meeting, so she would be able to leave the bag without taking it in.  Entering the outer room, she quickly joined Sarek at the door.  He was looking particularly stern.

 

     “We are late.  The Medari are quite effortlessly offended, Amanda.  It is imperative that we do not antagonize them.”

 

     “I’m not late.  We still have 20 minutes until the official start of the meeting.  If you would…” She handed Sarek the bag and stepped out of the villa.  They made their way to the waiting vehicle and were soon on their way to the Assembly Hall. 

 

     Glancing out the window, Amanda noted that the Medari gardens were still swaying.  Interesting.  Yes, it would be nice to… 

 

     “Ouch!  Taluhk, stop that.”  She reached down and started to disentangle a large strand of hair from her son’s fingers.  How he could find the strands of hair that were apparently attached to the most sensitive part of her scalp was beyond her.

 

     “Standard…remember our agreement.  Why did you not put your hair up?”  Sarek’s reminder and query were met with an annoyed gaze.

 

     “I didn’t have time.”  Amanda knew her tone was inconsiderate, but Sarek had never had his hair nearly yanked out by the shaft by his son.  And the endearment…it was such a petty thing to mention.  Finally, she was freed from the baby’s grasp and she started to gently rock back and forth.  Her hope was that he would be asleep before they reached the Hall.  The meeting would be lengthy enough without having a fidgety infant to contend with.  After only a few minutes, the lights of the Great Hall came into view.  Sarek turned toward her.

 

     “If our son begins to cry, it might be best if you took him into another room,” he ordered, “the reaction of the Medari to an infant has not been clearly defined.”

 

     Looking down at their now sleeping son, Amanda cast a chilly glance at her husband.  “Sarek, don’t worry.  Spock is fast asleep.  You’ll be so wrapped up in some debate that you won’t even know that we’re there.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Normal.  Normal.  Normal.  McCoy groused as he checked the readouts once again.  He knew he should be giving more of the routine responsibilities to his new Head Nurse, but he still wasn’t used to the idea of Christine Chapel being gone.  It was a great move for her to enter Medical school, but he missed her terribly.  It was so damned hard to find a good nurse these days.

 

     A niggling feeling in the back of his mind told him that something wasn’t right.  It simply bordered on the absurd that Spock had come into Sickbay, hopped up on a biobed, and without so much as a word fell asleep.  But under what circumstances did he, as a Doctor, have the right to wake him?  Because of a feeling?  Spock would love that.  Hell, half the time he was begging the Vulcan to slow down and take it easy.  There wasn’t any reason in the world for him to be apprehensive about a little shut eye…so why was he?

 

     The Sickbay doors opened and the Captain came in with an almost guarded, guilty air about him.  He dipped his head faintly when he saw McCoy.

 

     “Bones, I need to talk to Spock.”

 

     McCoy shrugged.  “Sure, Jim.  Good luck waking sleeping beauty, though.  He’s been sound asleep practically from the moment he hit the door.”

 

     Kirk’s expression darkened.  “Asleep?  Spock?  Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

 

     Irritation coated the Doctor’s words as he spoke.  “Odd?  Abnormal?  Strange?  Hell, at this point I’ve given up trying to come up with enough adjectives that fit.  This whole situation is ridiculous, and my advice is to pack it up and leave the lousy, stinking planet to the diplomats.”

 

     Kirk walked over to the biobed that was occupied by his First Officer.  A cursory check of the readouts above the bed seemed to indicate no problems, at least in his layman’s opinion.  He locked eyes with McCoy, his muted tone only highlighting his concern.

 

     “Bones, I promise you that I’ve been doing my best to follow your advice.  I’d like nothing better than to get the hell away from here.  We aren’t in orbit anymore, but I’m beginning to think that there isn’t a cut and dried solution to what’s happened on Medaris…either now or in the past.  Uhura is trying to raise Vulcan, because I think there’s a chance that this could be affecting Amanda.  If that’s the case, then we’re really in a mess.  I mean, what could be the range of this ‘Medari’ manipulation?  Also, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that Spock has been under some type of aggressive outside influence from the very beginning.  Earlier, I had a conversation with him in his quarters about the memory retrieval, and he actually estimated the time between the explosion and the time his Mother woke on the Ben Smith.  He estimated!  And then in Engineering, instead of twelve point something, he just said twelve seconds.  He’s been so unfocused and had really struggled with this entire investigation.  That’s just not like Spock.”

 

     McCoy nodded in agreement.  “Yeah, Jim, I feel the same way.  Something’s not right, but what?  I mean, his behavior has been out of whack lately, but I just chalked it up to the whole Medari vid thing.  Seeing something like that would mess up even the most detached person, and whether he’d admit it or not, I believe that Spock is pretty close to his Mother.  That’s the impression I got during the Babel fiasco.”

 

     The Doctor was still counting his lucky stars that he had pulled off the heart surgery on the Ambassador.  He had imagined news vids beginning with the headline ‘Starfleet Doctor Kills Vulcan Ambassador in Botched Surgical Attempt’.  Of all the people to have to save on a damned diplomatic mission, it would have to be Spock’s father.  McCoy still speculated on how two people who appeared to be as different as night and day had ever gotten together in the first place, let alone married and had a son…a son who’s recent actions weren’t very ‘logical’.  The logical thing to do…the Doctor did have to admit that he enjoyed the look of irritation that he got from the First Officer when he asked him EXACTLY when his parents married and EXACTLY when he was born.  Spock pretended he didn’t know what the Doctor was talking about.

 

     “I know.  That’s the impression I got also.  So, what should we do?  Just let Spock sleep?”  Kirk’s hazel eyes held the Doctor’s gaze as they both tried to determine a course of action.  Finally, McCoy folded his arms across his chest and shrugged.

 

     “Jim, I can’t think of any good reason to wake him.  He’s here in Sickbay, so there’s no reason to worry.  Why don’t we just let him sleep this whatever it is off?”

 

     The Captain sighed as he went back toward the Sickbay doors.  “You’re right.  There’s no reason to wake him.  But if something…”

 

     The Doctor interrupted.  “Yeah, I know.  You’ll be the first to know.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “…She who is my wife.”

 

     Amanda joined Sarek as he stood in front of the Medari representative and placed her middle and index fingers against her husband’s hand in the traditional Vulcan way.  Then they both bowed.  The representative swayed as they stood in front of him.

 

     “Ah, yes!  We have met with the Ambassador, and now we are honored to meet his wife and progeny.  Yes, very good.  I am Diplomat I’an’do, Senior diplomatic representative for the Medari government.  We were growing concerned that you were somehow not interested in meeting with us.”  The Medari continued to sway, but Amanda recognized the implied offense.  She smiled.

 

     “Actually, I have a complaint about our lodgings.”  She sensed Sarek’s astonishment through their bond as the Medari stopped swaying.

 

     “A complaint?  What could be wrong?”  The representative was now completely motionless.

 

     “Yes, a complaint.  The villa is so spectacular that you’ve made it nearly impossible for me to leave it.  My husband had to entice me to come this evening so that I might thank you for your magnificent hospitality.  I will be comparing future mission accommodations to yours, and I have no doubt that they will be sorely lacking.”

 

     She heard a soft exhale next to her as I’an’do began swaying in an even more noticeable fashion.  “Oh?  Oh, you are pleased!  Very good!  We researched what was necessary for Federation members and did what we could to provide for your comfort.”

 

     “You have excelled.  We are most pleased.”  Sarek’s words put an end to the pleasantries.  Amanda could tell his attention was drawn to the sounds that loudly emanated from the Assembly Hall.  Few of the conversations sounded civil.  As they stepped forward, she found that Diplomat I’an’do had placed a tentacle on her arm and was still swaying.

 

     “I would like to introduce you to the other Medari diplomats.  They will be most interested in hearing how our hospitality compares to that of other planets.”  As they entered the Hall, she glanced back toward Sarek with a ‘help, get me out of this’ look.  His serene features peered back.

 

     **You started it. **

 

     She choked back a laugh, covering it up as a cough.  His temperament had definitely improved since their arrival.  He was, without question, looking forward to arguing against the opposition to Federation membership that apparently still existed, judging from the escalating volume inside the Hall.

 

     After meeting with numerous Medari officials and being thoroughly confused by their very similar names and appearance, Amanda began to wonder how she could gracefully extract herself from I’an’do and get back over to Sarek without appearing rude.  Her husband was still near the back of the Hall, and they were now closer to the center.  Fortunately, I’an’do provided her with an opportunity.

 

     “Would you like to try something from one of our food displays?  We have both Federation and Medari specialties.”  While she tried to focus on him, she realized that his swaying was beginning to make her feel queasy and a little disoriented.  It was like watching a willow tree in a windstorm.

 

     “I appreciate your offer, but I’ve already eaten.  If you don’t mind, I shall rejoin my husband.  It was most kind of you to introduce me to the Medari representatives.  Once again, your generosity honors us.”  She bowed slightly at I’an’do as he responded.

 

     “Ah, yes.  It has been most pleasant.  I look forward to future discussions with you.”

 

     After another quick bow, Amanda made her way back to the vocal group where she could hear Sarek’s booming baritone inviting more questions about the Federation.  Unfortunately, the Medari were extremely tall and broad, and as she moved closer, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly where her husband was.  He was apparently near the middle of a large mix of Federation members and agitated Medari; however, from the periphery, there wasn’t a way to determine exactly where the middle was.  She was beginning to think it might be a good idea to go back to the villa, but there was no way to do so without possibly offending their hosts.  After laying it on so thick about their accommodations, Amanda considered using that as an excuse, but even that wouldn’t be a good enough reason to leave so early.  If only there wasn’t so much yelling…

 

     “Yes!  Tell him, I’lo’na!”  The shout from behind startled her, and she felt the involuntary jerk from her son’s body at the outburst.  Turning back toward the middle of the Hall, she struggled to push past some of the Medari that were moving toward the growing fracas.  Amanda wasn’t concerned about Sarek:  he could positively thrive in the middle of tumult.  Being in the middle of a shouting match just wasn’t any place for an infant, especially one with sensitive hearing.

 

     Finally, in a clear part of the Hall, she gazed once again at the exit.  Maybe her presence wouldn’t be missed and she could slip out.  She would leave a message for Sarek to let him know that she had left.  The quandary that presented itself was how to get to the ground vehicles.  That exit was nearly blocked by the large number of vocal Medari and Federation members who hadn’t spread any further into the Hall than just past the entrance.  It had been upsetting enough to get away from the crush around Sarek.  Checking the baby, Amanda was relieved to see that he was still asleep.  It was to be expected that for safety reasons there would be at least one more exit on the other end of the Hall, and it appeared that the crowds were thinner in that direction.  That meant that she had only one option if she hoped to find a little peace and quiet.

 

     Amanda set out toward the front of the Hall.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Weaving through the crowd was becoming easier as Amanda skirted around another group of Federation members and Medari.  The front of the Hall was definitely less congested…and quieter.  She checked her son again and sighed as she felt a wave of maternal love for her little boy.  As far as she was concerned, he was perfect, with his feather soft black hair, long eyelashes, and delicate Vulcan features that were so like his Father’s.  He had clenched one tiny fist near his face and she admired how long his fingers were.  He’d most likely be tall like Sarek.  The thought of her husband made Amanda wish she could get over to him.  Why had she been acting so horrendously toward him lately?  There was no reason for her to resent his expectations.  She had known from the beginning that there would be the normal adjustments of married life, not to mention the demands of Sarek’s diplomatic duties.  Now that they had a son, she really needed to grow up.  Hopefully, the meeting wouldn’t last all night.  Maybe they would have a little time to talk…

 

     “Amanda?  I can’t believe you’re here!”  Grinning at the sound of the familiar voice, she watched Chen Li flagging her down in order to catch her attention, followed closely behind by Ursula Driscott.  Li had been a member of the Diplomatic Corp for years…longer even than Sarek and she had recently talked of retirement.  Ursula was just beginning her career and still had her youthful enthusiasm for even the most routine assignment.  Strangely, although she was much closer in age to Ursula, Amanda felt far more comfortable chatting with Li.  They had become very close over the past couple of years.

 

     “Why, you old married woman, you!” Li beamed, her smile genuine as she took in the sight of her friend. “So, you finally had that little bundle of joy, not that we all didn’t know already.  Sarek is absolutely besotted with him…he’s such a softy.”  Li was one of the few people who hadn’t disapproved of her relationship with Sarek.  In fact, she had encouraged Amanda not to give up, even when it didn’t seem possible that things would work out. 

 

     “Yes, I’d say he’s very proud,” Amanda said, looking down at her covered son.

 

     “Proud?  His feet haven’t touched the ground since the boy’s birth.  I never thought I’d see the day Sarek of Vulcan would find something other that negotiations to occupy him, but I just knew from the start you two were meant for each other.  It’s my grandmother’s matchmaking gene, I’m telling you.”  Li’s tone had turned serious, even as her eyes sparkled.

 

     Amanda rolled her eyes as Ursula giggled.  Li loved to take credit for their marriage.

 

     “Of course.  I wouldn’t want to refute your inherited skills.”

 

     “You’d better not.  So, are you going to keep us in suspense, or…”

 

     “There is NO reason for us to join!”  The furious roar from a Medari once again took Amanda off guard…and once again, the baby twitched.  Li motioned for them to follow her as she maneuvered away from the suddenly outraged group they were near. 

 

     “Damned paranoid bunch,” Li muttered as they settled at the front of the Hall.  “I don’t know what’s going on with them.  I’m going to have to jump back into the fray here in a minute.  Sarek had them practically eating out of his hand yesterday, and now they’re ready to throw us out.  I don’t get it.”

 

     “Li, is that an exit?”  Amanda pointed toward a doorway only a few meters away.  Li’s eyes narrowed as she read the young woman’s plan.

 

     “My dear, I wouldn’t recommend trying to walk all the way around the building if you’re thinking about leaving.  It’s pitch black and downright arctic out there, not to mention that it could be dangerous.  The Medari appear to be more bark than bite.  I know it’s upsetting, especially with a baby…by the way, I detest you.” Li suddenly glowered at the young woman.

 

     “Why?  What did I do?” Amanda recognized the not-too-serious look on Li’s face and tried to appear outraged.

      “My youngest is twenty eight, and I still say that I’ve got to lose a few kilos of baby fat.  How old is Spock?  Three months?  You absolutely infuriate me.”  Her huge smile softened the harsh words.  Amanda shook her head.

 

     “Oh, you’d be surprised.  I’m still not back to where I’d like to be.”

 

     “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re too much of a perfectionist.”

 

     “Me, a perfectionist?  No, I’m afraid not.”

 

     “And I guess what you’re wearing tonight was the first thing you put on.” Li grinned when she saw Amanda jump slightly. “I know better than that.  There is one thing I wish I could get back from those days, though…my bust line.  Isn’t it great to have actual cleavage?”  Li chuckled as she watched the two younger women blush.  Amanda shook her head again.  Talking with Li was always an adventure.  She knew she shouldn’t be surprised by anything Li said as the woman was notoriously blunt. 

 

     Ursula cleared her throat.  “Um, if you two don’t mind, I’m going to go check out the buffet.  I’m starved.”  Amanda started to speak, but Li quickly held up her hand.  Once out of range, Li gave Ursula’s departing figure a displeased look

 

     “One of these days, that girl is going to read her planetary information updates.  She’ll learn, I guess.  So, tell me the truth.  What’s really going on between you and Sarek?”

 

    “What?”  Amanda expression darkened as she wondered what it was that the older woman saw that made her ask such a question.

 

     “I have four children, my dear.  There’s nothing worse than two strong willed people clashing over how to raise their child.  Everyone has their own experiences and beliefs, and trying to blend all of that is difficult enough when it involves similar backgrounds.  In your scenario, I’m afraid someone’s going to get hurt.”  Li gazed sagaciously at the person she suspected would be the one to suffer.

 

     Amanda breathed in; the turn in the conversation made her acutely uncomfortable.  Exhaling slowly, she hunted for the right words.  “Sarek and I have already discussed this.  Spock is to be raised on Vulcan as a Vulcan.  His appearance is that of a Vulcan, and he has already displayed some surprisingly strong Vulcan tendencies.  There’s a great deal to admire about the Vulcan lifestyle.  I’m not going to be hurt, or allow Spock to be hurt.”

 

     “And when did you become Vulcan?  My dear, I was hoping to hear you say that you would be blending the two cultures, not be totally immersed in only one.  Tell me…what is Spock’s full name?”

 

     The young woman’s face clouded over.  “Why do you want to know that?”

 

     “Humor me.”

 

     “Spock, cha’Sarek of Vulcan, House Surak, clan Hgrtcha Talek-sen-deen.  There’s more, but… why do you want to know?”

 

     “So, no mention of the Grayson name at all?  Nothing to indicate he has a human mother?  Come on, Amanda!  I expected more from you than that.  I know Sarek can be an indomitable figure when he wants to be, but I thought you would find a way to at least make some kind of an impression.  I guess you’ll just be Spock’s Mother and nothing more.”  Li’s dark eyes bored into Amanda’s now furious ones.

 

     “What’s so wrong with being his mother!  Vulcan names never mention the mother.  My personal interests have no bearing on my son’s upbringing.  It would be too much of a hardship for him to be torn by two diametrically opposed cultures.  The Vulcan way of life is logical and far more beneficial than the Human way.  I’m not interested in your human platitudes about simply blending Human and Vulcan cultures, as if that would be possible!  Spock is Vulcan.  That’s that.”  She turned to walk away, but Li grabbed her arm again.  Jerking it away, Amanda’s incensed voice hissed at her.

 

     “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

 

     “No, damn it, I won’t!  I want you to listen for just a minute.  If your theory is so grand and perfect, then it won’t be upended by a few inane ‘Human’ observations.  I’m not trying to insult you, or force you to become defensive.  I just want you to really think about what you’re doing.  The boy has the right to know more about his heritage than just the fact that he has a Human mother.  Being human isn’t like a disease that you try to get over!  If you ignore one part of him, won’t the other half suffer?  I know you love him, and I know you love Sarek.  What worries me is that your love seems to be so blind that you’ll do whatever Sarek says is the right and proper thing when it comes to raising your son.  YOUR son, not just Sarek’s!  I want you to at least mull over what I’m saying.”

 

     Li expected Amanda to storm away, but instead the young woman stood silently, her eyes focused on an unseen point on the floor.  When she ultimately responded, Li was taken aback by her honesty.

 

     “I know I’m going to make mistakes,” she said, unconsciously gripping the blanket tighter. “I have, without question, made plenty already with my stance on this issue.  Do I have an alternative?  No, not in my opinion, but the only thing I can do is be there for both Sarek and my son.  Yes, he is my son…I know he’s going to struggle.  That’s why I’m not going anywhere.”

 

     “Well, I’m not going anywhere, either.  I’m going to keep bringing up these situations until you start to see the truth…MY truth.  What’s that saying?  ‘To thine own self be true’.  Just don’t forget you are human, my dear.”  Li pursed her lips.  “I hate it when I can’t remember where a classic quote comes from…”

 

     “It’s from Shakespeare.  Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 3.”

 

     “Right.  I’m planning to drive you crazy about this child’s upbringing, by the way.”  Li’s face took on an exaggerated frown that she hoped would remove the sting from her words.  Amanda scowled slightly.

 

     “You’re right, I think you are going to drive me crazy.  We can talk more about this later.”  Amanda nodded her head toward the returning junior diplomat.  Ursula looked a bit pale.

 

     “I…kind of lost my appetite.”  Both Li and Amanda disintegrated into laughter.  With the stress diminished, Li gazed expectantly at Amanda.

 

     “Are you ever going to show us your son, or…”

 

     “Ah!  Federation members!  I don’t believe I have met you all yet.  I am I’Ry’Da, diplomat for Medaris.”  The female Medari swayed up to them, her blue dress clothes swirling around her.  She came to a stop directly in front of Amanda even as the young woman took a step back.

 

     “You are the wife of the Ambassador, aren’t you?  Yes…we are pleased that you are here this evening.  This is your child?  Ah, yes.  Aren’t children wonderful!”  A tentacle reached out toward the blanket.  Amanda forced herself not to pull away.  It wasn’t that the action was threatening in any way…it just reminded her of too many childhood Sci-Fi vids about monsters moving in on their victim. 

 

     “Yes, this is my…our son, Spock.”  Amanda glared at Li, who had plastered an innocent smile on her face.  A light from a vid recorder could be seen moving in toward them from the back of the hall.

 

     Ursula was rocking back and forth on her heels.  “We are going to see the baby sometime tonight, right?” 

 

     Amanda adjusted the blanket and pulled it back enough to show them the sleeping child.  A chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ accompanied the unveiling.  Li squeezed Amanda’s arm.

 

     “Well, no wonder Sarek is so pleased.  What a handsome little fellow!”

 

     “Ohhhhh!  He’s so cute!”  Ursula’s high pitched squeal was accompanied by a chuckle from Li.

 

     I’Ry’No leaned in to view the baby.  “How old is he?”

 

     “Three and a half months old.”

 

     “He is not walking yet, is he?”

 

     Amanda grinned.  “Oh, no!  He’s too young for that.  It won’t be long, though.”

 

     “Yes, they are most cute at his stage of development,” the Medari female said, her voice carrying over the crowd noise. “Soon, however, their tentacles are into everything.”

 

    Laughter…

 

    Darkness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “What the…” McCoy sprang up from his desk as he heard the monitor alarm go off.  Running into the other room, he felt a rush of adrenaline surge through him as he checked the biobed readout above Spock’s head. 

 

     It had flat-lined.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Sarek sat in the relative peace of the garden, the mid-morning heat barely registering.  He discerned that even an attempt at meditation would be fruitless.  Soon, the Healers would come out of the house to give him an update.  Soon. 

 

     Once his wife was stabilized.

 

     Once they figured out what had happened.

 

     Once they determined how a simple mind-meld had ended so disastrously.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Kirk flew through the Sickbay doors and promptly came to the conclusion that the medical emergency involving his First Officer was far from resolved.  The Doctor was busy running a neural scanner over the motionless Vulcan while McCoy’s new Head Nurse, whose name the Captain couldn’t recall at the moment, adjusted a respiratory monitor. 

 

     “Bones…”

 

     A swatting motion from the Doctor silenced him.  Kirk could hear McCoy’s admonitions to his patient as he worked.  “Damned fine time to go from sleeping to dead…on my shift, of all things.  What are you trying to do to me?  Patel, make sure that all the sensors are connected.  Like I really needed this.  I’m going to be so glad to get off this blasted ship and treat real problems…little old ladies with gout…that’s what I’ll see…not green-blooded, pig-headed Vulcans who can’t figure out the difference between life and death.”

 

     The Doctor finally addressed the Captain.  “Jim, I’ve got him stabilized, but your guess is as good as mine as to what happened.  The monitor alarm went off, and when I got in here, he was essentially gone.”

 

     Kirk focused intently on the Doctor’s continued ministrations.  “So, are you trying to tell me that Spock just…what?  Died for no reason?”  McCoy checked one of the monitor readouts as he responded.

 

     “I wish I knew.  He was asleep when I went into my office and there wasn’t an indication of any type of distress…until the monitor went off.  It wasn’t difficult to resuscitate him, but now he’s in some kind of comatose state.  It was such an instantaneous deterioration…I really can’t say that I’ve ever come across anything quite like it.  Right now, his heart rate, blood pressure and respirations are normal.  There’s no indication of brain injury or any unusual substances in his blood that might account for this.  What it reminds me of is the recently discovered Irisine Syndrome, but I’ll have to run more diagnostics and do more research into it to be sure.”

 

     “Do whatever is necessary.  I want answers to this.”  A pang of guilt once again seized the Captain.  “Bones, do you think that Spock has been slowly developing this ‘illness’, and we wrote it off as being his reaction to the vid?  His inability to focus…the whole investigation…maybe he didn’t have a chance.”

 

     “You don’t think I’ve thought about that!”  McCoy’s livid tone rang throughout Sickbay.  “Hell, Jim!  I’m supposed to be the Chief Medical Officer on this ship, and I wrote it off, too.  I should have known better than to assume it was nothing.”

 

     “It’s a little too late for us to start second guessing our actions.  What we need now are answers.  Go ahead and do that diagnostic.  I have to wonder, though, if Spock’s sudden illness has anything to do with the warning.”  McCoy gave the Captain a curious look.

 

     “What warning?”

 

     “Before the last tremor hit the bridge, we had contact from a Medari female named I’Ry’No who was present at the Assembly Hall meeting.  She insisted that we leave orbit and then said ‘A gift once given can be taken away.’  I asked Spock about it, but we really didn’t get to a decisive point before all hell broke loose.  I sent him down here because that last disruption seemed to cause him pain…he nearly fell into his seat and put his hands up to his face.  I’m willing to complete this investigation of Medaris if it helps us discover the meaning of their cryptic threat and Spock’s illness.  Maybe if we think this thing through together, there might be a chance we’ll stumble across an answer.”

 

     The Doctor agreed.  “I’ve already been trying to come up with some connection between Medaris and Spock’s current condition.  I know it’s a stretch, but…well, I keep thinking about one peculiar thing involving Spock’s memory retrieval.  He mentioned that he was trying to remember a point that occurred before and after the meeting.  Why not during?”  McCoy’s blue eyes seemed to light up at a thought and he snapped his fingers.  “Of course!  I’ll bet he was asleep.  The vid showed Amanda pulling back the blanket…I used to do that to Joanna.  I’d cover her like that to keep the light out of her eyes.  Jim, I think this really does have something to do with Medaris.  Is it possible that they’re repeating what happened…what?  Forty years ago?”

 

     Kirk was slowing nodding.  “Yes…that would explain I’Ry’No’s comment about an infant.  When she contacted us on the Bridge, she asked to speak to the infant, which referred to Spock.  They’re relating to him as he was at the time of the explosion!”

 

     McCoy’s enthusiasm dimmed with his next thought.  “But, Jim…according to Spock’s hypothesis, both he and his mother died.  If this is some type of re-creation, then how do we get him out of this coma?  Will I have the ability to keep him stabilized, or is there no stopping this thing?  There had to be some outside force that entered the picture somewhere between the time of the explosion and their return to the transport ship.  What was it?”

 

     “There’s only one way to find out.”  Kirk punched the intercom.  “Bridge.”

 

     “Sulu here, sir.”

 

     “Lieutenant Uhura?”

 

     “Uhura here, sir.”

 

     “I know you’ll probably want to scream, but would you re-establish communications with Medaris?  I’d especially like to talk with I’Ry’No…and, yes, I know there was no trace of where her message came from.”

 

     Uhura’s melodious voice responded.  “I’ll do all that I can, sir.  I’ll try to keep my hysterics to a minimum.”

 

     “Thank you.  Kirk out.”  Traveling over to the biobed, Kirk studied the monitor for a moment as it confirmed that his somnolent friend was in no pain.  He then turned on his heel and strode toward the Sickbay door.

 

     “Bones, let me know if there are any changes.  Keep him alive.  I’m going to find some answers, and I’m not going to be ignored…not this time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

     “Ambassador Sarek.”

 

     As he rose from the bench, Sarek took care not to appear impatient with the Healer.  It had been only 19.4 minutes since his arrival, and he had been most proficient in his appraisal of the situation.  The lack of information about Amanda’s condition was to be corrected momentarily.  He placed his hands behind his back and stood…the picture of equanimity.

 

     “Healer Saern.  I am gratified by your prompt arrival and treatment of my wife.”  Another person was with the Healer that Sarek did not recognize.  The woman’s apparel was familiar…

 

     Saern noticed that Sarek’s attention was drawn to the young woman behind him. “Ambassador, this is Inspector T’Pqa.  She was contacted after our initial findings related to your wife’s circumstances.”

 

     Sarek drew himself up as he realized the implications of an inspector being contacted.  “You believe that I have acted in a malevolent manner toward Amanda?  That would not be possible.  The mind meld was disrupted in a way that I have never experienced.”

 

     The Inspector stepped forward and her cool, monotone voice was colorless even for a Vulcan.  “The Healer contacted us after discovering your wife’s medical state was possibly the result of an intentional act.  There have been no other reports of such psychic assault against a Human by a Vulcan.  We must investigate to circumvent the appearance of disregard toward a Federation Terran member.”

 

     “I have no objections to an investigation; however, there was no assault, and the facts will bear out my protestation.  Also, my wife is a Vulcan citizen and will be accorded the rights of House status.”  He glanced over to the door leading into the house.  “Before I defend myself against this unanticipated inquiry, will I be permitted to see Amanda?  Her condition is of paramount importance to me.”

 

     Saern, an elder Healer noted for his medical talents, tilted his wizened head to one side as he weighed his answer.  “Sarek, I have known you for many years…82.71 years to be exact.  I did not contact the Investigator without due consideration.  We shall enter the house and you will be permitted to see your wife.  It is only for her protection that I must insist upon no physical contact.  The mind meld that you initiated has done enough harm.”

 

     As he followed the Healer and Inspector into the house, Sarek’s thoughts raced as he considered and discarded a number of possible reasons for the meld to have ended as it did.  There had been no indication of trouble…until the point of the explosion. 

 

     As he prepared to switch viewpoints, Amanda’s awareness vanished and he felt her physically falling forward.  Still deep in the meld, Sarek instinctively pulled away from the darkness he sensed invading his mind.  He struggled to preserve his own consciousness as they both fell; then, jolted by the impact of hitting the floor, he reached out to prevent Amanda from also landing hard.   Disentangling himself from his desk chair, he attempted to clear his mind and focus on what had just occurred.

 

     His first thought was that Amanda had fainted.  She had been lightheaded earlier; perhaps she had taken ill and lost consciousness.  It would have been an inimitable experience during a meld, but he could fathom no other possibility.  Swiftly, however, the extent of the crisis became evident.  Checking the pulse point at her neck, he could feel no movement. 

 

     With no evidence of respiration either, he recalled his basic medical training and was able to finally feel a thready pulse and shallow breath sounds after several indeterminate minutes of CPR.  Once the emergency was reported, Sarek sat on the floor next to his wife to monitor her.  The thoughts whirled through his mind as he considered how the meld had so tragically ended.  Had she suffered some neurological incident during the meld?  Was it possible he had done something erroneously?  Nothing had been done differently from previous melds…what could have happened?  Realistically, he would find out when the medical team arrived.  It was illogical to speculate, so he sat on the floor with one hand on his wife’s wrist as he watched her breathe.

 

     The door to the office opened, and Sarek followed the Healer and Inspector in.  Another Healer whom Sarek recognized as T’Iynin appeared to be engaged in a meld with his wife.   Sarek cast a questioning look toward Saern.  The elder man’s rejoinder was brief.

 

     “T’Iynin is attempting to determine the extent of damage to T’sai Amanda’s mind.  We shall be silent until she is finished.”      

 

     After an additional 3.23 minutes, T’Iynin carefully removed her hands from the pressure points.  She glanced up at Saern, her eyes unblinking and dark.

 

     “Her presence is gone.  I have tried to establish a link, but there is no indication of a consciousness to contact.  My impression is that this is not the result of a mind meld.  A meld alone could not cause this.  She will need to be transferred to the hospital.”

 

     Sarek had not moved from the spot he had taken next to the door.  Amanda’s body was still located on the floor as when he had been required to leave.  It reminded him so much of…

 

     “Healer Saern, is it possible that the reason for this mind meld debacle is due to the particular moment that contact was disrupted?”  The Healers and the Inspector keenly listened as Sarek continued. “The explosion that occurred on the planet Medaris, which was the memory we were revisiting, resulted in my wife and son’s deaths.  They were resuscitated in a most unique manner.  Would it be logical to hypothesize that Amanda’s injury might be cured if the meld was allowed to continue from the point it ended?”

 

     The Inspector stepped forward.  “I would not recommend such a course of action.  T’sai Amanda’s health has been severely compromised by the meld.  To continue it would be foolhardy, especially if initiated by her husband.”

 

     Sarek carefully modulated his tone as he responded.  “The Healers would be remiss in their duties if they did not supervise my every move.  You must understand that I would never do anything to deliberately harm my wife.  The meld was only used to clarify the unusual change in their medical status from the moment of the explosion until their arrival on our transport ship.  It was interrupted by some unknown entity, but if it is permitted to come to a successful conclusion, I believe that Amanda’s psyche will be revived.”

 

     The Healer T’Iynin studied the Ambassador for several moments before speaking to Saern and T’Pqa.  “The Ambassador may be correct.  If the meld was disturbed at such a critical point, the shock of that one event might have caused T’sai Amanda to deeply withdraw.  It may be a simulated death caused by the mind’s inability to distinguish between the past and the present, especially if one’s death is visually observed and verified.  If the explanation for life is not revealed, then there is the possibility that her condition will never resolve itself.  I am willing to moderate the continuation of the mind meld.  My presence will assure that there will be no danger to either party.  If some faint contact is established, then the meld will be allowed to continue.  Is that acceptable?”

 

     T’Pqa briefly considered the still form on the floor before answering.  “If there are to be answers, we will need the collaboration of the injured party.  You have assured us that no further injury can occur; therefore, I accept.  Should we not transport the patient to the hospital?”

 

     “In time, yes.  For the moment, we shall stay here.  This is a rather unorthodox experiment, but a necessary one.  I concur that the mind meld should be allowed to reach its decisive end.”  With Saern’s respected words, T’Iynin summoned Sarek over to his wife’s side.  With both hands, she placed her fingers on the pressure points of husband and wife.  The Healer remained silent as the unvoiced words evoking the meld echoed through her touch…

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     As the Bridge doors whooshed open, Lieutenant Uhura swiveled her chair toward the returning Captain.  His troubled look gave her pause, but the question had to be asked.

 

     “Captain, is Mr. Spock…”

 

     “He’s stabilized.  The Doctor is trying to determine what happened.  Anything yet?”  His question was met by the equally uneasy look of his Communications Officer.

 

     “No sir, no contact.  Sir, I’ve thought of something that might get the Medari’s attention, but I wanted to check with you first before implementing it.”  Uhura watched as the Captain graced her with an almost perfect imitation of his First Officer’s raised eyebrow.

 

     “Something to get their attention?  That sounds promising.  What is it?”

 

     “I’ve been thinking about the Medari’s use of the tremor on the Bridge and the bass sound that accompanied it.  If I make some adjustments to our outgoing hail, I should be able to mimic the wavelength of their ‘warning’ and perhaps get their attention.  Of course, it may do nothing, or it might backfire and lead to further attacks…”

 

     “Go ahead and adjust the frequency.  If they’re under the impression that the low bass sound is a warning to us, then perhaps it’s time we gave them a dose of their own medicine.  I want them to be as irritated as I am.  When you’re ready, blast that planet with our hail.  They’re going to tell us what’s going on…I’m long past the point of playing nice.” Turning toward the front of the bridge, Kirk carefully considered his next action.  “Mr. Sulu, prepare to go back into orbit.  Beforehand, though, I want to talk to a Medari…ANY Medari.  Hopefully, we won’t have to wait too long for contact.”  He stepped down to his command chair and sat, slightly perched on the edge of the seat as he studied the star field on the screen.  Punching the comm button on the chair arm, Kirk sat back as he spoke.

 

     “Bridge to Sickbay.”

 

     “McCoy here.”

 

     “Bones, I’m preparing to go back into orbit around Medaris.  Keep an eye on Spock.”

 

     “Eyes on Vulcan.  Yes sir.”

 

     “Ready, sir.”  Uhura’s soft voice interrupted Kirk’s response to his Medical Officer.

 

     “Go ahead, Uhura.  Let them have it.”

 

     A tense mood overtook the entire Bridge crew as they braced for possible retribution due to the hail.  For several minutes, the only sound was the steady hum and beep of the numerous station consoles.  Kirk finally exhaled and slid further back into the command chair, disappointed by the continued silence.  He scowled as he turned toward his Communications Officer.

 

     “Uhura, it may not be…” His assessment of the lack of response ended when he saw her hand move up to her earpiece. 

 

     “Sir!  I’m receiving a transmission from the planet.  It’s not from the Governor.  No identification offered.”

 

     The Captain sat up straighter in his chair as he spun back toward the front, a knowing

look on his face.  “Why am I not surprised?  On screen.”

 

     The features of a Medari female appeared, her blue dress wrapped around her.  She was completely still.  “End these hostilities at once!  Why are you attacking us in such a cruel fashion?  Stop immediately!”  Her obvious distress ultimately led Kirk to one action.  He gave Uhura a fleeting look as he made a slashing motion with his hand.

 

     “End transmission now, Lieutenant.” 

 

     The Medari female gradually began to sway.  “Thank you!  Thank you!  Oh, why did you do such a cruel thing?”  Kirk felt his patience once again slipping as he considered some of the cruel things that had happened recently on his ship.

 

     “We had to contact you, Miss…?”

 

     “I am I’Ry’Da, diplomat for Medaris.”

 

     Something about her name struck the Captain as familiar.  “I am Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise.  I’Ry’Da, are you the same diplomat who was listed as deceased after the Assembly Hall blast?”   He hoped that her continuous side-to-side motion was a sign of agreement.

 

     “Yes, but I am not simply listed as dead.  I am dead.”

 

     “Dead?”  Startled, Kirk bent forward, his eyes narrowing.  “Pardon me, but you seem to be very much alive from my vantage point.”

 

     “Ah, yes!  I failed to remember about you humanoids and your definitions of life and death.  I am considered dead by my people since we look upon death as a permanent condition.  It cannot be changed.”

 

     “But, it can be changed,” Kirk interjected, “you are obviously here and alive now.”

 

     “That is true; however, the fact that I did die at the time of the blast has not changed.”

 

     Kirk was starting to believe he understood the Medari’s viewpoint.  “So, if at any point during your life…no matter if you are resuscitated or however you are revived…if you die, you are officially dead.  Is that right?”

 

       “Yes.”

 

     The affirmative answer gave Kirk a small sense of relief as he decided to take a chance with some further questions.  “Diplomat I’Ry’Da, may I ask you some questions about some events that have occurred onboard my ship?  They mostly involve my First Officer.”

 

     “Ah, yes,” I’Ry’Da exclaimed, “I have heard that the infant is there.  Most interesting!  May I speak with him?” 

 

     The Captain felt a certain reluctance to reveal too much about what was going on: he still wasn’t sure that he could trust this Medari.  For all he knew, she might be the cause of all their difficulties.

 

     “My First Officer is unavailable at the moment,” he offered as a way of explaining Spock’s absence.  “Would you be able to explain to us why our ship has been hit by a series of vibrations that seem to emanate from nowhere?  They have caused no damage, but they are most distressing to us.”

 

     I’Ry’Da stopped swaying.  Kirk knew what that meant.  He prepared for an indignant negative remark from the Medari female, but was taken by surprise by her next comments.

 

     “Vibrations?  That is most upsetting.  I have given no one the authority or ability to alter the planet’s energy.  It can only mean that there is someone acting without my knowledge or approval.  Have you been contacted by any other Medari…specifically, any other female Medari?”

 

     “Yes, we were in contact with a female Medari by the name of I’Ry’No.  Do you know her?  She was also at the Assembly Hall meeting.  When you say…”

 

     Without another word, communications with I’Ry’Da ended.  The star-filled screen appeared and it seemed that the entire Bridge crew groaned.  Kirk knew before he turned what Uhura would say. 

 

     The Medari had once again cut communications…and the Enterprise was once again left to play the waiting game.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

      Darkness.  Sarek was stunned by the complete lack of sensation that greeted him in the meld.  There was no presence…no welcoming blanket of tenderness he had grown used to over the years.  No.  This was cold and empty.  It just couldn’t be…

 

     //Sarek.  You must focus past the emptiness.  It is disquieting, but if we are to be successful, you must focus.//

 

     The words of the Healer forced him to look past the loss of what had been.  It was time to reclaim his wife’s consciousness in any conceivable way.

 

     **Healer, how am I to proceed?  When shall I begin the presentation of my memories after the explosion?**

 

     //First, we must have an indication of T’sai Amanda’s existence.  I would suggest an attempt at contact from you.//

 

     He had already pondered what words would draw Amanda out of the desolate place she was immersed in.  Without a doubt, it would have to be something that would pull her out…perhaps even astonish her.  His initial thought was to reveal that he was being investigated for her damaged state, but that might only make her feel guilty.  Or amuse her.  Sarek felt a perplexed wave sweep over him.

 

     //Why would your wife be amused by the investigation?//

 

     **It is difficult to explain.  She knows that I did nothing wrong; therefore, the sheer absurdity of the position I find myself in might cause her some amusement.  It is a human characteristic to find amusement in even the most solemn of situations.**  He hoped that the Healer would accept the explanation. 

 

     What could he possibly say?  A random thought occurred to him, but it was not a confirmed event.  Could he stoop to latent deceit?  There might not be much time left.  The longer he delayed, the further his wife might be slipping away.  It was time to take action.

 

     **Amanda.  T’hy’la.  Listen to me.  Our meld was temporarily disrupted.  I believe that it was severed due to our review of the explosion on Medaris.  If this affected us, what must Spock be going through?  The Enterprise is possibly still in orbit around the planet.  I am most concerned about his condition.  I am positive that you are also worried about his state.  We need to conclude the meld.**

 

     The darkness didn’t diminish immediately, but there did seem to be an almost imperceptible lessening of the blackness that had been surrounding them.  Sarek wanted more, but the darkness continued.

 

     //You must try again.  Two point three seconds ago, there was a flash of a sentient presence, but it is gone.  I cannot offer any suggestions.//

 

     **Amanda.  We must return to the meld at the point of the explosion.  You and Spock lived through it.  You know that I would never lie to you.  I should have told you from the beginning that you both required resuscitation, but I could not.  My cowardly actions have now led to this.  Perhaps you were right forty three point seven years ago…perhaps you should not have married me.**

 

     A bizarre flash from an unknown life force was detected, then just a quickly disappeared.  While trying to analyze what had just happened, a dazzling spark of light struck out, causing him to nearly pull away.  It receded just as quickly, but not before he sensed his wife…and her message.

 

     [[How could you say that?  I never said such a thing!]]

 

     //Sarek, begin. //

 

     **But… **

 

     //Begin NOW. //

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “NO!  You have proven nothing to us!  Nothing!”  The furious Medari leaned in toward Sarek as he stood his ground.  The swarm of Federation diplomats and angry Medari seemed to be closing in.  He had long ago accustomed himself to the sudden shift in the political climate of any gathered group.  But to go from complete agreement the night before to this was unforeseen.  Just as he prepared to reassure the Medari again of the intentions of the Federation, a blinding light pierced the room.

 

     The accompanying rumble shook the Hall, and immediately chaos ruled.  Both Medari and Federation members seemed frightened and confused, fighting to find the best way out of the Assembly Hall.  Sarek turned to where he expected Amanda and Spock to be.  No one was there. 

 

     “Emergency beam-up!  Priority One!”  A Federation security guard had, without warning or permission, grabbed Sarek’s arm.

 

     “Stop!  Wait!  I must…” 

 

     The rest of the Ambassador’s sentence was lost in the transporter beam.  His next cognizant moment was on board the U.S.S. Ben Smith…without his wife or son.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     The Captain leaned back in his command chair, the fingers of his right hand striking an agitated beat against the arm console.  He examined the blank screen in front of him, the tapping the only sound heard on the Bridge above the usual buzz.  With an aggravated grunt, he rose and walked over to the rail near the Science station.

 

     “Sir, I can try the hail again…” Uhura’s inquiry was cut short by the Captain’s raised palm.

 

     “No…not yet.  Maybe I’m misreading the Medari, but my impression is that I’Ry’Da is angry about the interference we’ve been experiencing.  I’m going to give her some time before we attempt another contact.  Mr. Chekov, what can you tell me about the energy sources on Medaris?”

 

     Chekov, who had been acting Science Officer since Spock’s unanticipated illness, wordlessly scanned the planet again before answering.

 

     “Mr. Spock’s research indicates only basic energy sources…certainly nothing out of the ordinary.  The Medari do have a power grid in place along with the capability to produce weapons, but their technology lags behind ours by at least a century.  Further scans only confirm that fact.  I know there has to be something more there, especially after what the Medari female said about the planet’s energy.”

 

     “Exactly!” Kirk’s fist pounded into his open palm.  “There has to be something…but what?  It could be some type of psychic power, but how does the planet come into play?  Now, on top of everything else, we’re embroiled in a power struggle, and it’s one in which I’m not sure whom to support.  The Medari Governor apparently has no idea about the contacts we’ve been receiving from the surface.  He seems to be almost insignificant.  Both I’Ry’No and I’Ry’Da were at the Assembly Hall meeting.  What about the third Medari female in the vid?  I wonder if it’s just a matter of time before we hear from her.”  Kirk grimaced at the thought.  Why not?  Everyone else was contacting them.

 

     “No, sir.  I don’t believe you’ll have to worry about contact from the other female.”  Chekov quickly checked the information on a nearby screen.  “Her name was I’Ry’Si, and she was accused along with three other Medari of being the instigator of the bombing.  According to the information available, they were all executed for their roles.”

 

     “But remember, Mr. Chekov, the Medari don’t look upon death the same way we do.  How do we know that they were really executed?  They seem to interchange the words ‘life’ and ‘death’ without any reservations.  The way in which I’Ry’Da stopped swaying when I told her about the vibrations and the fact that she was ‘killed’ in the bombing makes me believe that she’s more than likely on our side.  She’s also the Medari with the power.  After all, she said that she had given no one the authority to use the planet’s energy, implying that she should have been informed.”  The Captain leaned back against the railing as he once again studied the starry screen.  He wanted to believe that I’Ry’Da was on their side: if she was, then he hoped that she was acting on their behalf to prevent any further ‘warnings’.  Maybe it was time to play another hunch.  With any luck, it would work as well as Uhura’s hail.

 

     “Mr. Sulu, re-establish orbit around Medaris.  Look sharp, people.”

 

     “Aye, sir.”  The crew tensed as they prepared to return to Medaris.

 

     Within seconds, the planets multihued surface was beneath them again.  With no indication of any extraordinary events about to take place, Kirk went to the turbo lift doors.

 

     “Mr. Sulu, you have the Bridge.  I’ll be in Sickbay.”

 

     Once inside the turbo lift, the Captain pressed his back against the wall and exhaled sharply.  Now that they had re-established orbit without incident, he could take a moment to reflect.  He was grateful that Bones hadn’t called to say that there was yet another medical emergency taking place.  It had been bad enough the first time.  As he walked down the corridor toward Sickbay, he again speculated about the power struggle.  Dumping the planet’s problems on the Suhl diplomats couldn’t come soon enough for him, but there was still the issue of safety.  Hopefully, Bones would have some answers about the cause of his First Officer’s coma.

 

     Sickbay was quiet except for the electronic din of the monitors.  Kirk paused as he once again checked the monitor readings above his friend’s head.  It didn’t appear to show any changes from earlier.  McCoy came in just as he turned toward the office.

 

     “Jim, the good news is it’s not Irisine Syndrome.  The bad news is I still have no diagnosis.  He’s still stabilized…have we gone back into orbit?”

 

     “Yes.  I’m hoping to get some answers soon.  We’ve had additional contact from another of the Assembly Hall Medari.  This time, it was the Medari female that we thought had died in the blast by the name of I’Ry’Da.”

 

     McCoy scowled.  “Well, I’d say that the Medari death list is useless.  I’m still convinced that they know what’s happening with Spock.  Are you thinking about beaming down?”

 

     The Captain leaned against a bed next to the presently occupied one.  His pensive mood lasted only a moment.  Pushing away, he paced in a slow, deliberate manner and began to nod.  “Yes, I’m thinking about it.  The funniest thing about all of this is the fact that I’m convinced that the danger is over.  Call it a gut feeling, but as soon as I’Ry’Da cut off communications, the first thought I had was that we would be safe now.  Strange…”

 

     “Yeah, I’d say strange, especially since…hey, now.  What’s this?”  The Doctor was studying the monitor above Spock’s head.  Alarmed, Kirk raced over to the edge of the bed as McCoy began to adjust a hypo.  Pressing it against the Vulcan’s arm, he then grabbed the neural scanner.

 

     “Bones, what’s wrong?”

 

     “Nothing, Jim.  As Spock would say, this is fascinating.  All indicators point to the fact that he’s no longer in a comatose state.  Once again, it’s almost instantaneous.  He should be coming around any minute.”  McCoy re-checked the scanner and prepared another hypo.  With the second hypo administered, the Doctor stepped back to see what effect it would have.  The Captain almost laughed.

 

     “Afraid he’ll come out of it swinging?”

 

     McCoy harrumphed at the suggestion.  “No, but I know he’ll be whining about how the meds have upset his delicate Vulcan constitution.  I gave him a pretty strong dose.  Drives me crazy to think that I save his sorry hide and all he’ll do is find something to gripe about.”  At a slight stirring from the bed, both men watched as Spock gradually opened his eyes.

 

     “Welcome back to the land of the living…or the dead, depending on your viewpoint.”  Kirk grinned at the slightly confused look on his First Officer’s face.  McCoy handed him a glass of water.

 

     “Here, take a sip.  This should help clear your throat.  Feeling parched is one of the side effects of the cordrazine.  I should know.” Spock took the glass, and after a moment, handed it back to the Doctor.

 

     “Thank you,” he hoarsely responded, then cleared his throat.  “Yes, I would say that the cordrazine does cause that particular side effect, among others.”  McCoy gave Kirk a ‘see, what did I tell you’ look.

 

     “Well, I’ll remember that the next time I save your life.  I mean…I would hate to think that I upset you.”  McCoy’s expression told a different story.

 

     “Indeed, Doctor.  May I inquire as to how I arrived in Sickbay in the first place?  The last memory I have is of being on the Bridge.”

 

     Kirk and McCoy exchanged startled glances as the Doctor responded.  “You mean you don’t remember walking in here earlier?  You came here without any assistance.”

 

     Spock’s blank look confirmed his answer before he spoke.  “No.  I have no memory past the conversation that the Captain and I were having about the warning.”

 

     For the moment, the Captain opted to ignore his friend’s memory lapse.  As Kirk filled Spock in on the events since the last tremor, the Doctor watched with satisfaction as the monitor readouts registered a normal pattern.  The split second changes that occurred in the Vulcan’s condition weren’t lost on him, however.  He wasn’t about to relax and believe everything was just fine.

 

     “Doctor, may I be released from your services?  I would be interested in joining the Captain’s landing party.”  Kirk knew what to expect…the Doctor actually twitched.

 

     “WHAT?  Are you crazy?  For your information, First Officer, you were in no condition just a few minutes ago to even carry on this conversation.  And earlier, you were only fit to be rolled into the morgue!  Now, you want to go beaming down to the planet where all of our troubles started?  My answer, in case you haven’t already figured it out, is no.  Hell no.  Absolutely not.  You ain’t going nowhere.  Period.”

 

     “Bones, relax.  We’re only going to beam down if invited.  Also, if you think about it, whether Spock is here or on the planet doesn’t really matter.  The Medari seem capable of exerting their power from any distance.”

 

     “I only ask to join the landing party for that reason, Doctor,” Spock replied, his tone thoughtful, “The notion of being under the influence of an outside force is highly distasteful.  I wish to be released from their control…perhaps for the first time since the original contact with Medaris.”  Spock’s disquieting statement hung in the air for a few moments.  McCoy finally broke the silence.

 

     “Look, Spock.  I understand your desire to get some answers.  I only meant to say that you might not be fully recovered from the coma.  You’ve already admitted to memory lapses.  Give yourself a chance to heal before you go racing off to get into more trouble.” McCoy pointed a finger at the Captain.  “And that included you, too, Jim.  Beaming down to Medaris will likely trigger even more attacks.”

 

     “Bones, I appreciate your concern, but as I said, it doesn’t matter where we are.  What matters is that we talk to the right Medari to bring an end to this.  I’d like a permanent moratorium on attacks against any Federation member, not just Spock.  I’m ready to hand this planet over to the Suhl diplomats, but I want some reassurances that they won’t be attacked in a similar fashion as occurred at the Assembly Hall.  I’Ry’Da just might be the key to ending the attacks and providing us with some much needed information.”

 

     The shrill comm signal disrupted the conversation.  “Bridge to Sickbay.”

 

     The Doctor responded.  “McCoy here, Mr. Sulu.  What is it?”

 

     “Sir, is the Captain there?”  The tension in the navigator’s voice wasn’t lost on the men.

 

     “Kirk here.  Sulu, what’s going on?”

 

     “Captain, we have been contacted once again by the Medari.  They have requested a meeting on the planet’s surface with certain personnel present…most notably the ‘infant’.”

 

     “Understood, Mr. Sulu.  I’m preparing a landing party now.  Kirk out.”

 

     The Captain and Doctor couldn’t help but grin at Spock, who had folded his arms across his chest.  “The Medari inclination for using that label is exasperating,” the Vulcan concluded.  

 

      McCoy chuckled.  “Yeah, well, maybe someday you’ll grow up.  Hey, now, wait a minute,” he added as the Vulcan began to stand, “I haven’t released you from Sickbay.” 

 

     Both Spock and Kirk exchanged a look that the Doctor immediately recognized.  That look could only mean one thing.

 

     “Bones, since you’re so worried about Spock’s condition, I’m including you in the landing party.  Will that satisfy your ‘mother hen’ instinct?”

 

     The Doctor glowered at them.  “Not really, but I guess my opinion doesn’t really count, now, does it?  Fine, let’s go get into a deeper mess.  I have nothing better to do than visit a planet whose color scheme seems to be the result of a cat throwing up a box of crayons.”

 

     Kirk ignored the obvious sarcasm.  “Good.  Let’s go.”

 

     “Crayons, Doctor?’  The Captain heard Spock’s obvious puzzlement.  He shook his head as he listened to McCoy’s rejoinder as they left Sickbay.

 

     “Yeah, crayons.  You really had a deprived childhood, didn’t you?  You mean to tell me that you never colored before?  Well, let me explain…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

      “Release my arm.”

 

     Sarek resisted the urge to pull away from the security officer.  It took him a moment to realize that even if he tried, he might not be successful in extracting his arm from the human.  The enormous man’s grip was such that even with his Vulcan strength, he would be hard pressed to break away.

 

     “Yes, sir.  My apologies, sir,” the guard said.  Now freed, Sarek stepped off the transporter pad and moved promptly to the comm unit to open a channel.

 

     “Ambassador Sarek to Captain Weirson.”

 

     “Sir?  What are you doing back aboard?  Wasn’t there a meeting of some sort?”

 

     “There has been an explosion inside the Great Hall.  All Federation members are to be evacuated immediately.  Medical personnel are essential and shall beam down to treat those injured by the blast.  Inform the Medari government of our actions, as we will not tolerate any interference with the removal of our people.  The shuttle will need to be flown to the emergency rendezvous location.  Illumination of the path to the shuttle is essential due to the late hour.”  He carefully considered what other possible actions were vital as the Captain answered.

 

     “Yes, sir.  The Medical team should be there momentarily.  We’ll beam up the most seriously injured.  The rest should make their way to the emergency evacuation point.  Sir, do you know how many have been injured or if there have been any fatalities?”

 

     “Unknown.  Inform the Governor that I will speak with him about this deed.”  Sarek stepped back as a small, but well organized, group rushed into the transporter room.  The apparent leader of the team was shouting out orders.

 

     “Only beam up those unable to reach the shuttle!  Stabilize them, and then request to beam up.  Don’t waste time!  Come on, people!”  The hum of the transporter took them even as the man continued to address his team.  Additional medical personnel had arrived to await the injured.  The comm unit came back to life with a squeal that caused the Ambassador to wince.

 

     “Captain Weirson to Ambassador Sarek.  Sir, we have been contacted by the Medari Governor.  He urgently wishes to speak with you.”  Before he could respond, the very high-pitched voice of the Medari diplomat filled the room.

 

     “Ah, Ambassador!  What a horrific tragedy!  We are so ashamed!  Please be assured that those responsible will be punished!  Ah…” The melodramatic berating would have continued if Sarek hadn’t interrupted.

 

     “Governor I’ky’lo, there is no time for such denigration.  I have ordered the immediate evacuation of the Federation diplomatic party.  I am confident that there will be no interference with our medical personnel assisting the injured.”

 

     “Of course not!  We are stunned by this diabolical act and shall cooperate in any way possible.”

 

     “Very well.  It is imperative that the safety of our people be ensured.  Will there be a need for additional security personnel?”

 

     “No.  I shall personally guarantee the Federation members safe departure from our planet.  Ah, this is horrible!  Horrible!”

 

     “Indeed.  No act of terrorism is without its victims, whether in personal loss, trust, or both.  We shall maintain an open line of communication with you, Governor.”

 

     “Yes.  Very well.  Whatever you need, Ambassador.”  The conversation ended just as Sarek heard the hum of the transporter being activated.  The first of the injured had arrived.  There was a great deal of moaning coming from several people; but, from his vantage point, none of the injuries appeared to be life threatening.  In fact, only one person had to be moved by stretcher off the transporter pad.

 

     He felt a momentary flash of relief since Amanda and Spock had not been among those first to arrive.  Sarek was certain that they had evacuated the Hall and were now making their way to the shuttle.  Amanda knew well the evacuation plans.  Since she was like so many humans in her distrust of the transporter, he had no doubt that she would be on the shuttle.  If there had been any injury to his wife, he was certain he would know.  The comforting presence of their marital bond was still in place: there was nothing for him to do but anticipate their arrival.  Distance prevented any possible telepathic contact, but it was not necessary.  Several minutes passed as the injured were led away to the infirmary.

 

     “Mr. Ambassador.  We have just received word that the shuttle is away.”  The powerfully built security officer who had been his ‘rescuer’ handed him a padd.  Quickly scanning it, he paused…then scanned it again.  Fifty-seven people were on the long-range shuttlecraft, a larger vehicle than their usual shuttle transport.  Seven had been beamed up.  That meant that eight people were still unaccounted for…including his wife and son.

 

     The Medari had insisted on a large assemblage to convene with them even though, in the Ambassador’s opinion, it was not necessary.  He understood that it was ‘just for show’ and had agreed to allow a number of junior diplomats the opportunity to observe the negotiations due to the benign Medari desire for membership.  The trip to Medaris had nearly been considered a training mission by some of the senior staff.  Sarek knew that it had been that blasé attitude that had contributed to his decision to allow Amanda and Spock to travel with him.  His wife’s insistence that she needed a ‘change of scenery’ had seemed illogical to him; however, after consulting with one of the few Human doctors on Vulcan, he had changed his mind.  Perhaps a trip off-planet would be conducive to a more positive alteration of her recent behavior.

 

     Looking back, he knew he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be so easily swayed.  If only Amanda hadn’t insisted.  True, it would have infuriated her and led to some emotional outburst, but it was his duty as Husband and Father to protect his family.  And now…

 

     “Mr. Ambassador, the final group is beaming up.”

 

     Sarek gazed intently as the persons on the pad coalesced into solid form.  The two junior diplomats walked off the pad under their own power, followed by the Medical team.

 

     “Well, sir, that’s it.  All of our people have been evacuated from the Hall.”  The Ambassador ignored the assurance of the team leader as he folded his hands in front of him and stared intently at the now vacant transporter pad.

 

     “You are mistaken, Mr….”

 

     “Mr. Carson, sir.”

 

     “There are still six Federation members on the planet, Mr. Carson, presumably in the Hall.”  Sarek considered another possibility.  “Have the villas been checked and cleared?  It is possible that some of our people may not have gone to the meeting.”

 

     “We were just getting ready to do that, sir.”

 

     As a Security team prepared to beam down to inspect the villas, Sarek felt a distinct sense of annoyance.  Was it possible that Amanda had simply come to the Assembly Hall, and then turned around and left?  Of course, she may have taken his son back to the villa for a perfectly logical reason; however, considering her recent deportment toward him, he doubted it.  Yes, that had to the scenario that had transpired.  He would have to remind her yet again of her responsibilities.  Since their arrival on Vulcan from Earth, Amanda’s actions had grown more and more erratic.  He was not going to tolerate it.  She would conform.

 

     The squeal of the comm unit interrupted his thoughts.  “Mr. Ambassador.  We have thoroughly checked the villas and have found two people.  They are beaming aboard now.”

 

     Sarek could feel his displeasure growing as he considered what Amanda had done.  There was to be no mistake about his condemnation of her defiance.  While he was relieved that they were not in the Hall at the time of the explosion, he would not allow such haughty disregard for his wishes.

 

     As the forms solidified, the Ambassador quickly realized he would not be dealing with his wife…at least, not immediately.  The young man and woman now aboard were recognized as fairly recent additions to the diplomatic corp.  Judging from their state of undress, it was apparent that they had found something other than the meeting to occupy their time.

 

     Red-faced, they bolted out of the transporter room followed by the snickers of the Medical team.  Sarek considered his next move.  There were now four people unaccounted for.

 

     “Mr. Ambassador, sir.  We have thoroughly checked both the villas and the Hall.  The evacuation should be complete.”

 

     “There are still four people missing, Mr. Carson.  Request a recount of the people on the shuttle.  It is possible that a mistake has been made.”

 

     Waiting for word of the recount only took a few minutes.  There had been no mistake.  Sarek caught up to the Medical team leader just as he was leaving the transporter room.

 

     “Mr. Carson, was there any indication of activity from the Medari in the Hall that might be construed as unusual?  Perhaps they have taken the four missing people to their own medical facilities.”  Sarek noticed that while the leader slowly shook his head, a young woman behind him who was gathering up several tricorders listened intently.  She cleared her throat before speaking.

 

     “Mr. Carson, what about all of the blood near the front of the Hall?”

 

     Both Sarek and Carson focused their attention on the woman.  The team leader appeared to be infuriated that she had spoken at all as he answered.

 

     “Miss Glenn, I’m sure that the blood comes from the injured already beamed aboard.  Don’t worry about it, Mr. Ambassador.  There will, no doubt, be an accounting of all Federation members.  Those four might have slipped past us somehow.”

 

     “Highly unlikely, Mr. Carson.”  The Ambassador considered what should now be done.  Where could his wife and son be?  Why had Amanda left the Hall?  There was one way to find out; however, logic strongly discouraged such a rash act.

 

     “Would it be possible for me to beam down to the Hall?  I shall, of course, request a full security sweep prior to my arrival.”  A voice from behind quelled his thought.

 

     “Absolutely not.” 

 

     Sarek recognized the voice immediately.  Sennar had served for many years as Chief Advisor for his father, Skon.  As he entered the transporter room, Sarek noticed that the elder Vulcan was moving slowly and favoring his right leg.

 

     “Were you injured, sir?”

 

     Sennar fixed the younger man with a hard look. 

 

     “Obviously.  Did you not notice that I was among the first to arrive?  Why would you request to beam down to the Great Hall while such danger exists?  That is pure folly.”  Sarek rapidly considered his responses.  There did not seem to be any that would plausibly fit.

 

     “Amanda and Spock are missing, along with two other diplomats: Chen Li and Ursula Driscott.  There is the possibility that they were wounded and were transported to a Medari facility.  I…”

 

     “Does your wife not know the evacuation plans?”  The miniscule emphasis on the word ‘wife’ was not lost on Sarek.

 

     “Amanda is familiar with the plans, and would have followed them…if she could.  That is why I believe that there is the chance that she or my son may be injured.”

 

     “You are the Ambassador.  Logically, you are the prime target.  Why do you suppose you are here now?  Certainly, it is vital that all of our people be evacuated, but you are not to beam down.  Your loss would be devastating.  It has been difficult enough to adjust to the loss of your Father.”

 

     “I do not believe that the loss of any life is any less devastating.”  Sarek watched the elder man’s jaw line twitch ever so slightly.  Although his Father had depended on Sennar’s experience and wisdom, Sarek had found the man to be most disagreeable, especially in his attitude toward Sarek’s recent ascension to Ambassador.  The elder Vulcan’s disapproval of his personal life was also well known.  Sennar turned to the Transporter Chief.

 

     “He is not to beam down under any circumstances.  Is that understood?”  As the Chief nodded, Sennar left.  Sarek exhaled as his thoughts raced.  What could be done now?  He could override the order; however, Sennar was correct in his assessment of the situation.  He should not beam down.

 

     “Sir?”  The forgotten security officer’s baritone voice nearly startled the Vulcan.  Turning, the Ambassador waited for the man’s question.

 

     “Sir, your wife and son are still planet side?”

 

     “Yes, I believe so.”  Sarek appraised the man before him.  The security officer equaled his height, but probably outweighed him by at least thirty kilos.  The dark featured man’s vigilant mannerisms gave him an air of authority.  His ebony eyes locked onto the Vulcan’s equally dark eyes.  Sarek was uncertain what the man saw, but the human suddenly began to walk rapidly toward the door.

 

     “Follow me, sir.”  As the security officer exited the transporter room, Sarek hesitated.  Had the man been ordered to escort him to his quarters on board ship?  He would not put it past Sennar to post a guard on him.

 

     Once outside of the transporter room, the officer stopped and stood at attention in front of the Ambassador.  “Sir, there is another way to get down to the planet’s surface.  Near the Engineering Department, there is an auxiliary transporter room.  It looks like it hasn’t been used in a long time; in fact, it’s almost become a storage closet.  Still, I should be able to divert power long enough to beam down two people…if you’re interested.”

 

     Sarek weighed his options.  Logically, he should wait for the shuttle to arrive; but, if Amanda or Spock was injured, time was of the essence.  The young woman’s comment about the blood in the front of the hall troubled him.  He hadn’t seen any injuries that would account for a copious loss of blood.

 

     “I cannot beam down.  As the Ambassador…” Sarek hesitated as he recognized the words of Sennar that he was about to repeat.  The Ambassadorship was his chosen path…it was the path he had been preparing for his entire life.  Logically, he would choose a similar path for his son.  It was the correct way; however, was it not of tantamount importance that he now try to locate his son and wife?  He understood that his position as Ambassador made him vulnerable to attack, but could he simply wait for word?  Logically, he should.  There were others more qualified to search for them.  If some harm had befallen them…no.  He would know.  He was positive that he would know…and yet…

 

     “Let us go to the auxiliary transporter room.”

 

     The officer was right in his description of the room.  It was tiny, with only enough room for a maximum of two or three people.  As the man worked to divert power to the transporter board, Sarek asked the question that had disturbed him since they left the main transporter room.

 

     “Would you tell me why you are assisting me, Mister…?"

 

     “Mr. Oaks, sir.  Jared Oaks.  Sir, if you’ll step up to the pad…”

 

     Sarek moved onto the pad just as he heard the slight whine from the manipulated board.  Oaks ran to his spot, and then replied in a deferential tone.

 

     “I have a wife and two children back on Earth.  This is what I’d be doing.”

 

     Their figures disappeared in the golden sparkle of the transporter beam.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “…And last but not least, we were invited by those overgrown, sea-monster looking creatures.  ‘Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly’.  Personally, if I wanted to go to a Sushi bar, I’d go to Japan.  And none of this worries either of you?” 

 

     From the moment they had left Sickbay, the Doctor had been giving them every possible reason as to why beaming down was a ludicrous idea…after first explaining to the First Officer the finer points of staying in between the lines while coloring.  The Captain sighed.

 

     “Bones, you did agree to release Spock from Sickbay.”

 

     “Against my better judgment!  If those Medari decide to pull the plug on him again, there’s not a hell of a lot I can do about it.  So, I’ve packed everything but the kitchen sink in my med bag.”  He continued to talk even as Kirk consulted with Mr. Kyle about the coordinates.  “Also, whom are we supposed to be meeting with, anyway?  I vote for the Governor.  You know, the guy with the official channels.”

 

     “Doctor,” Spock intoned as he checked the charge on his phaser, “You seem to be convinced that we shall encounter a perilous situation should we beam down.  On what do you base your hypothesis?  Our last encounter while on the planet was not objectionable.”  McCoy raised an eyebrow as he threw up his arms.

 

     “Sure!  You only found out that you and your Mother died!  That was then, I know.  Still, we now know that they have got some kind of control over you.  Why do you want to beam down?  The effect will probably be worse planet side.  Why do they want us to beam down?  Easier targets…that’s what I think.”

 

     “Gentlemen.  We’re the three that the Medari have asked to speak with, and we will be meeting with the Governor.  Hope that settles your nerves, Bones.”

 

     “Nope.  My gut feeling, unlike yours, is that we’re jumping out of the frying pan and right into the fire.”  The Doctor halfheartedly joined the other two officers on the transporter pad.

 

     “Energize, Mr. Kyle.”

 

     The sparkle of the beam took them from the ship and seconds later, their figures solidified on the terrace of the Governor’s villa.  As they got their bearings, McCoy took in a sharp breath and pointed toward the entryway of the residence.  Kirk and Spock whirled around to observe four Medari moving toward them, including a female Medari wearing orange.  McCoy murmured practically to himself.

 

     “I knew it.”

 

     The Captain had moved his hand down to his phaser and noticed out of the corner of his eye that his First Officer was mirroring his action.

 

     “Captain, the Medari female is I’Ry’No.  I do not believe the Governor is here.”  Spock’s assessment of the situation was met with silence, until Kirk’s low voice carried over to McCoy.

 

     “You knew what, Bones.”

 

     “I knew this day would come.  My gut feeling finally beat yours.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     As soon as the transport was complete, the first thought that struck Sarek was how incredibly cold and dark it was on the planet.  The outside of the Hall was still lit, but there was no one about, and the silence was broken only by the sibilant rustling of the gardens in the frigid night air.  Jared Oaks had put his hand on his phaser and was quickly evaluating the situation…and once again, Sarek felt the pull of his diplomatic responsibilities.  Beaming down was foolish.  Once Sennar and the other senior representatives from Vulcan discovered his illogical action, he would be reprimanded…perhaps even replaced.  He should have waited for the shuttle to arrive.  Shivering, he wrapped his outer cloak closer around him.  Surely, Amanda and his son could not be out here. 

 

     “Sir, it appears that the Hall is vacant.  We can begin our search there.  Sir?”  Oaks waited for the Vulcan to speak, but the Ambassador seemed lost in thought.  “Sir?”

 

     “Yes, we shall begin the search in the Hall.”  Sarek began to move toward the entryway, but turned when he heard the brusque, coughing sound that emitted from the security officer.  Oaks had stopped and observed Sarek’s seemingly lackluster interest in the search, and the temper of the young officer flared in response to the hesitation he sensed.

 

     “Sir, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem to want to find them.  I mean…” Sarek turned his full attention on the human before him. 

 

     “Your assessment is incorrect, Mr. Oaks.  I do want to find them, but…this…” Sarek paused as he considered the correct phrasing.  “…This directly violates my very nature.  My Vulcan background and training are such that I find it nearly impossible to disobey the edict of a direct order.  One does not beam down to a potentially dangerous location under any circumstance.  Personal concerns are to be put aside.  I should have waited for the Federation security team to search for them.  They are better qualified and better equipped to offer assistance, if that is what is needed.” 

 

     Anger surged through the security officer as he reached down and pulled out his communicator.  He tossed it to the Ambassador.

 

     “Here.  Call the Ben Smith and let them know that you’re beaming back up.  I thought I had read you right, but I guess not.  I’ll go look for them.  Go.”  The furious man stormed toward the Hall.

 

     Sarek held the communicator in his hand, turning it to the control panel.  It would be the correct thing to do.  He should leave.  It would be the logical thing to do.

 

     “Wait.”

 

     Sarek quickened his step until he had caught up to Oaks.  They now stood at the front entrance of the Hall.  Oaks stared at the door for a moment, purposefully avoiding the Ambassador’s gaze as Sarek attempted to hand back the communicator.

 

     “Mr. Oaks, I will not be contacting the ship.  You have obviously misinterpreted my objective.  We cannot leave without our people, and we will not.”  He also stared at the ornate door in front of them and waited for a reply.

 

     Oaks exhaled, his breath visible in the frigid atmosphere.  “Is your career that important?  More so than your wife and son?”

 

     “No.  We shall find them.  I am not used to the lack of control presented under these circumstances.  If there were someone to speak with…some situation to mediate…but to simply act in such a spontaneous, impulsive way is difficult for me.  I am honor bound to proceed in a way that is proper by the definition of my House and Clan; however; I have broken with tradition in the past, and I suspect that I shall do so again in the future.  I am beginning to sense a rather divergent pattern emerging when it comes to matters of family…my family.”

 

     Oaks glanced over at the Ambassador and had the same feeling that he did when they had stood in the transporter room.  He relaxed and grinned.

 

     “Yeah, tradition.  I’m guessing here, but I don’t believe that Amanda is a Vulcan name.  Why don’t we go find them, beam back up, and then the two of us can try to find new employment; that is, unless they just take and throw me in the brig and you get busted back to a diplomatic aide position…junior grade.  Also, if you don’t mind, just call me Jared.”  Sarek raised an eyebrow at the smiling man.

 

     “Since it does not appear that the official diplomatic title of Ambassador will be mine for much longer, you may call me Sarek.  If your supposition proves to be correct, I shall, at least, have a job.  Let us go in.”

 

     The heavy doors swung open to reveal the near empty meeting area.  There was some movement near the front of the hall, and as they entered, Oaks drew his phaser and held it waist high as he and the Ambassador walked through the debris and clutter left by the evacuation.  Two Medari were swaying near the front of the hall near an exit.

 

     As they approached, Sarek and Jared could plainly see that they were cleaning a large area on the floor.  There were no other people present: no other Federation members or Medari.  The nearly two meter wide area the Medari mopped appeared to be stained a dark crimson shade.  Sarek and Jared abruptly stopped as they took in the implication of the discolored floor.

 

     It had to be the epicenter of the explosion.  There was little to indicate the type of weapon used, but Sarek’s belief was that it was a highly concentrated, limited range bomb.  There was only about a four-meter wide area with evidence of the scorch marks from the blast.  It would also match the injuries of those on board the Ben Smith.  Whoever had been there, based on the blood evidence, had been seriously injured…perhaps mortally so.  It was Human blood; however, near one section of the stained area was a darker smear…as if something else had come in contact with the red blood on the floor.  There was a possibility that floated into his thoughts, but Sarek immediately suppressed it.  No, if some injury had occurred to either Amanda or Spock, he would know.  He would.  The strange purplish-black stain that was currently being removed from the small area of the floor was likely the result of some liquid that had been spilled during the evacuation.  It could not be from some other blood…

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Weapons drawn, the three Starfleet officers watched with growing apprehension the approach of the Medari.  Kirk aimed his phaser directly at I’Ry’No, and the four Medari swayed to a stop.  The Captain spoke in an authoritative tone spiked with just a hint of annoyance.

 

     “We were invited to meet with the Governor.  Where is he?”

 

     “He is no longer in charge here, Captain,” replied I’Ry’No.  “His actions very nearly led to the discovery of our vast resources.  We cannot allow that to happen.  My sister has been forced to execute him.”

 

     Kirk had a sinking feeling as he prepared for the worst.  “Executed by your sister?  Who might that be?  I’Ry’Si, the Medari that was supposedly executed?”

 

     “No, Captain,” came a voice from the villa entrance, “I am the sister, although I’Ry’Si was also a dear sister to me.” 

 

     The three officers stared in amazement as I’Ry’Da moved to stand next to her sister, I’Ry’No.  The two Medari began to sway in an identical fashion that was close to hypnotic.

 

     “We must protect what is ours,” whispered I’Ry’Da in the silence that now encompassed the terrace. 

 

     Spock glanced at the Captain, who nodded his approval to speak.

 

     “I’Ry’Da, why was the Governor executed?  You said it was to protect your resources; however, our scans have not revealed any mineral wealth on the planet.  Would you tell us what is so valuable that lives are to be sacrificed to keep it secret?”

 

     I’Ry’No answered in a comparable whispery tone her sister had used.

 

     “He threatened to grant our gifts to off-worlders.  That cannot be allowed.  It was only done twice in the past, and it cost us our sister.  We tried to prevent it at that time, to no avail.  We will continue to fight to protect our gifts.”

 

     “You say that you tried to prevent it previously.  Is that why the bombing occurred?  To prevent the Federation from discovering the ‘gifts’?”  Spock turned toward I’Ry’Da.

“Did you know about the bombing prior to the actual event?”

 

     I’Ry’Da stopped swaying and seemed to weave her tentacles in an elaborate pattern.  A low rumbling tremor could be felt, and the three officers braced themselves; but, just as quickly, it ended.  I’Ry’Da then responded to the First Officer’s questions.

 

     “The bombing was originally planned to show the power of our ‘gifts’.  We do not wish to be used in such a way; therefore, we decided to change the scenario to attack the Federation members in such a way that great shame would befall the government officials.  They were not aware of our deception until it was too late.  By then, the four Federation members and I were dead.”  I’Ry’Da completely froze her motions and it seemed as if the air around them had suddenly taken on a menacing quiet.  It was her words, however, that put the men in icy shock.

 

     “Yes, infant.  I knew about the bombing.  It was my job to insure that you and your mother were within range.  The other two Federation members were killed to bring shame to the Governor.” 

 

     McCoy’s low, furious voice rang through the terrace.  “That must have been one hell of a proud moment for you…targeting a young mother and a baby, not to mention two other innocent lives.”

 

     “We targeted the Federation Ambassador’s wife and child, that is all!  None of them should have been there in the first place!  The Governor invited them then, just as the current Governor invited you now.  At the time of the explosion, the Governor was just as aware as my sisters and I of the bomb!  It was planned from the very beginning.”

 

     Kirk, Spock, and McCoy quickly exchanged surprised glances.  The Captain’s confusion was evident as he spoke.

 

     “Wait a minute.  The Governor at that time knew about the impending explosion, and did nothing to prevent it?  Why?  What was the scenario that was planned from the beginning?”

 

     I’Ry’No began her own intricate weaving pattern and the ground trembled underfoot.

 

     “Originally, there were only two targets.”  The Medari female turned toward the First Officer, and once again, her words stunned the officers. 

 

     “It was planned from the moment the USS Ben Smith entered orbit that you and your mother would die.  The Governor knew…we knew…”

 

     “…and your Father knew.”

 

        For several indeterminable seconds, the Enterprise landing party considered the stunning revelation that I'Ry'No had just handed to them. Spock finally broke the strained silence with an uncharacteristic lack of subtlety.

        "You are lying."

        Immediately, the First Officer's assessment sent the Medari into a frenzy of waving tentacles and motion. I'Ry'No began to shriek in an ear-splitting way that caused the Enterprise officers to step back and cover their ears.

        "How DARE you not believe us, infant! Governor I'ky'lo defied us by offering a demonstration of our gifts! The Ambassador accepted! He KNEW from the beginning that we would be used! Perhaps you don't know him as well as you think!" The continued frantic motions barely slowed as I'Ry'No began to advance toward Spock. Kirk swiftly leveled his phaser at the agitated Medari even as Spock drew and aimed his own weapon.

        "Stop right there! I don't know what you have in mind, but we need some answers before this escalates any further!" Kirk's tone left no doubt that he wouldn't think twice about firing. I'Ry'No finally slid to a stop at a point approximately two meters from the landing party. I'Ry'Da had not moved from her spot; instead, she initiated another bizarre weaving pattern. Once again, the trembling began.

        The tremor lasted for nearly ten seconds, and then faded. With an almost frustrated sound, I'Ry'Da ended all movements except for the gentle sway of her body. Both the Captain and the Doctor turned to Spock, who only raised an eyebrow to express his surprise. The resignation in I'Ry'Da's voice resonated through the terraced walls.

        "Questions? Very well. I will answer what I can since I cannot explain the loss of control." The three Starfleet officers once again exchanged wary glances as Kirk addressed the Medari.

        "So, do you have some kind of control over my First Officer or not? Why don't you know what has happened? I thought you two controlled everything on this planet?" The continued swaying surprised Kirk. He had expected I'Ry'Da to come to a standstill.

        "It is interesting. We control through the use of the gift, but something is wrong. We tried earlier to strike down the infant and the mother simultaneously, but it was an unsuccessful act. That was most distressing!"

        "The distance is great between us and the Mother," I'Ry'No lamented. "We know, my sister, that due to your conversation with the Ambassador, he has talked of the unspeakable and must be punished. But the distance..."

        "You spoke with my Father recently?" With each new turn in the conversation, Spock now expected no less from the Medari than to be astonished each time they spoke. The Medari had proven to be masters of revealing the most unexpected disclosures. I'Ry'Da answered with no indication of a change in her mood.

        "Yes. He inquired about the Enterprise and the Governor's contact with you. I mentioned the Assembly Hall vid and sent it to him with the warning that I'Ry'No gave to you. He said that he would speak with you, infant. Did he not?"

        The First Officer allowed a slight sigh. "Yes, but his message was...shall I say, somewhat vague. May I ask that you refer to me as either First Officer Spock or Spock? I have not been an infant for quite some time. How do you plan to implement this 'punishment' of which you speak? For our benefit, would you enlighten us as to the precise nature of the 'gift'?"

        I'Ry'No swayed back to stand next to I'Ry'Da. The two once again matched their movements in a gentle, reed-like way.

        "My sister, I'Ry'No, granted her gift to your mother. My dear sister I'Ry'Si granted her gift to you. I was forced to save my own life; therefore, I could not grant my gift to either of the other two Federation dead. I generally control all the power; however, when I'Ry'No explained that she was attempting to punish you and your mother, I understood. We must admit to being puzzled over the lack of control now.... ah, well. You asked of the punishment. If the gift had been given, then it could be removed. The life force of the one whom received the gift would be extinguished. They would be executed...never to live or die again. That is the threat we made to your father...after all, you and your mother have been given the gift."

        "So, let me get this straight," the Doctor countered. "The gift is when you grant the person back their life after they die."

        "No. The life force is restored to the body, but is only one part of the gift. Ah, Sister! That must be the reason for the sudden lack of control! The interruption!" I'Ry'Da seemed to be most pleased with her assessment as she swayed more rapidly. "During the restoration of the life force that occurred after the explosion, there was an interruption. Yes! That is what happened! You and your mother were removed from us too soon!"

        Spock's eyes narrowed at the strange statement. "Removed from you? I'Ry'Da, you must understand that we do not comprehend how your 'gift' works. Your sister said that my father knew of the impending explosion. I believe that there was a misunderstanding at the point the Governor offered a demonstration of the 'gift'. On many diplomatic missions, gifts are exchanged or talents of the local populace are highlighted. My father had no suspicion that the demonstration would involve our deaths. It would never have happened if he had known."

        I'Ry'Da slowed her movements. "He had to know! We were able to tell due to his actions just before and after the explosion. It is part of our way that we could tell."

        All three Starfleet officers unconsciously straightened. Kirk spoke for them. "How could you tell? Are you able to read our minds? I'Ry'Da, what was it that the Ambassador was thinking that led you to believe he was in agreement with such a heinous act?"

        "We can read your minds only ephemerally.  We can easily sense your emotions. We found the Ambassador most difficult to read initially, but then it became clear and we distinctly felt..."

        "Excuse me, I'Ry'Da," Spock interjected, "I must clarify one thing. Vulcans do not have emotions to read in such a way."

        McCoy only snorted slightly as the Captain cleared his throat. "Spock, I'm sure that whatever the Medari sensed was...well, minimum."

        "No," I'Ry'Da countered, "it was quite strong. The Ambassador was displeased, and even angry. Initially, we didn't think that the bombing would occur at all. Your Mother," I'Ry'Da turned to Spock, "refused to attend the meetings. It was most interesting to us that as we emphasized that we wished to meet with his wife and child, the Ambassador grew apprehensive. We sensed it. It was very telling to us when he insisted that you both attend the third meeting. He was complicit with the Governor's desire to reveal our gifts!"

        "I'Ry'Da..." Spock began, but was interrupted by the Captain.

        "Wait a minute, Spock. I'Ry'Da, the fact that the Ambassador was concerned about a possible slight if his wife and child didn't attend the meetings doesn't mean that he was in agreement with the demonstration. I'm sure that he wanted there to be no implied insult."

        "But he must have known! How else do you explain the anger?" I'Ry'Da's tone had become almost exasperated.

        Kirk tilted his head as he regarded the Medari. It appeared that they were at a stalemate.  "Spock," the Captain said, hoping to gather more information from the past, "What can you tell me about your conversations with your parents? Did either mention an argument or fight while on Medaris?"

        The First Officer’s silent contemplation of the question was finally broken as he replied. "The only disagreement that I was made aware of was that my Mother did not wish to attend the meeting due to exhaustion. It would be expected that she would be present."

        "Expected by your Father or by the Medari?" The Doctor had been quiet up to that point, but now voiced his opinion in a chagrined manner. "I mean, I can understand duty, but if your Mother was truly feeling ill, would your Father have pressured her to attend just for the sake of propriety?"

        "My Father would have examined the entire situation carefully before requesting that my Mother attend."  Spock’s confident answer was met with a harrumph from the Doctor.

        "Oh, really? From what little I've seen of your Father, he doesn't strike me as the sensitive type. I'Ry'Da, is that it?" McCoy's eyes had grown wide with the sudden serendipitous thought. "The Ambassador was ordering his wife to attend the meeting, just like you had been ordered to give your gift to the Federation members. It was against your will. Is that it?"

        I'Ry'Da swayed with a calm motion that didn't betray any sign of disagreement. "It was against us that the Governor acted. We didn't approve of the Ambassador for the same reason."

        The Captain was silently observing the Medari, and suddenly took in a deep breath. He lowered his phaser to his side as he addressed I'Ry'Da.

        "Are all capable of granting the gift? Or only a few, select ones?"

        "Only those who have had the gift from the beginning of our time. My sisters and I were fortunate."

        Spock lowered his phaser in response to the Captain's action. His sonorous voice asked the next question.

        "I'Ry'Da, why did you save only two members of the diplomatic party?  Was it because once the gift is granted, it is permanently removed?"

        "We shall always have the gift, but it can only be granted once every qu'iii', which is approximately two of your Federation months. There were not enough Medari with the gift to grant it to all the Federation members killed. That was our plan."

        "But, after you became aware of what you thought was my Father's complicity with the Governor's plan, why did you save my Mother and myself? Would it not have been more logical to save the Federation diplomats?"

        McCoy's glare was nearly laser sharp as he caught Spock's eyes. "What? Spock, when someone saves your life, you don't argue about it!  You say 'thank you', and move on!"

        "Doctor, it is a legitimate question. I'Ry'Da, would you tell me why? Was it because it would be a more effective demonstration if the Ambassador's wife and child were saved?"

        "No. I had my doubts.  I preferred not to save any of the Federation members. A choice had to be made. There are reasons, but they were of my own making. I finally decided to authorize granting the gift to you and your Mother based solely on one factor, and that was the emotion."

        The three men exchanged confused looks.

        "The emotion?" Kirk queried. "What emotion what that?"

        I'Ry'Da slowed to an almost quivering stop. "I had my reasons! Do not ask further. It was the emotion that saved the mother and infant and doomed the two Federation diplomats." She turned to the First Officer and her voice dripped with contempt. "You didn't realize that emotion could kill, did you, infant? I have sensed in you Vulcan humanoids a fear of emotion. Perhaps you are correct. Ironic, isn't it? It was the emotion that I sensed that saved your life! Saved you and killed two others."

        I'Ry'No slid closer to Spock, and Kirk once again raised his phaser. It seemed, however, that the Medari were not interested in a confrontation...at least not a physical one.

        "Indeed, infant. The emotion is what saved you. You should be grateful for it, not shocked or ashamed. If it hadn't been present, you and your Mother would be dead. Two had to die anyhow..." Her derisive tone mirrored I'Ry'Da's.

        "It is unfortunate that two experienced Federation diplomats had to die." Spock's tone caused both the Doctor and the Captain to turn. The cool, monotone timbre in his voice was evident.

        "Spock, it's as the Medari have said. Two had to die since there weren't enough of the Medari with the gift to save everyone." Kirk waited for a sign of concurrence; instead, he was floored by Spock's next statement.

        "There would not have been a choice to make if my Mother hadn't insisted on traveling to Medaris in the first place. This emotion that I'Ry'Da and the others sensed could only have come from one source. My Mother effectively caused the deaths of the two diplomats."

     “Now, wait a minute, Spock,” McCoy exclaimed, “That’s not fair.  The Medari haven’t said anything about your Mother…only your Father.  I know how you are about emotions, but I don’t think it’s right to lay the blame for the diplomat’s deaths on Amanda because she’s human.”

 

     “Doctor, I am not basing my statement on random speculation.” Spock fixed the Doctor with a hard look as he elaborated.  “When I spoke with Mother this morning, she became quite emotional while recalling the events that occurred after she woke on the Ben Smith.  She said that she was grateful for our lives.  It appears that she inadvertently made her wishes known to those who could effectively save us.”

 

     “Spock, I have to agree with Bones.  The Medari have only said that they read your father’s emotional state and…”

 

     “Impossible.  My Father is Vulcan and certainly does not have an emotional state to read.  Whatever the Medari sensed did not come from him.”  The finality of Spock’s statement left little doubt that he would never be converted to any other viewpoint.

 

     The Captain had only recently had the opportunity to meet his First Officer’s parents, and while he agreed with Spock for the most part concerning his Father, he had seen first hand that Sarek wasn’t quite the stoic Vulcan that many in the diplomatic community considered him to be; at least, not when he was around his wife.  It had amazed him when Sarek had teased her about her emotions and his reasons for marriage.  In fact, while he recuperated in Sickbay, Kirk noticed a definite warmth and deep affection between the two that he had found quite charming.  Why it was a surprise he wasn’t sure; and, why Spock had such a blind spot when it came to recognizing his Father’s actions as anything but the epitome of Vulcan behavior was also a mystery to the Captain.

 

     “I’Ry’Da, would you tell us from whom the emotion was sensed?”  Spock’s voice had taken on a definite edge that caused the Doctor to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

 

     “The emotion was present from the time the Ben Smith arrived.  It came from the immature one…the one who made the choice.  The reason you live is due to the emotion!  Don’t you understand!  The Governor wanted a demonstration, and that’s what he got!”  I’Ry’Da backed away from the Starfleet officers as her voice fell, “In fact, it might be in your best interest to leave now.”

 

     The shift in the conversation once again caused the officers to guardedly eye the

Medari as they gripped their phasers more firmly.  Kirk countered the implied threat with an edge in his voice equal to that of his First Officer’s.

 

     “I’Ry’Da, why do you want to bully and intimidate us?  You have eliminated the Governor, and apparently his forces are not strong enough to act against your coup.  We will beam out and you will never have to worry about Federation interference of any kind again.  Your planet will be classified as off limits and you will be free from us.  Is that what you want?”

 

     I’Ry’No moved forward far more swiftly than anticipated and came to stand in front of Spock with frightening speed.  He took two steps back at the unexpected action even as he raised his phaser.  She swayed to a halt as a result and retorted in the same condescending manner as before.

 

     “So, infant.  Are you not curious about the gift?  You asked.  Now you plan to leave here with no answers?”  Spock took another step back, but couldn’t go any further.  His back was now against the terrace railing and he tensed in preparation for any additional maneuvers he might need to make should I’Ry’No come any closer.  Kirk and McCoy had also backed up and were watching each move of the Medari with suspicion as Spock responded.

 

     “I would appreciate a comprehensive explanation of the ‘gift’.  You say that it is not our lives…is it some form of enhancement or ability granted?”

 

     The Medari all seemed to sway in what the officers could only assume was

amusement.  I’Ry’Da glided up to stand next to her sister.  Her voice also held a touch of disdain.

 

     “It is fortunate that it wasn’t granted.  You humanoids do not deserve it!  Our gift is the lifespan of the planet!  It is forever given and forever granted.  Your Father took the gift from you and your Mother by his interference.”

 

     The three officers all appeared to take in a collective breath at the revelation.  McCoy shook his head even as he said what the other two were, no doubt, thinking.

 

     “So, then.  That’s what the gift is…immortality.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Realizing that he was still staring at the spot on the floor, Sarek raised his eyes to the two Medari that had now ended their mopping.  They began to sway toward the exit even as the Vulcan cleared his throat to address them.

 

     “One moment.  We are searching for four members of the Federation diplomatic party.  They may have been injured and taken to one of your medical facilities.  Are you aware of any such persons transported from here?”

 

     The Medari now faced the two men and began a graceful, rocking motion.

 

     “Yes, we are aware of the four Federation members.  They are part of the demonstration.  We assisted in moving them to the exposition area in the next building.  Would you like to go there?  Preparations are still being made and the audience hasn’t arrived yet.”

 

     The two men exchanged troubled glances as Sarek replied.

 

     “Yes, we want to go there.”  The Medari promptly sashayed through the door and out into the frigid night, the two men close behind.  Jared looked over at the sharp features of the Ambassador, which appeared to have tightened since leaving the Hall.

 

    “Sarek, what do you think they mean by a demonstration?”

 

     “The Governor offered a demonstration of the gifts of the Medari.  Such events are generally comprised of a presentation of some kind.  I cannot fathom why our people would be needed.”

 

     The building they approached was smaller than the Great Hall and not as well lit from the outside.  The Medari had already mounted the stairs and were at the doorway as Sarek and Jarek sprinted up the stairway in an attempt to keep up.  The ornate doors were pushed open with little effort and the Medari stood, one on each side of the hallway that led into a huge, open room.

 

     “They are in the central room.  It is early…perhaps you would like to wait?”  The cordial question of the Medari was met with silence.

 

     Jared had moved into the hallway with his phaser drawn, barely ahead of the Ambassador.  Suddenly, he spun around and put a hand up to prevent Sarek from moving forward.  His eyes were wide and his dazed voice echoed in the hall.

 

    “Oh, dear God…Sarek, stop.”

 

     It was too late.  Sarek had seen around the security officer into the inner room.  It wasn’t furnished in any way, but something was lying in the middle of the wide expanse.  The forms on the floor were completely still.  As he moved around Jared, Sarek was unaware if the man had spoken again.  He was focused on discovering what…or who…was there.

 

     The four figures were lined up on the floor side-by-side.  Entering the expanse, the men could hear only the reverberation of their footsteps on the cold, metal surface.  The dim light offered just enough illumination to clearly see the bodies.

 

     The bodies.

 

     Sarek knew before he reached them that they were dead.  The two Medari had now moved to stand on the other side of those on the floor.  The dead had been spaced with about a half-meter between them.  One of the Medari spoke.

 

     “Can you identify these people?  We know that I’Ry’Da is the name of the Medari female.”

 

     Sarek could just distinguish the first person on the floor as Chen Li.  The blast had badly damaged her left side, but it was clear that it was she.  The second body was that of Ursula Driscott.  Once again, she had the telltale signs of serious shrapnel damage from the blast.  Both would be a difficult loss for the diplomatic community, Sarek thought.

 

     The third body was that of the Medari female, I’Ry’Da.  He had only briefly discussed the Federation’s position with her…she had seemed most interested and not at all defensive.

 

     The fourth body.

 

     The fourth body…Sarek felt a flash of relieve.  It wasn’t Amanda.  No.  She had been wearing a light colored dress with a faint floral pattern that was not her typical attire.  She generally favored something more elaborate, and he had commented about the rather plain nature of the dress when she had modeled it for him after she had received it from Earth.  She had wrinkled her nose at him and, after shaking her head in mock indignation, left his office.  It was definitely not a burgundy color…no.  Not like the outfit the person on the floor was wearing.

 

     “Sarek.  Can you identify them?”

 

     The voice sounded detached…distant.  Sarek knew it was Jared, and yet the words floated around him and barely registered.  He needed to answer.  He knew the diplomats, certainly.  Why was it so impossible to speak?  The air had taken on a thick, viscous quality that caused him to inhale deeply.  Breathe, he thought.  Answer the question.

 

     “Yes.  The first is Chen Li, Senior Diplomat.  The second is Ursula Driscott, Junior Diplomat.  The third is the Medari female, I’Ry’Da.  The fourth…” He paused as he reflected upon the rushed way he had just rattled off the names.  He looked again at the body on the floor.  No…he didn’t recognize it.  Amanda was far too dignified to find herself in such a position.  She would never lie on a floor.  No…

   

     “Sarek, is she your wife?”

 

     His intention was to answer no.  It was the correct answer…it was the truth.  Kneeling down, he took one final look at the dead woman on the floor.  She was petite, with long hair that was now matted against her head.  Her eyes were partly open, and Sarek was once again relieved to see it wasn’t Amanda.  This person’s eyes were of a steely gray shade, not his wife’s blue.  The deep burgundy color of the dress was apparently imperfect…around her waist was an area that was lighter.  Lighter and of a similar color as that of Amanda’s dress.  But, no…it wasn’t her.  She wouldn’t be in this situation.  He would forbid it.

 

     Jared could barely look at the pitiful sight before him.  The young woman on the floor had been at the epicenter of the blast.  Her dress was covered in the same dark crimson blood that had covered the Assembly Hall floor.  A deep gash in her neck indicated to him that she had likely been killed instantly…severed jugular vein, probably.  It was small comfort.  Jared knew that this woman was likely the Ambassador’s wife, and yet Sarek had not identified her.  Instead, the Ambassador was now looking at a point above the bodies.  There was nothing there to hold his interest, and yet…

 

     “Mr. Oaks,” Sarek said, his tone unruffled but flat.  “Would you contact the Ben Smith and inform them that we have casualties that need to be beamed up?”

 

     “Yes sir.”  Jared noted the formality of the Ambassador’s request and quickly tried to comply.  The communicator, once activated, only blared out a static blast as Jared tried to contact the ship.  He finally closed the devise, and reluctantly told the Ambassador the bad news.  There would be no immediate departure from the planet’s surface.

 

     Sarek once again could hear the words of the security officer.  They seemed filtered as if poured through a sieve.  Why it was becoming so difficult to function was not logical.  He was in control and he would complete the difficult task at hand with his usual competence.  They would beam up, and then…

 

     “Sir?”  One of the Medari was speaking to him…the hollow sound reverberated around him.

 

     “Yes?”

 

     “Sir, is it possible for you to identify the infant?  He was badly injured by the blast, but we noticed some type of hieroglyphics on his tunic.  Perhaps you might recognize it.  It isn’t Standard or any type of writing we know.”

 

     Up until that point, Sarek hadn’t noticed that there was a blanket on the floor.  A numbing sense of alarm came over him as he looked at the lump on the floor.  It was tiny…barely registered as an item.  The blanket certainly looked like the one Amanda has used to cover his son with that evening.  Impossible.  It was also dark, but…

 

     “Sarek, don’t.  Let me look.  Tell me what the boy was wearing.”  Jared’s voice held an immeasurable melancholy…and in a sickening burst of insight, Sarek knew.  He knew what the child would be wearing.  Memories were suddenly flooding over him as he remembered the package…Amanda’s surprise…her delight when she realized what it was…no, not what it was, but rather whom it was from.  Isn’t it beautiful, she had said.  Isn’t it…

 

       “I will look.  I was not present when my son was dressed.  I…I was pre-occupied.”  His hesitation was aberrant to him.  Breathing in, he reached down and, careful to grasp a bloodless area, pulled the blanket back.


     It was obvious from the lack of injury to the baby’s left side that he had been held against his mother that way.  A tiny arm and fist were perfect…the strange translucent, almost porcelain coloring…almost like a marble statue.  Yet, a sculpture wouldn’t have been so detailed.  As he pulled back the blanket, Sarek could now see the front of the jumper, its brown color strangely familiar.  And the words.  Only two words.  House and Clan.

 

     His House.

 

     His Clan.

 

     His heir…his future…his very life.  Laying on a cold metal floor of an alien planet…a planet he should never have taken them to.  It was his responsibility and his fault.  His fault.

 

     His.

 

     Jared felt a jabbing ache in his abdomen as Sarek reached down and traced the embroidered script on the front of the baby’s outfit.  He nearly stepped forward to stop him, but realized that the Ambassador might need this in order to acknowledge the truth.

 

     Sarek knew the truth.  He pulled his hand away, and then covered the small form with the blanket again.  Since this was his son, it could only mean one thing.  He forced his gaze back to the woman’s body that he hadn’t identified before.  Now, it was if a veil had been removed from his vision.  It was so obvious…  The curve of her face, the cut of the dress, the hair…even though it was down, which was atypical.  A jolt of memory played over and over…his harsh words about her hair, his son.  His approach recently had been more that of a taskmaster than a husband.  He wanted to take back what he had said, but that was now impossible.  Worse, he would not have done it under any other circumstances…he never apologized.

 

     If only… 

 

     A surge of rage and grief rocketed through him as he realized they had been targeted.  His wife and child had been the victims of a cruel political battle…one that they had no part in.  Skon’s shrewd words struck out at him…take nothing for granted.  Do not assume anything.  Never take more personnel than necessary on a mission.  Never.

 

     “Mr. Oaks, try to raise the Ben Smith again.  We need to leave here.”  Jared noted the Ambassador’s voice was a mere shadow of its usual strength and tried again.  There was still no response.

 

     “Sir, I’m going to go outside to see if I can hail them there.  We might be experiencing some interference in this building.”  Sarek didn’t answer as Jared left.  The replay of events leading up to the explosion exposed the truth, and that truth left a bitter taste in his mouth as Sarek considered all that had happened. 

 

     Their move from Earth to Vulcan was supposed to be uncomplicated.  It was, in terms of a major relocation, but he had not anticipated the nearly imperceptible judgments and condemnation that followed their arrival.  Month after month, it had been an insidious, progressive chipping away at the foundation of their marriage.  Subtle, yet effective.  Even as Amanda made remarkable strides in her understanding of her new life and the expectations that went with it, he had become less supportive.  Why?  Because of what others thought?  It scarcely mattered now…there would be no chance to rectify the situation…no chance to tell her the truth.  He needed her far more that she had needed him, but it was too late.  It was over.  He had been killing them even before their arrival on Medaris.

 

     “Sarek, I’m sorry.  I still can’t get a signal.  Sir…she was your wife, right?”

 

     Was.  Past tense. 

 

     Jared knelt down next to the blanketed body of the infant and could feel his own sorrow building at the continued stillness of the Ambassador.  He must be in shock, the security officer thought.  Who wouldn’t be, under the circumstances?  He recalled the young woman and the baby in the hall, but had assumed that she was married to one of the numerous human diplomats.  One of the Medari officials had led her in even as the Medari assemblage had cornered the Ambassador.  It had been a surprise to see a civilian among the Federation diplomats since Medaris wasn’t yet a Federation member planet.   Filing that bit of information away for possible future use, Jared had continued to scan the crowds, looking for any indication of trouble.  None appeared until the explosion.  He’d kept a respectful distance from the Ambassador up to that point, but automatically acted once the danger had revealed itself.  Now, he lifted his hand from his side and briefly touched the Vulcan’s arm. 

 

     “Sarek, I grieve with thee.  The loss of your child…your wife.  I’m so sorry.  She was lovely.”

 

     Was.  Past tense.  Again, the words were insufficient.  They hadn’t been lost.  They had been taken from him.  And that word…lovely.  The use of that adjective was random, Sarek knew.  Jared could not imagine the torment that was now churning within him at the use of that word. 

 

     It had been an ongoing debate from even before their marriage as Amanda defended the merits of love and he argued against the abstract, illogical concept.  Neither of them was willing to give in.  Their last discussion had only been twenty days earlier after Sarek overheard his wife telling his son how much she loved him.  It had escalated and had nearly taken on an ugly quality, until Amanda had suddenly started to laugh.  After a few minutes, Sarek tersely asked what was so amusing.  She had shrugged and given him a most enigmatic response… ‘Sarek, every time you say my name, you tell me that you love me.  I’m not going to argue with you about this issue any more.’  She hadn’t brought it up since.  After several hours of mulling over her statement, Sarek found himself researching the meaning of human names.  Vulcan names did not have their meaning taken from the usual vocabulary of the language like human names often did.  When he looked up her name, he grimaced and sighed.  Of course.  If he didn’t know better, he would believe that there was a conspiracy going back to his wife’s birth…even her parents were instrumental in attempting to prove him wrong.

 

     Amanda:  origin Latin.  Meaning: worthy of love, loveable, beloved

 

     Once again, the present situation brought about further regrets.  Why he still believed that their bond was in place was puzzling.  There should have been some indication of it being severed.  A gossamer thread of connection still appeared to be present, but that was not realistic.  Most likely, it was some residual echo of their bond.  A knot of doubt twisted around him.  Had they had a bond at all?  Amanda had said that humans didn’t bond like Vulcans and that they couldn’t bond.  If that was true, then what did he believe was there?

 

     A noise from the entryway of the building caused Jared to stand and draw his phaser, his instincts alerted by the high-pitched sounds of the Medari as they moved into the room.  Ten of the tentacled creatures circled around the Federation dead even as the security officer raised his arm to level his weapon against them.  The Medari had slowed to a gentle sway as one of them spoke.

 

     “Ah, we see that you have already found our demonstration area.  We were going to contact you once we had made all the necessary preparations.”

 

     At the voice, Sarek reluctantly stood, and addressed the speaker.  “Governor I’ky’lo, what is the meaning of this?  How is it possible for a demonstration to involve our dead?  We will not permit it and insist that you allow us to leave immediately.”

 

     The Governor began to advance, but was halted by the raised phaser of the security officer.  “Leave?  Why would you want to take these shells back to your ship?  There will be an investigation of the deaths.  Only two were to be killed…not four.  We deeply regret the sabotage to our plans.  Those found responsible will be executed; however, of more importance, we can still show the gift that I mentioned to you earlier.”

 

     “Your plans?  You mean that this was an act of premeditated murder?”  The Ambassador’s tone had taken on a low, dangerous quality that had Jared wondering if Sarek had forgotten that he was Vulcan.

 

     “It was intended that two would die.  Since the demonstration was for your benefit, it seemed only fitting that your wife and son should be the ones granted the gift.  We were betrayed by several of the Restorers…those able to grant the gift.  They killed four Federation members, which was unacceptable!  They will be punished.”

 

     One of the Medari, a female wearing a magenta wrap, loudly snapped back at the Governor’s words.  “No!  You cannot force us to grant the gift!  It must be deserved, and if any deserve the gift, it is the two diplomats.  They are the ones we wish to save.  They are the ones who can assist us the most…not some female humanoid and an infant!  Think about it, Governor…the two diplomats are the most logical choice.  They are the ones that we will help.”

 

     “Wait,” Sarek began, a faint glimmer of hope beginning to surface, “Are you telling us that there is a way to save the lives of two of our people?  How is that possible?”

 

     “They are dead,” the Governor stated, “but, with the assistance of those capable of granting the gift, two can be restored.  I have seen it with my own eyes and senses.  It is what we wish to offer the Federation…it is our greatest resource.”

 

     “Then save my wife and son.”  There was no hesitation in his voice.  Sarek leaned forward as he emphasized his next sentence.  “You must save them.”

 

     “No!” shrieked the female Medari, “We shall not be used in such a way!  Governor, think!  Logically, we should save the diplomats.  The Federation Ambassador is young.  He can remarry and have other children.  The diplomats can act on our behalf now and would benefit most with the gift granted to them than to the woman and infant.  Even the Ambassador must acknowledge that!”

 

     “No,” Sarek calmly replied, “My wife and child are of more value.  As the Federation Ambassador, I would be strongly biased against the admission of Medaris if my wife and son were not restored.  It would be to the advantage of the Medari people to allow them to be granted the gift you speak of.”

 

     “Governor, perhaps a compromise,” said a Medari female dressed in orange.  “We shall save the senior diplomat and the infant.  That will allow us to have the best Diplomat available other than the Ambassador, plus the child will be saved since he didn’t have a choice but to come to the planet.  Will that be acceptable?”

 

     “No.”  Once again, there was no hesitation and no possibility of argument.  Jared was impressed with the force of the Ambassador’s will, even as his family lay only a few short meters away.  The potential for miscalculation was high, but Sarek wasn’t going to give in.

 

     “Ambassador Sarek,” The Governor sounded as if he had arrived at a solution to the problem.  “I will give you the option:  either the two diplomats will be saved or the senior diplomat and the infant.  Those are the only two scenarios we shall consider.”

 

     “I wish you to save my wife and son.  That is the only option I will entertain.”

 

     “Impossible!  Time is quickly vanishing…the life force of the Federation members is slipping away.  Pick one of the two options.  Those are your only choices.  If you refuse, then we shall pick.”  The Governor swayed backward somewhat as the other Medari continued their hypnotic movements.

 

     Sarek glanced back down at the floor.  There was no choice in his mind but one; however, it wasn’t being presented as a possibility.  How could he convince them that it was the right selection?

 

     “Ambassador, it is time.  We have to know your answer.”

 

     Sarek considered the two options.  Neither was acceptable.  He knew which one Amanda would want him to say, but… He couldn’t.  He had to have them both…not just one.

 

     “I want you to save my wife and son.”  His words sent the Medari into a strange, frantic dance of tentacles.  The Governor finally spoke, his words ringing throughout the room.

 

     “The Ambassador has refused to pick; therefore, it is my decision.  I choose the two diplomats.  Let the other two perish.”

 

     “No!” the unison voices of both Sarek and Jared exclaimed.  The Medari females dressed in the orange and magenta clothing had already moved to stand in front of the two dead diplomats.  The Governor slid up toward the Ambassador even as Sarek took a step back, his foot coming to rest against his wife’s leg.

 

     “You refused to choose.  I know that you understand obligations.  It is unfortunate, but the two diplomats are of more use to us.  Do not concern yourself, Ambassador.  It is as I’Ry’Si has said.  You are young.  You can remarry and have other children.”

 

     “Yes,” said I’Ry’Si, her voice taking on a slightly patronizing tone, “It is preferable anyway, correct?  After all, your wife was most difficult and didn’t listen to you, right?  We could sense your irritation with her and the infant; now, you need not be troubled with them.  In fact, this is perfect for you, Ambassador.  Think of it!  You will now be able to fulfill your duties without distraction.”

 

     Appalled, Sarek grudgingly acknowledged her analysis.  “I’Ry’Si, I will admit that my actions involving my wife and son have been lamentable of late.  There is no basis to your belief that I would want them removed from me.  Do not let my specious actions impinge on them.  I had planned to modify…”

 

     “No.”  The word rumbled through the room as I’Ry’No joined the conversation.  “We sense in you no ability to change.  You would only go on as before with your demands.  You would only continue to injure them…oh, not physically, but by your unyielding conduct.  It is not within you to see beyond your own expectations.  It is regrettable, but quite representative, of an immature species.  Now, it is over.  You are liberated from them and, more significantly, they are free of you.”

 

     Stunned, Sarek’s gaze fell to where his wife lay.  Was that truly what the Medari saw?  Was he incapable of reaching beyond his own needs?  Reflecting back on the evening, he could understand how the Medari might misinterpret…  He stopped.  No, it had not been a misinterpretation.  He had been displeased with Amanda.  Why?  Because she had missed a few unimportant meetings?  Because she hadn’t been ready to depart from the villa precisely when he was ready?  Because her appearance wasn’t as he anticipated?  Because his son might cry and cause a disturbance?  Looking down at the blanket that covered his silent child, he found himself fervently wishing that there would be some movement…some indication of life.  But there was nothing.

 

     He wanted to hear his son cry one more time.

 

     Jared took a step forward, his phaser raised at the two female Medari.

 

     “The Ambassador wants you to save his wife and child.  Now, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.  I’m not above using force, if necessary.  You two…come over here and save them.”

 

     There was no movement except for the continued swaying.  Finally, I’Ry’No came as close to laughing as a Medari could at the security officer’s command.

 

     “Your weapon is useless here.  You cannot threaten us!  The gift will be granted to those who deserve it.  Ah, see?  Our sister is preparing to rejoin us.”

 

     Jared inspected the phaser in his hand.  It had been fully charged on board the Ben Smith, but it was now completely drained.  He threw it down in disgust.  Both he and Sarek stared in amazement as the diplomat I’Ry’Da began to stir, her tentacles trembling faintly.  The wounds that had been on her abdominal region had all but disappeared.  She rose up and slid over to join the Governor, her voice weak as she spoke.

 

     “Ah, it is good to be restored!  The pain was difficult to overcome.  My sisters have made the right choice.  We shall save the two diplomats.”

 

     “The demostration will be ready in seven qu’llill.  Ambassador, if you want, we will permit you to beam up the woman and infant.  They are not needed.”  The Governor’s words bit into him as Sarek bent down again.  Not needed…they were not needed.

 

     “Sarek, do you want them to be beamed aboard?”  Jared’s empathetic tone seemed to weigh down on him.  What he wanted he could not have.  The Medari held out the promise of their restoration, and then had just as quickly taken it away.  It was not his desire to deny the two diplomats the right to life, but he knew what he wanted.  The Medari assessment of him was correct.  He was egotistical and demanding, and he recognized that. Generally, it worked to his advantage.  Now…

 

     Reaching down, he caressed his wife’s cheek as he closed his eyes.  The bizarre impression that their bond was still in place obsessed him.  Perhaps it was the life force the Medari spoke of.  Her blood-caked skin was cold under his touch, not cool.  Letting his hand drop, Sarek forced his thoughts to his next course of action.  They would have to be transported home.  There would be potential problems with his request for a memorial service on Mt. Seleya, but the adepts could not deny his right as a member of the House of Surak.  Then again…

 

     The thought of taking them to Vulcan was suddenly violently objectionable to him.  He didn’t want to debate the impropriety of performing the Vok-Van-Kal service for a human.  Little changed on Vulcan without a tremendous amount of contemplation and reflection.  There was no spontaneity and it might take weeks before a decision was reached.  He had only attended one human funeral service, and that was with his Father after a senior consul member had been killed in a flitter accident.  He recalled the ceremony as being very peculiar, with the body nearby for all to see in a flower-covered casket.  He could only reason that the body was to be observed by the living to confirm the death.  The service concluded with the transport of the casket to the cemetery.  It had been interesting to him to see the formalities up close.  He had thought, up to that point, that humans did not have traditional ceremonies that were venerated like that of Vulcans.  But now, in his attempt to recall what had been done, Sarek needed someone who could answer his questions.  He took in a sharp breath.

 

     His first thought was to ask Amanda.  Had he truly lost his mind?

 

     Jared could see the struggle that was apparent on the Ambassador’s face.  He feared that Sarek might just break under the anguish of losing his family.  The Vulcan fixed his dark, empty eyes on Jared for a moment, and then let his gaze fall back to his wife.

 

     “Jared, may I ask you a question?”

 

     “Certainly, sir.  What would you like to ask?”

 

     The steadiness in the Ambassador’s voice faltered as he continued.  “I need to know about human burial rituals.  I do not want there to be any mistakes.”

 

     Jared swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that was present.  He found maintaining any type of detachment from the situation impossible now.  Kneeling down, he kept his words as composed as possible.  “I’m sure that you can find people, even on Vulcan, to assist you with everything.  You shouldn’t be worried about doing something wrong.  Everything will be done correctly.”

 

     “No, I am not taking them to Vulcan.  I am taking them to Earth.”

 

     The more he deliberated on the idea, the more steadfast he became.  It would be, perhaps, the more difficult alternative.  He would have to face the grief, criticism and anger of Amanda’s family, but it was the only possible answer.  He could still recall Amanda’s Father at the shuttle station as they prepared to leave for Vulcan.  The human had called him aside, away from Amanda and her Mother.  The elder human’s deep blue eyes were nearly identical to those of his daughter’s.  Those eyes locked onto Sarek with a firm, solemn look as he murmured to the Vulcan, his volume just loud enough for the Ambassador to hear.  ‘Sarek, I’m not going to pretend to understand your interest in my daughter.  All I know is that Mandy is happy, and that’s all that matters.  But, one thing…you take care of her.  Don’t let any harm come to her.  If something should happen to her, I swear…” Her Father’s words were interrupted by the announcement that the shuttle was in final preparations to depart.  Sarek had been tempted to tell the man that his fears were unfounded.  Of course, nothing would harm her.  Of course…

 

     “Sarek, the same thing applies.  There will be people there to assist you.  What exactly do you want to know?”

 

     Sarek wondered just what he did want to ask.  He could take his son’s body to Mt. Seleya and there would be no dispute; however, it would not be the suitable thing to do.  The thought of his son’s body on Vulcan and his wife’s on Earth was repugnant to him.  What did he want to know?  What could he do?  More to the point, what would Amanda want him to do?

 

     “Would it be…is there a chance that my wife and son might be buried together?  Is that possible on Earth?  I do not want to separate them.  My only request is that I be allowed to attend the funeral.  Do you think that would be permitted?”

 

     Jared could feel the tears squeezing through his tightly closed eyes.  Why Sarek was asking him these questions was obvious, but it was just too excruciating for him to hear.  The negligible tone of bewilderment and loss when speaking about his wife and son highlighted to the security officer the fact that the Ambassador was completely devastated by their deaths.  The knowledge that the Medari could save their lives, but refused, made the situation even more unbearable.

 

     “Sarek, I’m sure that whatever you want will be just fine.”

 

     “What I want I cannot have.  It is not for me that I ask…” Sarek’s voice trailed off as he realized that the two Medari females, those referred to as the Restorers, were no longer standing near the diplomats.

 

     Now, I’Ry’No and I’Ry’Si had taken up positions near his wife and son.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   

     “Immortality…is that possible?” said Kirk, his eyes roaming over the Medari whose presence was still a little too close for comfort.

 

     “We don’t understand the term.  Im..mortality?  No, what we offer is the lifespan of the planet.  It is what certain of us have to offer as the gift.”  I’Ry’Da sounded confused by the Doctor and Captain’s pronouncement.

 

     “I’Ry’Da, for us, the lifespan of a planet would far exceed our expected lifespan,” Kirk offered, “How long has the planet Medaris been in existence?”

 

     “Hundreds of thousands of qui’lan.  We cannot remember back that far anymore.  We were formed at the time of the planet’s birth.  Those without the gift are our children.  The gift had been kept from many on the planet due to its value and the fear that it would be exploited, just as the two Governor’s tried to do…both now and in the past.”

 

     Spock, who had been quietly observing the Medari, raised an eyebrow at I’Ry’Da.  “It is safe to assume, then, that the gift can only be granted by those capable from the point of origin of the planet.  Those given the gift cannot grant it.”

 

     “That is correct.  Only the Restorers can grant the gift.  I now believe that you and your Mother were only the recipients of the side effects of the gift.  Our people have classified you as dead due to your actual physical demise on our planet; however, you had to be resuscitated prior to the gift being employed.  Infant, do you have any idea how close you were to being granted the gift?”

 

     Spock’s eyebrow stayed raised as he considered the question.  “The only injury I had upon examination on the Ben Smith was a few abrasions on my face.  Physically, I was unharmed…”

 

     “Exactly.  You were only a few scrapes away from having the gift.”

 

     The three officers once again exchanged looks.  McCoy cleared his throat to speak.  “You mean that Spock here was very nearly given the lifespan of your planet?  That’s kind of frightening.  You did say that it could be taken away, though.  You did try to remove it from him and his mother.”

 

     “Yes, we tried.  I would assume that the Mother also wasn’t granted the gift, but we are not positive.”

 

     “I’Ry’Da,” Spock began, again attempting to understand the Medari. “You mentioned that the life force of a person could be extinguished if the gift was granted.  How is the life force of a person captured and held?  If it can be held, why couldn’t you maintain the life force of the diplomats until more Restorers could come to save them?”

 

     “There is only a very limited time in which the life force can be reunited with the body.  It is finite.  The planet holds the force.” The Medari’s tentacles seemed to point toward the edge of the terrace.  “Are you not curious about your fascination with the gardens?  Your Mother’s interest in the gardens?  Don’t you remember?  You were there.”

 

     McCoy began to grin in spite of himself.  “What are you trying to say, I’Ry’Da.  Spock and his Mother were turned into plants?”

 

     “No!  They were captured by the planet, which allowed them to be restored.  It is a dangerous thing, infant,” I’Ry’Da undulated toward the First Officer, who was still backed against the terrace wall.  “Beware the fact that you have been restored.  It can cause a certain carelessness…a lack of fear.  After all, what is there to fear if you have already faced death?”

 

     An abrupt booming sound shook the terrace, throwing everyone, including the Medari, to the rough-paved surface underfoot.  The shrieks of the Medari could be heard as they drew back toward the building entrance.  The three officers stared, somewhat wide-eyed, at the retreat of the tentacled beings.  The Captain pulled out his communicator, but discovered that it was dead.  Both Spock and McCoy checked theirs and shook their heads.  Kirk exchanged knowing looks with his men.

 

     “I’d say that the cavalry has arrived.  I just hope that they realize we’re on their side.”

 

     “Oh, now, this is just great,” McCoy muttered as he looked down at his phaser, “My phaser doesn’t have a charge.  I hope you two have operable weapons, or we’re in big trouble.”

 

     Kirk and Spock quickly appraised their own phasers, and silently communicated their dismay at the turn of events.  No weapons, no way to communicate with the ship, and they were in the middle of a rapidly escalating civil skirmish.  A second blast shook the terrace, and the Starfleet officers ducked behind a huge table near the edge of the railing.  The Captain attempted to use his communicator once again, to no avail.  He raised an eyebrow at his First Officer and Medical Officer.

 

     “Well, Spock, Bones, I believe our best course of action is to lay low and wait for the fireworks to end.”  He listened to the ongoing squeals and high-pitched noises that assaulted them from inside the Governor’s residence.  As he leaned back against the railing, the Captain rolled his eyes and sighed.  “We have definitely had better days.”

 

     “I concur.” Spock added, his deadpan tone causing Kirk to grin in response.  McCoy just shook his head.

 

     “Hey, Jim.  It could be worse…I mean, we could be dead like Spock.”

 

     “I am not dead, Doctor.”

 

     “I’m only following local custom…and, you could have fooled me.”

 

     They listened intently as the battle raged in the Governors home.  Occasionally, they would check their equipment, but there was no change.  The shaking began to gradually die down, and the three officers guardedly wondered who would be the victor in this battle of the Restorers and the Government officials.

 

     After a few minutes of quiet, Kirk stood up and stretched his legs.  The other two followed suit and stood, vigilantly watching the entryway.  The darkened doorway remained empty for several minutes; then, the three men heard the distinct sound of the Medari as they approached.  Once again, the men took refuge behind the table.

 

     Three green-outfitted Medari strode out the doorway and straight toward the Starfleet officers.  Kirk nearly raised his phaser until he realized how ridiculous it would be to aim the depleted weapon.  Since it wasn’t the Restorers coming out to ‘execute’ them, he decided to take a chance.  Moving out from around the table, he stood and waited for the Medari to reach them, Spock on his right side, McCoy on his left.

 

     “Ah, Gentlemen!” the Medari between the other two began, energetically moving his tentacles, “What a dreadful thing to have happen!  Our dear Governor is gone, and now we are showing ourselves as not worthy of entry into the Federation!  We are so ashamed!  Are you unharmed?” The three Medari stopped a few meters from the officers and swayed, an imperceptible air of apprehension in his voice.

 

     “We’re fine.  Maybe a little shaken up, but not injured.” The Captain responded, relaxing only a bit at the concern shown to them by the Medari.

 

     “Ah, good!  It is unbelievable to us that the Governor is gone!  Oh, the horrors of it!  He didn’t deserve such a death!  Oh, if only we had known…”

 

     “I’m sure this is a terrible shock to you…” Kirk pause and hoped for an introduction to their apparent rescuers.

 

     “Oh, my manners!  Of course!  I am I’ha’di.  These two are my associates, I’el’di and I’el’mi.  They are brothers and fellow diplomats.  We have the Restorers presently contained in the Governor’s residence.  Please be assured that they will be executed for their wicked actions!”

 

     “I’ha’di,” the Captain cautioned, “I realize that what the Restorers did was wrong, but if you execute them, won’t you lose two more of the Medari that were created at the beginning of your planet’s time?”

 

     “That is of no consequence.  There are plenty of us to replenish the loss of the two who did this horrible thing.”

 

     “Captain,” Spock quietly warned, but Kirk was already ahead of him.  These three Medari apparently knew nothing of the gift.  Several more Medari appeared and made their way onto the terrace.  One of those held some type of devise that the three officers could only assume was a weapon.  Since it wasn’t leveled at them, the Captain felt it was probably used to subdue the Restorers.

 

     “You gentlemen are free to leave.  We cannot believe that we have been so horribly deceived by some of our own people!  They don’t act on our behalf, believe me,” I’ha’di exclaimed, tentacles still waving.

 

     “I’ha’di, do you know if we might have the chance to speak with the Restorers?  I’m wondering if it might be possible to get both groups together and break this vicious cycle of attacks that occur regularly between the Restorers and the Government officials?”  Kirk queried as he watched even more Medari joining them from the residence.

 

     “It is not for me to say.  I am but a lowly junior diplomat.  Perhaps I’ji’mo can be of assistance.”  The Medari holding the ‘weapon’ came forward.

 

     “It is an old problem, that is certain.  The Government wanted only to offer the gift that the Restorers have.  We were positive that the Federation would be more than willing to allow our admission after a demonstration, but it ended tragically.  The death of the four Federation members and one Medari has remained our greatest shame.”

 

     “Two Federation members,” McCoy grumbled, but both the Captain and First Officer pinned him with a look that left him no option other than to fold his arms across his chest and clamp his mouth shut.

 

     “We will still seek entry into the Federation,” I’ji’mo continued, “The Restorers will comply with our requests, and then we will be admitted.”

 

     The three officers passed a guarded look between each other.  “I’ji’mo,” Kirk hedged, “You can’t force the Restorers to grant the gift.  It apparently doesn’t work that way.”

 

     “It will!  They will do whatever we command them to do!  They are under our control now.”  The Medari had all begun to sway in an identical fashion.

 

     “Excuse me,” Spock began, his eyes carefully surveying the Medari as they moved, “What you are suggesting sounds suspiciously like slavery.  The Restorers may have lost this most recent battle, but they have considerable powers and might retaliate in a devastating manner.  Would it not be to the benefit of all to find a peaceful solution to the question of admission to the Federation?”

 

     “What can be done?  The Restorers can offer their gift to the Federation and win us admission to the Federation.  They must help us!  Would it not be to the benefit of all Medaris if they did?”  I’ji’mo slid back toward the group of Medari.

 

     At that moment, a tremor began to shake the terrace.  It wasn’t enough to knock any of those present to the ground, but its implication wasn’t lost on the officers as the Medari once again began to wail.  McCoy said it best with his usual cynicism firmly in place.

 

     “Oh, joy.  Well, gentlemen, I’d say that we’re getting ready to witness the revenge of the Restorers.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “What are you doing?” Sarek inquired as I’Ry’No and I’Ry’Si stood in front of Amanda and Spock.  “I must know what you plan to do.”

 

     I’Ry’Da began to move closer to Sarek, but Jared blocked her move.  She stopped…completely stopped.

 

     “You will not ask us of our motives!  I have changed my mind.  We shall save the woman and infant, but there is one condition that must be agreed to first.”

 

     “What is that condition?”  Sarek waited for the response, a sense of unease settling on him at the sudden change in the selection of those to be granted the gift.

 

     “You must speak of this to no one.  The gift will be granted to them, but the restoration could be undone with any action we find offensive.  Keep the Federation away from us and your family will be safe.  If there is any contact made after this day, your family is forfeit and will be eliminated.  Do you understand and agree to the condition?”  I’Ry’Da’s stance was unyielding as she stood in front of the Ambassador.

 

     “I can attempt to keep the Federation away, but to say that it will be a permanent condition would be imprudent on my part.”  Sarek waited for an affirmative response, but was not prepared for what I’Ry’Da said next.

 

     “No.  Either you agree now, or we will withhold the gift from them all.”

 

     “Sarek,” Jared whispered, “Tell them that you agree.  It’s for your wife and child!”

 

     A very noticeable pause filled the room as the Ambassador hesitated.  To make such a promise when he knew that it would be nearly impossible to keep was difficult.  He now suspected that the Governor planned the demonstration without the approval of the Restorers, and if that were the case, then the Government officials might contact the Federation again.  He forced in a sharp breath.  Logical or not, he had no choice.

 

     “Of course, I’Ry’Da.  I agree.  We shall leave and will never disturb the Medari people again.”

 

     “Very well,” I’Ry’Da said as she swayed back toward the Governor, “Remember your promise.  We are nearly ready to begin.  Prepare to witness the gift…”

 

     “What?” exclaimed the Governor, as his wild undulations threatened to tip him over.  “Ambassador, what are you doing?  This is outrageous!  How dare you bypass me!  The entire purpose of the demonstration was to garner an invitation for Medaris to join the Federation.  Now, you are accepting the gift from the Restorers under their terms?!  That is totally unacceptable!”

 

     “Governor, time is of the essence.  You stated that you wished to demonstrate the Medari gift when, in actuality, you planned to exploit the Restorers and coerce them into granting the gift to innocent victims of the explosion that you orchestrated.  I requested that my wife and son be saved; however, you refused to allow that.  You therefore left me no other option than to pay no heed to your authority and seek another alternative, one that will meet my requirements.”

 

     Jared had now placed himself rather close to the Governor and Sarek.  It was obvious that the situation was deteriorating fast.  The two Restorers, still near the bodies, had begun to move in an identical, placid sway.  I’Ry’Da joined their motion even as the Governor and Ambassador continued their war of words, oblivious to anything else happening around them.

 

     “You agreed to the demonstration.  I heard that you have a reputation as a fair, logical being, but now I see the truth!  Your complete lack of principles is inexcusable!  We shall not permit the granting of the gift to such as you!”  The Governor seemed for a moment to consider going around the burly security guard, but had second thoughts.  Jared was immovable.  An unexpected trembling began to vibrate under those in the central room.   

 

     “It is too late,” I’Ry’Da said, her voice as smooth and gentle as a warm breeze, “It has begun.”

 

     Sarek and Jared exchanged an uneasy glance as they turned their attention back to the Restorers and their actions.  At first, it appeared that nothing was happening except for the rumbling that could be felt reverberating through the room.

 

     “Sarek, look at their tentacles…what are they doing?” Jared uttered, his voice barely above a whisper.  The security officer had seen the Medari move quickly, but now their motions were so incredibly fast that he couldn’t determine where one of their numerous arms began and another ended.  They leaned forward in the direction of the bodies to a point that it seemed they would collapse to the floor.  A faint humming sound emanated from them as they proceeded with the display.

 

     A blinding flash of light forced the men to look away briefly.  When they were able to look again, the motions of I’Ry’Si and I’Ry’No appeared even more frenzied and faster than before.  The air was filled with the unnerving sounds of Medari droning that set the men’s teeth on edge.  Jared gasped at what happened next even as Sarek stood stationary, taken aback by what he observed.  There was a nearly fluorescent, gelatinous substance pouring from the Restorers tentacles.  It surged across the floor directly toward Amanda and Spock.  The eerie, lifelike quality of the substance was fascinating to watch.  Sarek could sense the impulse of Jared, who stood next to him, even as he fought an identical reaction.  The urge to move the bodies away from the flowing matter was nearly impossible not to act on.

 

     As it moved, the vibrations underfoot deepened and grew.  The steady progression of the substance along the floor now intensified.  The gel was now touching the top of his wife’s head and Sarek forced his clenched fists to relax even as he continued to brace himself to act.  If the Medari had lied about their intentions, then he would have to make an effort to recover the bodies as intact as possible.  There was no ascertainable

way to determine what was in the oozing matter that now moved over Amanda.  The substance was also underneath the blanket that covered his son.  Sarek was tempted to remove the blanket in order to monitor the child’s condition, but to do so might upset the Restorers and the procedure.

 

     As Sarek watched, the substance continued to spread along his wife’s body until she was completely encased in what could be described as a fluorescent, all encompassing cocoon.  He assumed that the same had occurred to his son’s body.  It arose to the Ambassador that the progression was similar to the way an insect might be ensnared in the sap from an ancient tree, which eventually led to the creature being fossilized in the amber resin.  The sap-like substance that the Medari had expelled didn’t appear to be dense; however, its opaque quality was enough to make it appear solid.

 

     Another flash of light surrounded the Restorers and the two bodies.  As the light faded, Jared once again gasped, but this time it was more like an excited exhale as he spoke.  “There’s movement under the blanket.”

 

     Sarek fixed his eyes on the floor and the bodies of his wife and son.  He, too, could now see a faint shudder that appeared under the coverlet.  It moved through the gel as a wave.  Then, he heard something that he never thought he would hear again.

 

     A tentative whimper from his son.

 

     Both Sarek and Jared started to advance, but the high-pitched shriek of I’Ry’Da stopped them in their tracks.

 

     “Do not interfere!  The procedure must be completed.”

 

     The whimpering was growing in volume even as the Ambassador resisted the urge to move.  He would never jeopardize the chance for Amanda and Spock to be saved, but at what point did he trust his own judgment and shield them from potential impairment?  What did the Medari truly know about the makeup and anatomy of those they were attempting to save?  The definite signs of kicking were evident under the blanket.  Jared’s eyes shone bright as he watched the incredible regeneration.

 

     “Sarek, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

 

     The Vulcan faintly nodded his head.  There was only one problem with Jared’s assertion.  Amanda hadn’t moved and she showed no sign of life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     The Medari Government officials had scattered as the three Starfleet officers once again ducked behind the table.

 

     “This damned table isn’t going to do us a lot of good, you know,” McCoy declared, his gravelly voice low as he took in their worsening circumstances.

 

     “Look at is as moral support, Bones.  Let’s check our equipment again.”  The quick review yielded no promising news.  Phasers and communicators were still inoperative.  The trembling continued as a level, unwavering bass sound filled the air.

 

     “I guess we could roll the table at them, or pick it up and heave it.  Or throw our communicators and phasers at them,” McCoy added, wondering again why he was in the middle of this mess.

 

     “Doctor, I doubt that such actions would be sufficient to stop the Medari, although it might slow them temporarily due to their amusement at our desperation.”  

  

     “You mean that they would laugh at us.”

 

     “That is what I said.”

 

     “No, it’s not!  You said…”

 

     “Gentlemen, we have guests,” Kirk interrupted, his attention focused on the doorway.  Two familiar Medari, their salmon coloring rippling as they moved, made their way onto the terrace.  The three men steeled themselves for the reaction of the Restorers.

 

     “Ah, Federation members.  I see that you did not leave when you had the chance,” I’Ry’Da stated as she neared the middle of the terrace.  “Of course, the Government officials probably blocked your communications and weapons capabilities.”

 

     The Captain moved away from the railing and the table as the Medari closed the gap between them.

 

     “I’Ry’Da, you must be aware of the fact that we didn’t come here as conquerors.  We came here at the request of the now deceased Governor.  There was no way for us to know his motives in inviting us.  There is a Federation ship nearby…the USS Suhl.  She’s a diplomatic ship with members on board that would be happy to mediate a peaceful resolution to the question of the gift that has divided all the Restorers and the Government officials.  Why don’t you allow them to help end the hostilities?”

 

     “NO!”  I’Ry’No said, as she stood next to her sister.  “The Governor would have sold the gift to the Federation and used us as slaves, just as the current Government will do if we don’t crush them now!”

 

     “The Governor had been executed,” Spock noted.  “He is not a factor anymore.  What you should consider is a diplomatic solution to your concerns.  Attempting to keep the Federation away by using terrorist tactics and threats has not worked.  What will work is an open discussion that will benefit all the Medari inhabitants and not just one specific group.  If Medaris as a whole is opposed to joining the Federation, then so be it.  We are not here to force the issue.”

 

     “I am not certain of that, infant,” I’Ry’Da said, her voice low but not menacing.  “We have been threatened with exposure too many times for us to trust the Government.”

 

     “That is why it would be to your advantage to heed the advise of an outside source,” Spock responded.  “That would level the field so that both sides could be equally represented and acknowledged.  Would that not be preferable than the current situation?”

 

     The two Medari seemed to be at a loss for a moment.  Finally, I’Ry’Da spoke.  “We shall consider what you have said, infant.  After all, it is a shame what has happened to you.”

 

     “You refer to the gift not being granted?” the Vulcan inquired, not certain where the conversation was now heading.

 

     “No.  We refer to the fact that we were unsuccessful in the resuscitation of the human female.  Her life force was too far removed by the time we began.  She died and was never restored.”  Both Medari seemed to lean in toward the landing party as I’Ry’Da’s voice softly intoned her next sentences.  “Have you never wondered why you have so little in common with the person you refer to as your Mother, infant?  The truth is that the person you know as your Mother is actually an imposter.  Your real Mother died forty years ago.”

 

     Spock silently absorbed the latest bombshell from I'Ry'Da even as he heard the Captain gasp and the Doctor sputter next to him. After the initial shock, it was quite clear to him that the claim was preposterous, but should not have been unforeseen. It perfectly fit the pattern that the Medari had been using from the initial moments of the landing party's arrival. First, the questionable definition of death that was followed by his near demise at the removal of the life force; then, his father's knowledge of the bombing; and now, his mother's identity. They were all attempts to insidiously damage his perception of his known existence. Why he was the target was not known, but it was now evident that the Medari were not going to stop until they got the response they desired; however, what could that response be? An emotional reaction? Was that what they hoped to detect? Was that what had happened forty years earlier?

        Spock closed his eyes as he reflected on that notion. Perhaps that was what the Medari wanted him to contemplate. Their insistence on referring to him as the infant perhaps meant that he was the immature one they mentioned. Was he the cause of the two diplomats deaths even though he had only been a baby at the time? Now, the Medari wanted to further shake his confidence by alleging that the person he knew as his Mother was a charlatan and that his life was built on a lie.

        As he opened his eyes and prepared to speak, I'Ry'No surprised them all with her response to I'Ry'Da's assertion.

        "My sister! What are you saying? We must speak privately for a moment."

        As the two moved away from the landing party, the three men exchanged exasperated looks. McCoy was shaking his head, his expression one of frustration.

        "I swear if they come back here and say just one more crazy thing, I'll lose it. Do you think this phaser would bounce off of them or stick?"

        "Bones, hang on to your phaser. What do you make of that? It looks a fight of some kind...maybe a little sibling rivalry?" Kirk watched with interest as the two Medari, swaying and moving in an erratic way, squealed in the high-pitched manner of two extremely upset creatures in the middle of an argument. Spock tilted his head as he offered his opinion.

        "Most interesting. I'Ry'Da made the claim that my Mother was not saved; however, I'Ry'No was the Restorer in charge of my Mother's regeneration. Considering the Medari proclivity for over sensitivity, I would propose that I'Ry'No has taken exception to her sister's version of the restoration." McCoy made a scoffing noise as he glared at the First Officer.

        "In other words, I'Ry'Da is lying and I'Ry'No is ticked off at her sister for making it sound like she didn't do her job. Spock, why do you always take a simple question and end up with some long-winded explanation! Just spit it out the next time!"

        "Doctor, I do not spit and my explanations are not long-winded, only accurate. I believe that we shall discover momentarily if my theory is correct." He nodded imperceptibly toward the returning Restorers. I'Ry'Da looked contrite.

        "Infant, I made a mistake. Your Mother did die, as you did; however, she was successfully resuscitated. My apologies to you for my erroneous statement." As I'Ry'Da spoke, her sister stood by her side, the lack of motion illuminating her rage.

        "Indeed, infant. My skills as a Restorer are renowned. My dear sister, I'Ry'Da, was wrong to state that your Mother wasn't restored. I have great powers and used them with the intended result."

        "Except that you didn't grant the gift," McCoy caustically pointed out, biting his tongue as soon as the words slipped out. He couldn't help but wonder if there was anything useful in his medical kit that would take down the squid-like creatures if they got angry and charged. It was always good to have a Plan B, especially with a weak Plan A that only involved throwing objects.

        Much to their relief, both Restorers started to sway as I'Ry'No responded to the Doctor's remark.  "That is true. The gift wasn't granted to either the infant or mother. It is still our belief that the interference of the Ambassador caused the imperfect state."

        "I'Ry'No, what did the Ambassador do that has you convinced he interfered?" McCoy asked, hoping that he wasn't pressing his luck.

        "He removed the infant and mother from us too soon. Perhaps he thought he was protecting them...I cannot say. He should have waited." The Medari almost seemed to sigh as she spoke. The Captain cleared his throat and decided it was time to change the subject back to the present.

        "We would still like to assist you and the Government officials in finding a peaceful resolution to the ongoing conflict involving the gift. The diplomats on the Suhl would be more that willing to help. It seems that I'ji'mo knows about the gift. Perhaps he could gather a group of officials together to meet with you and a group of the Restorers. He is still alive, I assume?"

        The two Medari said nothing for a moment. Finally, I'Ry'Da replied, her voice smooth and clear.

        "Yes, he lives. I executed the Governor and that drained my ability to do anything else, just as the gift cannot be granted over and over within a short period of time. Do you understand, Captain? I have now revealed more that I should. We can be trusted and we want peace. It's just not possible to execute all that would threaten us."

        "I'Ry'Da, while I appreciate your honesty about your abilities, we need some assurance that the diplomats from the Suhl will be safe. You cannot continue to execute those with whom you disagree. You'll have to work with both the Government officials and the Federation diplomats."

        "Indeed," Spock added, his somber timbre adding weight to his words, "The Suhl diplomats will assist in reaching a peaceful resolution to the problems that have plagued you, but you must be willing to listen to those with whom you disagree as well as those with whom you have complete harmony. Is that understood?"

        "Yes, infant, we understand. We shall consider what you have said and are willing to meet with the Government officials and the Federation diplomats. Gentlemen, once I'ji'mo deactivates the energy damper, you may contact your ship and leave."

        "Where are I'ji'mo and the other Medari officials?" Kirk asked, wondering if he would find them as intact as the Restorers seemed to imply.

        "They are unharmed. Frightened, but unharmed. They greatly fear us, as we fear their revealing our gift."

        "Trust will need to be built over time, I'Ry'Da. The first step is to agree to meet without resorting to violence." Spock's proposal was met with silence. At last, I'Ry'Da swayed closer to the landing party. Her sister matched her motions.

        "We agree. No violence. We shall make the arrangements." I'Ry'Da and I'Ry'No quickly turned and left the terrace before the three men could react. The Starfleet officers watched the retreating Medari with a mix of thoughts and emotions. McCoy harrumphed as he glared at the now empty entryway.

        "For some reason, I don't believe them."

        "Bones, we don't have a choice. Someone has to take a chance and hope that the two sides can meet and work out their issues. With any luck, we won't be caught in the middle again. We'll leave as soon as we can contact the Enterprise, which I hope will be as soon as I'ji'mo turns off that blocking devise. Right now, it looks like we wait...yet again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        "I'Ry'Da, what of my wife? There is no movement." Sarek continued to watch expectantly even as he voiced his reservations. His son's whimpering was beginning to quiet down, which further raised his alarm. There seemed to be a lull in the process even as the fluorescent substance that covered Amanda and Spock rippled around them.

        "You should not concern yourself, Ambassador. My sisters are quite capable of granting the gift. It may take longer for the woman. The infant is, after all, smaller. Ah, you see? It is as I said." The men could now see a discernable shiver make its way through Amanda's body...then she cried out weakly, the strange gurgling sound traveling to them through the gel-like material. The impulse to move was only intensified by his wife's groan. Sarek motioned for Jared to move over toward the blanket.

        "Ambassador, what are you doing? It is not time..." I'Ry'Da's voice trailed off as she watched the Vulcan take a step toward the bodies on the floor.

        "I cannot take the chance that they will be harmed by the procedure. They both live and that is what I wanted. I am most grateful." With that, Sarek lunged forward and picked up his wife even as Jared reached down and grabbed the small body covered by the blanket. Instead of the slimy quality he had expected, the gel felt like warm water and had the same effect when he lifted Amanda. The gel fell away from her even before he had straightened up completely and pooled on the metallic floor. Seeing that Jared had already secured his son, Sarek went to join him.

        Surprisingly, the Restorers didn't seem concerned about the sudden abduction of those they had just saved. Their attention was drawn to the entryway of the room as Mr. Carson and two members of the USS Ben Smith's security force entered, phasers at the ready.

        "Ambassador Sarek! What's happened here? Are you alright?" Carson bounded over to the Vulcan even as the Medari backed away from the sudden intrusion.

        "Yes, I am unharmed. There has been a misunderstanding. The Medari moved those killed by the explosion to this building. They erroneously brought my wife and son here. It is time for us to leave. You came by shuttlecraft?" Carson was already passing his tricorder over the still form of Amanda even as he took in the Ambassador's almost edgy desire to leave. Of course, he had to be mistaken since Vulcan's didn't get nervous, but something felt wrong.

        "No, we beamed down once we realized that you were missing. Your wife appears to have some type of possible internal injury, but she's stable.  Mr. Oaks, I hope you have an explanation as to why you're here?" Jared weakly smiled and shrugged.

        "Um, actually..." Sarek smoothly interrupted even as Jared struggled to explain his actions.

        "Mr. Oaks was assisting me in the retrieval of those injured and dead that apparently, Mr. Carson, was beyond the capabilities of your forces. I am most impressed with him. It is now time for us to leave." The last was said not as a request, but as a demand. He wanted to get back to the Ben Smith and away from the possible grasp that the Restorers had on Amanda and Spock. Even as he spoke, he could feel Amanda's shallow breath as she leaned against his shoulder. Pulling her closer, he could see that Jared had wrapped his son in the bloodstained blanket. Carson was now checking the boy, but Sarek could not tell if the boy was conscious from where he stood.  It did not matter. They were both alive.

        "Carson to the transporter room. Stand by. We've found them." Mr. Carson moved over to the two bodies that remained on the floor and looked over to the Ambassador, who nodded.

        "Mr. Marks, beam up with the bodies. Transporter room. Three to beam up." They waited until the sparkle of the beam took the two Federation dead and the security officer back to the ship. Jared checked his communicator and could only raise his eyebrows in confusion at Sarek. The Ambassador didn't appear mystified at all by the immediate ease of contact with the ship.

        "No doubt, Jared, your communicator and phaser are now operable. It is of little consequence at this time."

        "Ambassador, we will contact you about the prosecution of the bombers. There will be punishment for those who killed the diplomats." The Governor's words were met with silence as Sarek focused his attention back to the Medari who had kept a low profile since the arrival of the security force.

        "Governor, I regret that we must leave under these difficult circumstances. I must get my wife and son to the medical facility on board our transport ship. I'Ry'No...I'Ry'Si...You cannot possibly know..." Unable to continue, Sarek nodded to Carson as they prepared to be transported. Just as they felt the first tingle of the beam, I'Ry'No spoke, her tone apparent even as they disappeared in the shimmering light.

        "Don't forget your promise, Ambassador! Don't forget!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

        As they coalesced on the transporter pad of the USS Ben Smith, Jared inwardly grimaced as he identified the elder Vulcan diplomat standing just to the right of the medical personnel. He hadn't liked Sennar before, and now he feared that there was going to be confrontation before they even had a chance to fully materialize. He had also hoped to have the chance to collaborate his story with Sarek about the events on Medaris before any uncomfortable discrepancies were detected.

        "Sarek, I must speak with you at once!" Sennar commanded. Several other words that Jared didn't understand followed. Whatever was said sent Sarek into a flurry of rasping words that the security officer could only assume were Vulcan. Whatever was said didn't sound terribly social; although, to his ears, Vulcan wasn't the most melodious language to begin with. While the verbal barrage continued between the two, Jared stepped off the pad and gently handed the baby over to the young woman he recognized as Miss Glenn. Her eyes were wide as she took the small bundle from the security officer.

        "This blanket is absolutely saturated with blood!" She did a cursory check of the child and her expression changed once again. As she shook her head, she gave Jared a surprised look.

        "I can't find any wounds that would account for this. What in the world happened? Any idea why there is so much blood on this blanket?" Jared shook his head. The baby was quiet, his eyes closed.

        "I'm not sure, Miss Glenn. I would guess that they were next to the two fatalities. I'm just guessing, though."

        "Sarekam, you will tell us what happened." Sennar's demand was met with an equally belligerent response.

        "I am not a child, Sennar! You will address me as Ambassador Sarek or as Mr. Ambassador. I will answer your questions once my wife and son have been attended to." Sarek abruptly realized that he was still holding his wife. Mr. Carson was watching him with an almost amused look on his face.

        "Sir, would you please put your wife on the stretcher? It's hard to examine her like this." Sarek quickly complied even as he fumed over the diminutive that Sennar had used. Only his father had ever called his Sarekam. No one else had that right.

        Walking past the elder Vulcan, Sarek barely controlled his remarks. It was not time to debate his actions. He needed to speak with Jared first; then, and only then, would he speak with the senior diplomat and the Vulcan and Federation delegates.

        After securing his wife and child in the infirmary, Sarek spent over an hour in the security officer's compact cabin working out exactly what would be said about their return trip to the planet's surface. By the time they were done, Jared was exhausted. It was early in the morning before he was able to slide into his cot and allow himself to fall into a restless sleep. Sarek had been called to discuss the disrupted mission with the other diplomats in the hopes of determining a course of action. Jared didn't envy him at all, but Sarek merely raised an eyebrow and left the cabin without comment.

        Roused from his sleep by the chiming alarm, Jared jolted straight up in bed as he realized he had been asleep for nearly six hours. A quick sonic shower and change of clothes helped clear his mind as he wondered what had happened in the interim. After verifying that his shift was being covered (he'd owe his friend Johnson for that), he guardedly made his way to sickbay.

        Much to his surprise, the doors opened to a quiet scene with only one bed occupied. He thought about that a moment. The blast did seem to be very limited in range, which was fortunate for most of those in the Hall. There had been some injuries, but nothing serious enough to cause detainment in sickbay. Thoughtfully, he peered at the sleeping woman and smiled. Cleaned up, she was easily recognized as the attractive woman he had seen at the assembly hall. Glancing around the empty sickbay, he felt a momentary flash of exasperation that there was no guard posted. The danger that existed was such that he couldn't understand the lack of security. Anyone could have walked in. He'd have to bring that to his superior's attention, if he had a superior anymore. Sighing, he left the sickbay and overheard some voices in the Doctor's office next door...along with the cries of an inconsolable baby.

        Approaching the door, Jared heard a woman's muted voice. "He won't take it. Now what?" As the office door opened, the security officer was greeted with the near frenzied screams of a baby that was not close to settling down. Sarek was watching as the nurse held the squirming infant. He tried to calm the baby with some soothing Vulcan words, but that wasn't working; instead, the volume in the room actually seemed to increase.

        Standing in the Doctor's office with his furious son, Sarek couldn't help but wonder how Amanda would handle this. The child was absolutely beyond the point of pacification, and yet, he couldn't recall Spock ever behaving in such a manner in the past. On the other hand, Amanda seemed to know what to do before the child even thought about vocalizing. This, however... A quick sigh escaped as he looked down at the boy. Nothing was helping. The child's refusal to take the bottle was simply illogical. Nourishment was nourishment. It was obvious that he was hungry...

        [[Spock??? NO!! SAREK!!!]]

        Taking the boy from the nurse, Sarek moved hastily past Jared toward sickbay. The security officer followed the quick-moving man; after all, what had caused the Vulcan to react in such a way? As the sickbay doors opened, he could hear the voice of the young woman, her distress and panic obvious in her shaky voice.

        "Is he alright? Oh, Sarek, I was so scared!"

        Jared allowed the doors to shut on the private scene. Smiling, he moved down the hallway and wondered how Sarek had known that his wife was awake. Vulcans were certainly full of surprises, or at least one was. Maybe, before the end of their trip, he would have a chance to meet Sarek's wife and son...properly.

        Sarek watched his wife's frantic check of the baby with an almost stunned sense of alarm. She was shaking so badly that he feared she might drop his son, who was apparently equally stunned by his mother's actions. His sable brown eyes were wide and he had stopped crying; but, as the ministrations of his mother continued, Sarek could see, and hear, that the baby's patience was waning. He had begun an almost plaintive whine that seemed to snap Amanda out of the hysterical state that she was in. She relaxed and started to laugh quietly at the almost pitiful, disheartened sound coming from her little child.

        "Oh, my! You must be so hungry!"

        Watching to see if she needed assistance, Sarek could sense an overpowering, yet serene, settlement of his unease. They had been spared. The Restorers had, indeed, acted to grant their gift to him. He had back the only thing that was of any importance to him.

        They were going to be alright...

        //Sarek, it is time to end the meld//

      The streaming, exposed thoughts ended as he moved to the present and eased his way out of the meld. He knew that it was not as easy to break the meld with a human. The disorientation could be quite overwhelming. T'Iynin had removed her hand from him and was now cautiously separating herself from Amanda, careful not to startle her with the usual break in the psychic thread that generally occurred.

        Saern had begun to scan him with the tricorder even as Sarek became conscious that Inspector T'Pqa was silently observing the situation. She stood in the same spot as when the meld first began and was, no doubt, waiting for the verdict from T'Iynin as to Amanda's status.

        Her hands now folded in front, T'Iynin glanced up at the Inspector. "We may now move T’sai Amanda to the hospital. The meld was successful in reestablishing her consciousness; however, I shall need to meditate on the exact methodology that caused the initial event. My preliminary thought is that there was some alien interference that trapped her mind and threw her into a state of shock. I prefer not to speculate. Let us beam to the hospital."

        "The cause of the distress was not the meld initiated by the Ambassador?" T'Pqa inquired, her eyes sweeping over Sarek as she spoke.

        "It is as I have said. I shall need to meditate on the cause. It is possible that the meld was initiated at or close to the same instance that the alien presence was attempting to destroy T’sai Amanda's awareness."

        "A coincidence." Sarek murmured, but was easily overheard by the Healer.

        "I have heard the human term. It is, perhaps, the best description of the timing of the events of the day." For a moment, Sarek thought he detected a tiny trace of humor in the woman's words, but she was now standing and looked over at Saern. "She is still unconscious, but it is safe to move her now."

        Saern had already contacted the hospital and, as the sparkle of the transporter beam took him, Sarek considered what T'Iynin had said. An alien presence...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        The nearly imperceptible hum of the medical sensors was the only sound in the hospital room. The room's sparse functionality was typical...the two chairs that were presently occupied by Sarek and the Healer T'Iynin were not. After all, the purpose of hospitalization was to recover from illness or injury. The Healers were quite capable of handling any contingency or emergency; therefore, once recovery was assured, the family would be called and the patient would be transported home. If recovery were not possible, then the family would make the decision as to the continued logic of treatment or hospitalization. To hold a vigil...illogical. Saern had advised him that as soon as Amanda woke, he would be summoned. And yet, Sarek and T'Iynin had, with an unspoken, mutual agreement, moved the chairs into the room. He knew his reasons had nothing to do with a rational, well considered process: he simply did not want Amanda to wake up alone. T'Iynin's motives in staying piqued his curiosity, but she appeared to be deep in meditation and he could not question her. He would never disturb the ruminations of a Healer. The Inspector's presence in the corner of the room was expected. She reminded Sarek of a le'matya, waiting patiently for its prey to move. He closed his eyes at the illogical thought. Perhaps he should meditate, too.

        After contacting the Academy to inform them of Amanda's condition, Sarek spoke with his aides to verify that no further emergencies existed that required his immediate attention. Of course, there were minor incidents...a possible breach of the neutral zone by the Romulans, a trade dispute involving a small dilithium mining outpost...nothing that required his services as of yet.  Surprisingly, the Enterprise had not yet contacted the Embassy. The continued lack of response was likely easily explained; but, after the events of the day, Sarek wondered how much of the silence had to do with the Enterprise crews' dealings with the Medari. He also wondered at the Healers use of the words 'alien presence'. Reluctantly, he acknowledged that he had felt something, too. The only logical conclusion was that the Restorers had somehow 'marked' Amanda. It would allow the Restorers the ability to remove the gift if they felt that Sarek's agreement with them had been broken. And Spock... Sarek realized that it was very possible he had been too vague in his warning to his son. What could have been said, however, to avoid raising the ire of the Medari?

        His last contact had been to Earth: more specifically, the Federation Security Council. After several minutes, a familiar, grinning face had appeared. The man's gregarious nature seemed to flow through the comm.

        "Sarek! What a surprise! So, are you still married?" It had become a private joke after Jared's first 'official' meeting with Sarek's wife and son. Sarek, like Jared, had not considered how Amanda would construe their actions. Jared still remembered entering the sickbay. Sarek was standing next to the bed in which his wife and son lay. Propped up with several pillows, Jared could see that Amanda was busy extricating a tiny fist from the baby's mouth as he lay sprawled out on her lap. The huge smile on the security officer's face quickly faded as he took in the look on Amanda's face when she saw him. She was absolutely furious. Sarek hadn't seen the look as he moved over to introduce the security officer to his wife.

        "Mr. Jared Oaks. I would like you to meet Amanda, she who is my wife. My son, Spock...you may have heard him earlier in the doctor's office. I believe everyone onboard may have heard him." Sarek had moved to his wife's side, and Jared wondered at the symbolism of the paired fingers that Sarek offered to Amanda. She met his hand in an identical fashion, but Jared could tell something was 'off'. Sarek almost appeared startled as he looked down and finally realized that his wife was anything but pleased to be meeting the man she deemed had acted in a most callous manner with her husband's life.

        "So...Mr. Jared Oaks. Tell me...what security officer in his right mind beams back to a dangerous planet with the likely intended target of a bombing? I hope you enjoyed your work for the diplomatic corp...It will be your last."

        The conversation went downhill from there. The realization that this woman was used to reading the tiniest changes of expression hit the security officer and he came to one conclusion...he was doomed. Finally, Jared did what he always did whenever he and his wife got into an argument. He agreed with her one hundred percent. Yes, he had been wrong. Yes, he was incompetent. Yes, he had not thought of the consequences of his actions. No, he didn't deserve another chance. Yes, he was to be reprimanded. Finally, realizing that it was now impossible to argue with him, Amanda turned her fury on Sarek, who had been unusually quiet the entire time.

        "And you! Sarek, what is wrong with you? I can't believe that you would do such a thing. I would appreciate it if you would have a doctor check you over. You may have been injured. From your actions, I would suspect a possible head injury. Please..."

        "Amanda, there is nothing wrong with me. I was not injured in the blast. The security forces were unable to find you. It is as I said. You and Spock were moved by accident to the adjacent building next to the Great Hall. If I hadn't..."

        "The security forces could have found us! Sarek, I know you must have been under some strange influence..." She pointedly stared at Jared, who had the good sense to say nothing. "My husband could have been killed. Sarek, what would have happened if you had been killed? It's hard enough to know that Li and Ursula are gone. I just don't understand it. We were all right there together...Li had her hand on my arm..." She looked down at the baby as the security officer noted tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Jared allowed her a moment to collect herself before he spoke.

        "Um, Mrs. Sarek...um, I can assure you that I was well armed. If Sarek had been in any danger..." He realized too late that it was the wrong thing to say.

        "You will address my husband as Ambassador Sarek or Mr. Ambassador! Really! This complete familiarity is totally disrespectful. Believe me when I say that you will be lucky to find work as a trader in kevas and trillium by the time I'm through..."

 

        It was at that point that, as far as Jared was concerned, a minor miracle occurred. The baby had continued to try to put his entire fist in his mouth, alternating right and left, and Amanda had continued to patiently pull his hands away. Apparently not satisfied with one, the baby had attempted to put both fists in and began to gag. Startled by the choking sound, Amanda picked up the now frightened child as he sputtered and coughed. Once it became clear that he was fine, she shook her head and sighed.

        "Maybe it would be best if you left, Mr. Oaks. I would like to speak with my husband in private."

        "Amanda, you need to rest. You are still recovering from your injuries. I shall take Spock with me." Sarek’s firm tone didn’t allow for a rejoinder.

        Certain that there was a silent conspiracy at work, Amanda sighed once again. "Very well. The doctor told me that I might require another transfusion...it really makes no sense. My injuries shouldn't have required a blood transfusion at all. Oh, were you able to discover what the medical staff did with the jumper and my dress? While this sickbay gown is comfortable, I really would like to have those items back for later."

        "Unfortunately, no. I have not discovered what happened to them. My wife, they are not important."

        "Well, I really don't want to have to explain to your mother that the jumper was lost."

        "I will explain it to her. You are worrying over trivial matters when you should be resting. We shall leave and I want you to sleep." Sarek watched as Amanda pursed her lips as if to reply, but then she wearily nodded. Handing the baby over to her husband, Amanda smiled at them.

        "Fine. You know where I am when you need me. Try to keep his fists out of his mouth...teething." She added the last as an explanation, and Jared nodded knowingly.

        "Yeah, my two could drool with the best of them." For just a flash of a second, the security officer thought Amanda would agree with him, but her expression changed back to a wary look of distrust.

        After leaving sickbay, Jared realized that he had been holding his breath, and he exhaled. Sarek said nothing for a moment, even as the baby found his right fist.

        "I congratulate you, Jared. Many have crumbled under less scrutiny from my wife." Jared smiled at the comment.

        "Yeah...I feel like I've just won a contest or something. So, did she believe us?"

        "No. It will take more than a minor distraction to stop her. She is obviously not fully recovered. I shall do what I can to convince her that the entire situation on Medaris should not be discussed, but I cannot say if I will be successful."

        "If you're not, then what?" Jared was certain that he saw a very slight twitch of the Vulcan's mouth.

        "Then I will likely find myself involved a most disagreeable argument. That is something I wish to avoid since I would prefer to remain married."

        Jared shook his head even as his grin increased in size. "Good luck. Pretty, headstrong women are a weakness of mine, too." Looking down at the now content baby, several fingers crookedly stuck in his mouth, Jared carefully removed the offending digits as he spoke to the child. "I owe you, little man. Just remember, us men need to stick together, especially when confronted with a very suspicious woman." The solemn brown eyes of the baby observed the security officer in such a way that Jared felt momentarily uncomfortable. It’s like he can really understand, he thought.

        Coming back to the present, Jared observed the Vulcan nod once at him. "Yes, Jared. I am still married. I am contacting you to inform you that Amanda is now aware of the events that occurred on Medaris. All of the events." Jared started at that as his eyes widened.

        "Everything? But, I thought you couldn't talk about it for fear that the Restorers would try to kill her!"

        "I suspect that the Medari did try to take her life, but the attempt was unsuccessful. I only wanted you to know that there is no longer a reason for secrecy."

        "She's alright? And Spock? Is he alright?"

        "Amanda is recovering in the Academy hospital. I have not heard from my son, but I trust that he is well. The official Medari list of those killed remains at five, just as the official Federation record remains at three."

        "I appreciate your call, Sarek. Maybe now she'll understand why we acted as we did." Amanda had never warmed up to him due to her conviction that he had acted as some chivalrous hero and risked her husband's life in the process. When Sarek had assisted him in getting another position on Earth, he was convinced that the Vulcan was living on borrowed time. Amanda had been beside herself with anger over Sarek's unexplained interest in helping him. "I'm not sure it will help matters. It has been over forty years and she has never liked me."

        "Perhaps it will not matter; however, I believe that she will understand and I wanted you to know. I must return to her room now. Peace and long life to you, Jared." He held up his hand in the Vulcan ta'al. Jared smiled and returned the gesture.

        "Live long and prosper, Sarek. Let me know if you need asylum on Earth. Once Amanda realizes that we didn't tell her the whole story, you might need it."

        Returning to the room, Sarek observed that T'Iynin had completed her meditation and was checking the readouts above his wife's head. Nodding approval of the data, she sat back down next to Sarek. Casual conversation was not something that Vulcans indulged in; however, T'Iynin spoke to the Ambassador, her tone thoughtful.

        "Ambassador, may I ask you a question about the meld?"

        "A question?"

        "Yes. At the onset of the meld, you had a certain expectation...an expectation of warmth. I also noted that your bond with her is quite deep. I was not aware that humans had such abilities."

        "I cannot speak for all humans, T'Iynin. As for the expectation...it is that way with my wife. I cannot, nor do I wish to, explain further." Sarek's tone left no doubt that he would not entertain further questions. Why anyone would be interested in details of his marriage was completely incongruous to him. It had happened before and was always a shock when he would be asked personal questions. Privacy was highly valued on a planet of telepaths, and if anyone should know that, it would be a Healer. Judging from her age and rather unorthodox name, however, Sarek was willing to allow her some leniency.

        "Forgive my questions, sir. I only meant that I have encountered Vulcans who do not have such a strong bond. It seems to be increasingly rare. Many are now unbonded and prefer to remain that way. I did not know if you were aware of the trend or of the uncommon link you have. I have noticed that there are few 'perfect' marriages between bondsmates joined as children."

        At her unsolicited statement, Sarek forced back his first response. He had been in a 'perfect' marriage. His union with T'Rea was supposed to be the ideal...a gorgeous, dark, willowy beauty bonded to a future rising diplomat. Both families were venerated and greatly respected. Everything was to be 'perfect'; and yet, Sarek could now admit that he had never been in a more stilted, tense environment than when he was with T'Rea. Ironically, if she hadn't decided to become an adept at Gol, he would probably have still been married to her. She was, after all, 'ideal'. Five years after the divorce, his Father recommended that Sarek's training as a diplomat might benefit if he went to Earth for a while. It was at that time that he met Amanda. It had worried him that he was perhaps responding to her, not by some natural attraction, but due to the fact that she was very near the opposite of T'Rea in practically every way. Eventually, he decided that his concern was unfounded.  His marriage with Amanda, while looked upon by some as illogical, met his exacting standards of perfection.

        "T'Iynin, I do understand far better than most,” he allowed, a trace of humor lacing his words.  “I prefer not to speak of private matters."

        "Of course. She is waking up."

        Both Vulcans leaned forward slightly even as the Inspector stepped forward. Moving her head from side to side, Amanda seemed to be fighting to regain consciousness. Sarek glanced over at the Healer, but she seemed unconcerned. Finally, her blue eyes opened, but there was a dazed look of confusion in them. She finally spoke, but her words were not what anyone expected. Especially her husband.

        "Sarek...please...tell me it's not true...tell me Spock isn't dead..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “Well, Jim, how long do we wait?  Scotty is going to start getting worried and might send down a search party for us.”  McCoy watched the Captain’s pace slow as he considered the question.  Frustration was evident on his face as he replied.

 

     “I know, Bones, I know.  This has been the biggest ‘hurry up and wait’ fiasco I think I’ve ever been it.  It’s no wonder I’m not interested in a diplomatic career.  It would drive me crazy.”

 

     The men had ultimately given up hope that the Medari would be returning soon.  They couldn’t say if that was a good thing or not.  Perhaps the Restorers and the Government officials were truly making the arrangements to meet with the Suhl diplomats.  Or, perhaps they were killing each other.  Sighing, Kirk stopped his assault on the terrace pavement and leaned against the railing.  McCoy chuckled, which caused the Captain to give him a questioning look.

 

     “You know, Jim, five years ago, maybe even as little as two years ago, you would’ve stormed into that building and found out what the hell was going on.  I think you have a touch of short timers disease.  You know, you always hear about those ships that are making a milk run and end up lost.  Or return after years in deep space, only to be destroyed in some freak accident in space dock.  That, my friend, is what your problem is.  We’re too close to the end.  In a couple of months, we’re all going to be scattered…and you don’t want to risk anyone not making it back.”

 

     Kirk felt an angry retort to the Doctor’s assessment build within him, but he let the words die on his lips.  Softly, he countered the Doctor’s words.

 

     “So…are you saying that I’ve grown soft over the years?  Too afraid to take a chance?”

 

     “No, I’m saying that you care too much for this crew to risk them not getting home.  It’s not a bad thing, Jim.  It’s just not your usual style.  It’s not the ‘going in where angels fear to tread’ Kirk that I’m used to.  Now, it’s true that I didn’t want to beam down, but even that wasn’t such a big deal.  I mean, you did plan to talk with the Governor.  What I’m trying to say is that some of your passion for exploration has been worn a little thin by being out here for five years.  We need a break, not just from this mission, but possibly from each other.”

 

     Silence followed the Doctor’s opinion.  Looking down, the Captain knew that his friend was right.  He didn’t want to have to contact any more families about the loss of their loved ones.  Death seemed to haunt their voyage and the final tally was far too high; and yet, there were already signs that they would be welcomed back to Earth as heroes.  Kirk knew there were many within the crew that deserved that title, but he didn’t feel comfortable with it.  Were they heroes simply because they survived?  Were they being rewarded because they were on board the right ship at the right place and time?

 

     Spock had said nothing since the departure of the Medari.  The Captain observed his First Officer as he thought about the approaching end of their mission.  There appeared to be a definite distance growing between them, and Kirk keenly felt the change.  Spock’s refusal to discuss his plans bothered him.  No, it was deeper than that.  He had thought that they were more like brothers than just shipmates, but apparently that wasn’t how the Vulcan saw it.  Spock’s cool reserve was always present, but Kirk could feel a need…perhaps a desire…to detach even further from those he had served with.  Spock and McCoy still continued their animosity ‘game’, but even it was lacking its usual fire.  As if he were the one who could actually read minds, McCoy glanced over at Spock.

 

     “Hey, Spock.  Why is it that you haven’t told us what you have planned for after the mission?  I know you said you were going to Vulcan, but why?”

 

     The questions remained unanswered.  Spock was either ignoring the Doctor or had simply not heard him.  The deep meditative state that he was in once again bothered the Captain.  It bothered the Doctor even more.

 

     “Hey!  I’m talking to you.  Don’t pretend that you don’t hear me.  Why are you going to Vulcan?”

 

     Spock took in a deep breath as his eyes slowly slid open.  Some look…Kirk decided it was possibly aggravation…seemed to cross the Vulcan’s face just before he composed himself.  “Doctor, my plans do not involve you.  Those plans have not been finalized; therefore, it would be illogical to discuss them.”

 

     “Fine.  Don’t.  I don’t care.”  The words were angry, but there was an undercurrent of hurt that the Captain could clearly hear.  He felt the same way.  Why the secrecy?  Why the sudden interest in the Vulcan disciplines?  How exactly had Spock viewed their mission?

 

     “Gentlemen!”

 

     Kirk silently cursed as he realized he had been distracted from the entryway of the residence.  The Medari were moving toward them, and it was a relief to see that I’Ry’Da and her sister were with the Government officials in apparent accord.  I’ji’mo addressed them again.  “Gentlemen!  Good news!  We have talked with several members of the diplomatic team on the USS Suhl and have agreed to meet.  It is time for us to stop the threats against each other.  It is time that we worked through our problems peacefully.”

 

     The three men had stood and regarded the words of the official.  Kirk nodded as he responded.  “That is wonderful news, I’ji’mo.  I’m certain that you’ll be able to work through your issues and end the hostilities.”

 

     “Yes, we hope so.  Federation membership is still our intended goal.  Thank you, Captain, for your patience.  We have much to do, but this first step could not have taken place if you had not shown the maturity of patience.”

 

     Something in the words struck Kirk as strange, but he allowed the feeling to pass as he smiled.

 

     “Well, I have heard that patience is a virtue.  Perhaps, after all these years, I’m finally beginning to see its value.”

 

     The swaying Medari appeared to concur.  I’ji’mo touched several spots on the devise he held.  “You are free to go.  We apologize for not allowing you access to your weapons or to your ship.  We hope you understand.”

 

     “Of course.  Just remember that it is essential that you work together to reach an agreement that benefits all Medari.”  The Captain pulled out his communicator.

 

     “Kirk to Enterprise.”  There was hardly a pause before a familiar Scottish brogue replied.

 

     “Capt’n!  We were beginnin’ to worry.”

 

    “Three to beam up.  And…thanks for the concern.”

 

     “Aye, sair.  Beaming up now.”

 

     As the transporter beam caught and removed them from the planet, Kirk wondered if they were truly free of the influence of the Medari.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “Amanda, Spock is alive.”  Sarek watched with alarm as Amanda shook her head, trembling with fear.

 

     “No, I saw him.  I saw…” She stopped as she took in her surroundings.  The play of emotions across her face ran the gamut from fear, to shock, to confusion, to a desire for control.  Confusion won.

 

     “Where am I?  And why do I feel like someone sat on my chest?”  Sarek raised an eyebrow at her odd assessment of her physical condition.  T’Iynin answered her question with a surprising gentle, yet firm, tone.

 

     “T’sai Amanda, you are in the Academy hospital where you were admitted after an incident that required your husband to employ a form of manual cardiopulmonary resuscitation.  The tightness you feel is due to the bruising of the sternum and will eventually improve.”

 

     “Resuscitation?”  Amanda repeated the word, and her questioning gaze fell on her husband.  “The last thing I remember, we were engaged in a mind meld.”  Her eyes narrowed even as a glint of humor filled them.  “See if we ever do that again.”

 

     “Are you saying that the meld was against your will?”  The voice came from the corner of the room as Amanda noticed the Inspector for the first time.  Trusting her instinct that something was amiss and her response was crucial, she solemnly answered.

 

     “No, it was by mutual agreement.  We were attempting to recall a past event that involved a failed diplomatic mission.  The meld was the only way to expediently discover what happened.”

 

    “May I ask what you remember of your memories from the time of the blast until the resumption of the meld?”  Once again, Sarek was impressed by T’Iynin’s calm way with his wife.  Amanda’s face clouded over as she recalled the specific time.

 

     “I remember the bright light of the explosion…then I felt a sensation of falling.  Then, there was a feeling of submersion, as if I was underwater.  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t break free…something held me…almost physically…even as I heard…” She looked at Sarek.  “I heard you.  I tried to respond, but I couldn’t.  Then, it released me.”

 

     “What was it?”  The curiosity of the other Vulcan’s in the room matched the Healer’s as they waited for an answer.  Amanda shook her head as she exhaled.  The action caused her to wince as the sore sternum protested.

 

     “I’m not sure.  It was as if part of me rebelled and forced my mind to retreat into a dark…corner.  It makes no sense, I know.”  Shivering, she closed her eyes.  “You don’t think that it could be some form of alien mind control, do you?”

 

     For a moment, those in the room considered the question.  T’Iynin finally spoke, her words carefully chosen.

 

     “We have contemplated such a possibility.  You must know that your husband and I did sense an unidentified presence at the time we re-established contact with your suppressed consciousness.  It is our believe that the Medari attempted to remove your life force as they had threatened to do if contact with the Federation was initiated in any way.  It is also my belief that the presence is gone.”

 

     “But, you’re not sure.  If it could be there undetected for years, how do you know that it’s still not there?”

 

     “I cannot say other than it is my belief.  The sensation of the presence leaving was quite strong.  It appeared to hide in your subconscious, which might explain your outburst about your son when you regained consciousness.”

 

     Sarek watched as Amanda flushed slightly.  He understood then what had happened.

 

     “My wife, was it the old nightmare?”

 

     He observed her eyes flash for a second in anger.  Sarek knew that it had been several years since the last nightmare; and yet, for some unfathomable reason, they greatly embarrassed her.  Why, he didn’t know, but Amanda looked upon it as some form of weakness.  It had not surprised him when the nightmares began around the time of Spock’s leaving for Starfleet.  It had not even surprised him when they intensified after his assignment to the Enterprise.  What surprised him was that the nightmare always remained the same.  Each time, the nightmare involved Spock’s death.  The description of the scene also remained constant…always on a starship…always involving what she called a ‘column of fire’…and always involving her as a passive observer of the scene.  Knowing that an uncontrolled fire was one of the greatest threats to a starship, Sarek surmised that Amanda had combined all her fears into the nightmare scenario in which she was only an observer and couldn’t act to save her son.  It was the only logical explanation he could determine.

 

     “Yes.  I guess examining the events on Medaris triggered it again.  I’ll be so happy when he’s back here safe.”  Glancing over to the Healer, she flushed an even deeper shade of red.  “It’s an old, and very foolish, nightmare I have about my son’s death.  I’m sorry for my outburst.”

 

     “Do not apologize.  The events of this day will need to be examined for some time to come.”  A chime sounded on a monitor near the doorway and the Inspector answered the call.  Turning, she addressed Sarek.

 

    “Ambassador, you have a message waiting for you at the nurses station.  Since it is clear that no crime was committed involving the mind meld, I shall take my leave of you.”  Without another word, the Inspector left.  Sarek noted Amanda’s shock at the word ‘crime’ even as he felt relief that Inspector T’Pqa was satisfied that he was innocent of any wrongdoing.  Reaching down, he gratefully felt his wife’s touch once again.  She was looking at him quizzically.

 

     “Do hurry back, my husband.  I’d like to know about your criminal past.”

 

     T’Iynin appeared ready to defend him, but Sarek negated her response with a shake of his head.  Leaving the room, he made his way to the nurse’s station and checked the identity of the caller.  The screen cleared and the welcome sight of his son appeared.

 

     “My son.  You are uninjured?”  Sarek considered the blunt and non-traditional way he had begun the conversation, but it didn’t appear to faze his son.

 

     “I am uninjured.  I trust that Mother is well?  The Medari made some threats against us and implied that they could possibly harm us both, no matter the distance.”

 

     “She is recovering.  We were most concerned about your welfare due to the proximity of the Enterprise to Medaris.  What happened?”

 

     With his usual thoroughness, Spock went through the timeline of events, from the moment of the first contact with the Governor to the promise of a possible end of the hostilities.  Sarek thoughtfully nodded his approval.

 

     “Very good.  It is commendable that the Medari have agreed to meet.  Now that the USS Suhl has taken over the negotiations, what is your next destination, if you can tell me?”

 

     “It is not classified.  We are to transfer twelve crewmembers to Starbase 8 and deliver some medical and laboratory supplies.  Then, we are to return to Earth to be debriefed.”

 

     “Excellent.  Your Mother and I anticipate that your arrival on Vulcan should coincide with the naming ceremony of your cousin Sterl’s first daughter.  You will attend the ceremony?”

 

     It was barely a question, and Spock knew what the expected response should be.  He lowered his eyes briefly and, when he looked up, a cold determination had settled on his features.  “No, Father, I shall not attend the ceremony.  I have made other plans.  I also shall not be staying with you since the plans involve a different living arrangement.”

 

     Sarek forced back his retort at the insult.  To not attend a family function of such importance was bad enough, but to refuse the hospitality of his parents was bordering on contempt.  “What other arrangements have you made?  Explain.”

 

     “Father, I cannot at this time since the plans are still in flux.  I must take my leave of you now.  The channel is needed by others.”

 

     “Yes, of course.  Do you have a message for your Mother?  I know that she will be disappointed that you will not be staying with us.”

 

     For a moment, Sarek thought that Spock wanted to say something, but just a quickly, the neutral, unemotional mask returned.  “No.  I shall speak with you both upon my return to Vulcan.”  Raising his hand, Spock saluted his father with the ta’al and Sarek returned the gesture.

 

     “Live long and prosper, Father.”

 

     “Live long and prosper, my son.”

 

     For several moments, Sarek stared at the blank screen.  He had thought that the contact with his son would ease his mind.  Standing at the station, he gazed down the hallway toward his wife’s room.  He knew that the irritation he felt was due to the dismissive way Spock had just acted.  Now, he needed to find a way to break the news that Spock wouldn’t be staying with them, not even briefly.

 

     His plans didn’t appear to include them at all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Standing just outside the hospital room door, Sarek collected his thoughts once again as he prepared to enter the room.  It was illogical to delay the unavoidable reaction of his wife to the disturbing news about Spock’s decision not to stay with them.  But it was perhaps his own reaction that was unsettling him more.  He could sense a growing conviction that his son’s return to Vulcan might drive a wedge once more between them, and that was something he wanted to avoid.

 

     The last time that had happened had been the only time he had thought that his wife would leave him.  After Amanda had left with Spock to take him to the Earthbound shuttle, Sarek had, rather unconsciously, moved through the house to see if any of her personal items were missing.  None were.  Several hours passed, and she returned alone.  He had retreated to his office, and, when she didn’t come in after awhile, he sought her where he expected to find her.  She sat on her favorite bench in the garden near several rose bushes that had recently been cut back.  The lifeless appearance of the sharp barbed plants mirrored Amanda’s pale face in the fading light.  Without looking in his direction, she spoke.  The exact words were still emblazoned in his memory even after 20 years.

 

     “I’m not here because I agree with you.  In fact, I had planned to leave.  The only reason I’m here at this time is because of our vows.  I take them very seriously.  Some day soon, you’re going to realize you made a mistake.  I just hope I’m not making one by staying.”

 

     It had taken him 18 years to reconcile with his son.  A brief amount of time for a Vulcan, but far too long for a human.

 

     Amanda and T’Iynin were engaged in conversation as the door opened.  He only heard a portion of the Healer’s words as he stepped into the room.

 

     “…no, I have not been told that such actions are necessary with a psi-sensitive child.”

 

     Noting the open door, both women turned, the Healer’s face composed, while Amanda’s was filled with expectation.

 

     “Was it Spock?”

 

     “Yes.”

 

     He knew even as he watched his wife’s smile weaken that this might be more difficult than he had anticipated.

 

     “Why didn’t you transfer the call to the monitor in here?”  She watched as Sarek sank into the chair next to T’Iynin.

 

     “He had a limited time to speak.  He is well and will be planet side in a few months as expected.”

 

     “He’s alright.  What a relief!  I wish he had a more specific date in mind, although I’ll be home anyway, so it really doesn’t matter.”

 

     “He will not be staying with us.  He has made other arrangements.”

 

     The instantaneous change in his wife’s mood was not unexpected.  Years ago, she had explained to him that she ‘wore her heart on her sleeve’.  After asking for enlightenment over the rather grotesque idiom, she had told him it meant that she could be ‘read like a book’.  Realizing that she had answered with another idiom had sent her into peals of laughter even as he began to wonder if he would have to have a translator present just to talk with her.  Now, he understood her clearly.

 

     “Oh.  Other arrangements?”

 

     “He did not offer further details.  We will talk with him upon his return.”

 

     Watching her expression fall, he once again sensed the vague belief that all was not well with Spock’s decision to return to Vulcan.  The mysterious qualities of his son’s actions were not appreciated.

 

     The Healer stood and nodded slightly to Amanda.  “I trust that we shall have the opportunity to speak again soon.  I shall take my leave of you now, T’sai Amanda.  Ambassador, you may stay for 53.42 minutes, and then visiting hours will end.  It is important that she rest.”  With another quick nod, she left.

 

     Finally alone together, Amanda sighed and leaned heavily into the two pillows she had requested.  “Rest.  After this day, I may need a vacation.”  A sober look settled on her as she watched Sarek’s disquiet.  “Why won’t he tell us what he has planned?  I know he was disappointed by my inability to help him with my memories of Medaris, and he’s probably not too pleased about your attempt to dissuade him from learning more about the Assembly Hall meeting; but, why does he always do this?”

 

     “What do you mean?”

 

     “What he always does.  He shuts down in an effort to drive those who care away.  I’ll guarantee that he’s not said a word to Jim or the Doctor, either.  He wants to be the one in control…wonder where he got that from.”  Her voice trailed off.

 

     “He will let us know when he is ready.”

 

     “But, what if he’s making a mistake!  I know, I know, he’s an adult.  I still don’t understand his motives in keeping everything so secretive.  I guess he came by that honestly, too.”

 

     A muted calm filled the room.  Amanda closed her eyes briefly; then, realizing how easy it would be to drift off to sleep, she snapped them back open.  Sarek watched this display with thinly veiled amusement dancing in his eyes.

 

     “You are tired.  I shall leave and…”

 

     “Don’t you dare!  I’m too tired to sleep.  You have a great deal to explain, starting with the reason there was an Inspector in the room when I woke up.”

 

     “The Healers suspected that I harmed you intentionally with the meld.”

 

     Eyes wide, Amanda gasped.  “That’s crazy!  Of course you didn’t intend to harm me.  I don’t understand what went wrong, but I know you didn’t have anything to do with it.  It was that…thing.”  Shuddering, she put her arms around her middle even as Sarek leaned forward.

 

     “What do you remember of the entity?  You must know that it is gone.”

 

     “Are you sure?  T’Iynin believes that it was some type of latent, subconscious memory tracker that, once activated, told the Restorers that you had reneged on your promise.  It would flood the reminiscence of the person who had the activated tracker back to the time of the Assembly Hall meeting.  That, she said, was why I was suddenly feeling so overwhelmed.  That was what I was feeling at that particular moment.  I would suspect that a similar thing happened to Spock, even though he was only a baby at the time.”

 

     “The mention of Medaris may well have been the ‘trigger’ that you mentioned earlier in my office.  The Restorer’s control over you was only temporary; however, it would have been fatal if you had been alone.”

 

     Sarek noticed the shiver that went through his wife as she considered his words.

 

     “It was fortunate that you were home.  You have now saved my life not once, but twice.  How shall I ever repay you?”  The twinkle in her eyes was a welcome sight after the events of the day.  Sarek raised an eyebrow.

 

     “Repayment could be costly.  I cannot take responsibility for saving your life on Medaris.  The Restorers saved you.”

 

     “But, if you hadn’t beamed down, they would probably have saved Li and Ursula.  That would have been the logical thing to do, anyway.  Something made I’Ry’Da change her mind.  I don’t understand why they decided to save us instead of the diplomats.”

 

     “I’Ry’Da has never revealed her reasons to me.  Amanda, what were you discussing with T’Iynin when I came in the room?  Forgive my inquisitiveness, but I assumed that you were talking about our son.”

 

     Her eyes seemed to darken even as her expression changed.  For a moment, Sarek thought she might not answer, but she finally looked up, her voice soft.  “Yes, it was about Spock.  Only a short time ago, I realized that what I had done by learning to shield when he was a baby was detrimental to him.  Since I was blocking my emotions, the implication would be that emotions are bad and need to be avoided.  The problem actually began when we decided to split everything into Human and Vulcan.  Humans are emotional.  Vulcans are logical.  End of discussion.  There was never room for any overlap or acknowledgement that humans can use logic and Vulcans do have emotions, however deeply buried they are.  If Vulcan is the ideal, then where does that leave me?”  Amanda was staring intently at the bed cover as she spoke.  “That’s what worries me about Spock’s return to Vulcan.  First, he leaves Vulcan for Starfleet to find…something.  Now, he’s returning.  He’s looking for something that he couldn’t find in either place.  I just wish I knew what it was.”

 

     Silence once again filled the room.  Remembering his terse conversation with T’Iynin over her questions about their bonding, Sarek leaned back in his chair and steeped his fingers as Amanda watched, curious over his sudden contemplative act.

 

     “My wife, I cannot say what Spock is searching for.  He has always been highly inquisitive and intelligent.  To speculate on our son’s actions is illogical.  It is as I said earlier.  We will discover his plans when he returns.”  Deciding to change the subject, Sarek continued.  “I have a question for you concerning matters of privacy.”

 

     Sarek’s face was unreadable, but Amanda noted the very slight change in tone.  Composing herself for what she believed was coming, she turned her questioning gaze on her husband.

 

     “Privacy?  What about privacy?”

 

     “T’Iynin asked a question about our marital bond just prior to your regaining consciousness.  I am quite amazed by the incessant number of questions I am asked about our marriage, but I believe I have arrived at an appropriate solution.”

 

     Amanda, now openly curious, forced back a smile that played for a second on her lips.

 

     “What solution is that?”

 

     “I shall write a book.”

 

     Holding back the laugh that was building was nearly impossible, but she did it.

 

     “A book?  I don’t understand.”

 

     “I shall write a book that will include every question that I have ever been asked concerning our marriage.  Then, when a query is raised, I shall simply refer to the book, chapter and page number, and be done with it.  Would you agree that such a book would be vastly more practical than time spent answering questions?”

 

     “So, you’re going to carry this book around with you and hand it to the person asking the question?”

 

     “If necessary.  More than one copy would be needed.”

 

     “You’re going to publish it?”

 

     “Should others be interested, yes.”

 

     Chewing on her bottom lip, Amanda seemed to be deep in thought.

 

     “Yes, Sarek, I think that’s an excellent idea.  In fact, I’ll write a book, too.”

 

     “You propose a collaboration?”

 

     “Oh, no!  You write your book and I’ll write mine.”

 

     “Do you consider your literary skills superior to mine?”

 

     “No, not at all.  It’s just that we’ll no doubt be answering different questions.”

 

     The banter between them paused as Sarek puzzled over his wife’s conviction.

 

     “How so?  I would believe that we are asked similar questions.”

 

     Amanda shrugged and leaned back into the pillows.

 

     “I don’t think so.”

 

     “Explain.”

 

     “I would guess that most of the questions you are asked begin with the word ‘why’.  Why did you marry a human?  Why did you break with tradition to do so?  Why, why, why.  Most of the questions I answer seem to begin with the word ‘how’.”

 

     “ ‘How’?  I do not understand.”

 

     Closing her eyes for dramatic effect, she sighed and then blinked innocently at her husband.

 

     “You know…how did you meet your husband?  How did you have a baby with a Vulcan?  How often do you and your husband…”

 

     “Amanda!  You are not asked such questions!”  Sarek meant it to be a question, but realized it was more of a demand.  His wife was unfazed.

 

     “Sarek, you have no idea.”

 

     Fiddling with the edge of her blanket, Amanda knew she didn’t dare look at Sarek.  Her desire to scream with laughter was very close to the surface.  One look…

 

     “My wife, I have reconsidered.  For the preservation of Vulcan society, we shall refrain from any literary pursuits.”

 

     As he passed the room of the one human occupant in the hospital, Saern was at first alarmed by the sound he heard emitting through the door.  Pausing, he turned his head slightly to one side to determine if there was a need for an immediate response.  Finally, he resumed his walk down the hall as he wondered what could have caused Sarek’s wife to be so amused.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     “Captain’s Log, Supplemental.  After meeting with the USS Suhl diplomats, the Medari have agreed, in principle, to a peace agreement.  The diplomats are hopeful that the accord will have lasting implications for the Medari for many years to come.”

 

     Cutting off the recording, Kirk turned toward his communications officer and gave her his best rakish grin.  Uhura only shook her head and pointed back to the arm of the chair.

 

     “Uhura,” Kirk chided as he continued to attempt to charm her with his smile, “I swear that I didn’t know it had been repaired.”

 

     “With all due respect, Captain, you’re not the one receiving frantic messages from Starfleet Records asking about the log report.  You’re nearly two weeks behind.”  She graced him with her best Doctor McCoy cantankerous look, and he shrugged.

 

     “I still have a few months to complete this, right?  Right?  I’ll be down in Sickbay.  Bones wants to see me.  Mr. Sulu, you have the Bridge.”  He flew past the disapproving Lieutenant as he entered the relative sanctuary of the turbo lift.

 

     Sickbay appeared to be deserted, and the Captain began to wonder if he had misunderstood the message when the Doctor’s office door opened.  Motioning for him to enter, the Captain wondered what all the mystery was about.

 

     “Take a seat, Jim.  Seen Spock yet?”  The Doctor’s voice had taken a sober tone that caused the Captain to scrutinize his friend a little closer.

 

     “Bones, what’s wrong?  You look and sound like a man on a mission…or with a problem.”  McCoy harrumphed and straightened out his shirt.  He had made it a point to change into a fresh uniform as soon as they had beamed back from the surface of Medaris.  Personally, he’d hoped to put the memory of the planet completely out of his mind.

 

     “No mission.  Hell, that’s the last thing on my mind.  Oh, there you are!  It’s about time.”  McCoy grabbed a chair and moved it so that the Vulcan could sit next to the Captain.  A slightly raised eyebrow was fixed on the First Officer’s face as he took the offered seat.

 

     A brief silence enveloped the room as the Doctor, still standing, nervously ran a hand through his hair.  Clearing his throat, McCoy’s light blue eyes were unusually solemn and bright.

 

     “Gentlemen, in exactly 50 days, this mission ends.  Before anything else interferes, I wanted to take a moment to remember those who lost their lives in the five years we’ve been out here.  I know there will be memorials and such when we get back to Earth, but I thought we might have our own private wake.  Plus, there’s a very good chance that we might not be able to get together before all this ends, and…well…I think it would be a shame if we didn’t at least take a moment to say goodbye.”  Opening up a cavernous drawer in the desk, the Doctor removed three amber shot glasses and began to unwrap a rectangular package that revealed a dark navy colored box.  Already nodding his approval, Kirk sat back as the glasses were handed out.

 

     “This, gentlemen,” McCoy intoned, “is one of only a handful of rare bottles of Orion sweet ale that has made it past their borders and into Federation space.  I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.  And, I figured if anyone would appreciate it, it would be you, Spock.  Let’s just say that it’s supposedly a close relative of Romulan ale.”

 

     Eyebrow still raised, Spock observed the Doctor open the box and remove a clear bottle with a bright blue liquid.  With the flare of a bartender, McCoy quickly poured the drinks and passed them out.  A moment’s silence passed as each man reflected on the somber reality that so much had happened in such a relatively short time.  So much learned, and so much lost.

 

     Raising his glass, the Captain began.  “Here’s to all those lost on this mission.  I would especially like to mention my friend, Gary Mitchell, as a man who would’ve appreciated a glass of this ale.”

 

     United in memory, the three took a sip of the liquid.  Spock watched with veiled amusement as the eyes of the two humans bugged out slightly and began to water.  Exhaling sharply, the Doctor quickly put down the drink.

 

     “Now that’s what I call a kick in the pants,” McCoy wheezed, even as the Captain cautiously took another sip.

 

     “Bones, I think it grows on you.  Take another sip.” Kirk turned his eyes toward the Doctor, who was frantically looking for another glass, apparently for some water.

 

     “Are you kidding me, Jim?  Nothing grows on it!  It kills everything in its path going down!”

 

     “Spock, what do you think?”  Hazel eyes, humored by the Doctor’s dilemma, found the brown eyes of his friend.  Spock had taken another sip of the blue ale and nodded reflectively.

 

     “It is an interesting sensation.”  Spock eyed the Doctor as he sputtered and glared at the Vulcan.

 

     “Interesting, hell!  I think it burned a hole in my esophagus.  Look, you two can have this stuff.  I’m changing over to my old standby.”  A bottle of Saurian brandy was quickly uncapped and a small quantity poured into another handy glass.  McCoy smiled as he took a swig from his glass.

 

     “There, now.  Much better.  You can never learn to appreciate what you have unless you try something new…and hate it.”

 

     The three officers sat in a comfortable silence as the liquid in the glasses slowly disappeared.  Kirk shook his head slightly at the Doctor.

 

     “Bones, this was an excellent idea.  I can’t help but wonder what our lives would have been like if we had never met.  Pretty boring, I imagine.”  Kirk took another sip as McCoy grinned and turned his attention to Spock.

 

     “Yeah.  But on the other hand, some of us should count our lucky stars that we’re here at all, right, Spock?  I mean that I still can’t believe you asked those Restorers why they saved you and your mother.  Of all the dumb things to ask…” Kirk nearly smiled as he felt the beginnings of a ‘discussion’ brewing.  Spock half turned toward the Doctor, a somewhat exasperated look on his face.

 

     “Doctor, as I said earlier, the question was legitimate,” Spock said, tilting his nearly full glass. “If the Restorers were concerned about the political process, it would be logical to save the diplomats.  I cannot understand their decision or motive.”

 

     “Maybe they had second thoughts about killing a young mother and a baby.  Hell, that’s why I don’t trust them even now.”  McCoy tilted his empty glass at the First Officer.  “It was just heartless for them to go after the two of you.  It shows a complete lack of compassion.”

 

     “They did not ‘go after’ us personally.  The Restorers only selected us due to my Father’s Ambassadorial position.  It was not logical to save us over the diplomats.  I would believe that should be clear even to you, Doctor.”

 

    “Fine.”  McCoy poured more brandy into his snifter glass.  “Just remember one thing, then.  If I ever have to save your sorry butt again, I want you to give me a completely logical explanation as to why.  I want details…diagrams…a ten-page dissertation…a debate.  I want to discuss it with you, in full, beforehand.”

 

     Spock’s raised left eyebrow disappeared briefly into his bangs.  “Doctor McCoy, it will be with an ardent proclivity on my part that I shall do whatever is necessary to avoid the need of your medical skills in the future.”

 

     “That’s fine by me.”  McCoy sat back, looking somewhat smug.  The Captain’s smile faded as he realized, not for the first time, that time was slipping away.  Soon, they would be scattered throughout the galaxy with only their memories of the past five years to bind them.

 

     “Hey, Spock,” McCoy began again, the brandy apparently beginning to loosen him up as his Southern drawl became more evident, “I know you’re into secrets and all, but I think I’ve figured out why you’re going back to Vulcan.  Ya see, I did some research on some of those Vulcan ceremonies after you nearly got Jim killed at your wedding.  Anyway, I think you’re going back to marry one of those Vulcan Vestal virgins I read about.”

 

     Both Spock and Kirk blinked several times in quick succession.  The Captain’s expression was one of complete shock.

 

     “What did you say, Bones?  Vulcan Vestal virgins?  How the hell did you come up with that one?”

 

     “Well, you see, there was this archival book with pictures of some of the Vulcan native ceremonial grounds.  Not much, mind you, since Vulcan’s aren’t into sharing too much.  There were these pictures of some of the…uh…help me out, Spock.  Acolytes?  What are they?”

 

     “Adepts, Doctor.  You may have seen pictures of the Adepts.”  Once again, a strange feeling passed through Kirk as he listened to the tone of his Vulcan friend.  He sensed that the Doctor was treading on yet another unmentionable topic.

 

     “Yeah, that’s what they were!  Adepts!  They live on Mt. Shasta…no, I mean Mt. Seleya, but that’s not what impressed me.  What I noticed was…” The Doctor stopped as he, too, realized that Spock was less than enthusiastic about the turn in the conversation.  An uncharacteristic flush colored the Doctor’s cheeks as he fumbled for his words.  “Um, I mean, that I noticed that they were…well, rather scantily dressed and um…”

 

     “I would suggest, Doctor, that you keep your mind from wandering to such depths of depravity.  The Adepts of Gol are highly regarded and esteemed.  Your adolescent musings, while typical for you, are not appreciated in this circumstance.”

 

     An uncomfortable pause embraced the men as Kirk glared at the Doctor in hopes that he would let the subject matter drop.

 

     “All I meant, Spock,” the Doctor continued, oblivious to the Captain’s silent plea, “was that you’re probably going back to Vulcan to get married.  You know…the whole family thing, which seems pretty important to Vulcans.  I know that you’re from one of those old respected Houses, so I just figured you’d settle down, have a few kids, let the grandparents spoil them rotten…that kind of thing.”

 

     “That kind of thing, Doctor, was effectively eliminated by T’Pring.  I prefer not to discuss such personal matters.”  The stillness of Spock’s demeanor once again sounded

warning bells to the Captain.  Apparently, the Doctor was wearing earplugs.

 

     “There are plenty of Vulcan women who would probably throw themselves at you if you gave them a chance.  Maybe if you tried a little bit, you might…”

 

     “Doctor McCoy, I can assure you that my plans on Vulcan do not include marriage.  I have…” Spock paused, then continued in a lower timbre that was nearly inaudible.  “I have made plans that should assist me in regaining some control.”

 

     “Control over what?  I don’t know why you want to change so much.  I mean,” McCoy fumbled for the right words, “what the hell is that saying?  Be true to yourself?”

 

    “To thine own self be true.  It is a quotation from the Shakespearian play Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 3,” Spock observed the Doctor’s face light up.

 

    “Yeah!  I figured you’d know that.”  McCoy’s voice then lowered to match that of the Vulcan. “That’s why I don’t understand why you can’t just be yourself.  What are you planning to do on Vulcan?”

 

     “It does not concern you…”

 

     “DAMN IT!”  McCoy hollered, shaking Kirk with the startling volume.  “I’m asking you as a friend!  Don’t you get it?  I’m worried about your sudden interest in all things Vulcan.  It’s as if you’re saying that we’re not good enough for you.  Is that it?  Are you tired of dealing with a bunch of illogical humans?”

 

     A look passed between the Medical Officer and the First Officer.  Whether or not Spock agreed with the Doctor’s assessment of his state of mind was ended when the Vulcan stood.

 

     “Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure to serve with you.  Good evening.”

 

     “Spock, wait…” McCoy spoke as the Vulcan moved toward the door.  Only the slightest hesitation made the Doctor continue.  “No matter what, I hope that you do realize that it’s really been a pleasure.”

 

     Glancing over his shoulder, Spock appeared almost sullen in his response.  “The very fact that I chose that particular word only solidifies my resolve.  Good evening.”  The door whooshed closed with no further comment.

 

     The jovial mood completely quashed, Kirk and McCoy stared at their half filled glasses for a moment.  Finally, the Captain stood.  “Well, that wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, I’m sure.  Still, Bones, the intention was good.  I think I’ll check with things on the bridge, then hit the sack.  Good night.”

 

     With both officers gone, the Doctor considered throwing his glass at the closed door.  Realizing that he would have to clean up the mess, he decided instead to pour another round for himself.  Raising it toward the door, he spoke.

 

     “Here’s to us.  To Jim, who will be lost as last year’s Easter egg without this ship.  To Spock, who will be lost to Vulcan, if he has his way.”  Taking a loud sip, he sighed.  “And here’s to me.  Lord, please don’t let their insanity rub off on me.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Entering the hospital in the early morning hours the following day, Sarek stopped at the nurse’s station to request an update on his wife’s condition.  After receiving the rather exhaustive synopsis of what had occurred from the time he had left the previous evening to that moment, he was momentarily concerned.  According to the nurse on duty, Amanda had been both restless and uncooperative.  Allowing for his wife’s reluctant acceptance of the need for further observation, he wondered exactly what her misconduct entailed.

 

     Entering the room, Sarek was not surprised that Amanda was awake.  She was generally an early riser unless she had afternoon classes to teach.  In order to avoid the oppressive heat of Vulcan, she had adapted to doing most of her work in the pre-dawn hours or late at night.  Now, she was studiously examining a monitor screen with a most displeased look on her face.  She began to speak almost as soon as the door opened.

 

     “I’m ready to go home now.  I’ve been ‘observed’ and I’m fine.  There’s nothing to pack, so let’s go.”

 

     “Amanda,” Sarek said, keeping his tone light, “Have you caused some difficulty for the hospital staff?  Your nurse has reported you as being both restless and uncooperative.”

 

     Scribbling something furiously onto the padd with a stylus that was located near the monitor, Amanda looked up, startled at what her husband had just said.  “What?  No, I’ve been the model patient. You know how I sleep.  It was nearly impossible for me to rest when I was being awakened with questions about why I was so fidgety!  Two interrupted nights in a row are two too many.  I’m ready to go home.”

 

     In a flash of insight, Sarek knew what had happened.  It had been his response the first time he had tried to sleep in the same bed with her.  Tried had been the operative word.  She had tossed and turned the entire night and he had been unable to comprehend why she didn’t truly ‘sleep’.  It was a misunderstanding that very nearly resulted in twin beds.  Finally, they came to the conclusion that while Vulcans rarely stirred once asleep, Humans didn’t share that trait; or, at least, Amanda didn’t.  There were so many things that each of them now took for granted.  If she was being monitored by a Vulcan nurse…

 

     “I should have warned the staff about your rather active sleep patterns.  Did you not tell them?”  Sarek noticed her restrained grimace as she cleared her throat.

 

     “Of course I did.  That’s probably why they consider me uncooperative.  The nurse recommended a sleep aid.  I was rather thorough in my explanation of what I was going to do with that aid if he tried to give it to me.  And, yes, I know that wasn’t a very logical reaction, but I was tired.”

 

     Taking one of the chairs that had been left in the room from the previous day, Sarek moved it closer to the bed.  He briefly pointed at the monitor as he deliberately changed the subject.

 

     “Are you working on something for your classes?” he asked, as he maintained his light tone.  Noticing how studiously he was ignoring the entire sleep fiasco, she shook her head and sighed.

 

     “No, I haven’t figured out yet how I’m going to get my students back on schedule.  T’Parn was very kind to substitute for me, but it’s never quite the same as having the regular instructor teach.  I’m actually working on a few correspondences that I’ve been putting off forever.  One is for Li’s family and the other is for Ursula’s father.”  Pausing, she straightened the monitor on her lap.  “I believe that I was in such a terrible state of shock at the time of the Medaris bombing that I wasn’t able to tell the families at the funerals how much they both meant to me.  Oddly enough, the letter to Ursula’s father was easier for me to write than the one for Li’s family.  I didn’t reveal anything about the Restorers since I assume it’s still classified.  I just don’t know…how do you tell someone that you were standing right there when their loved one was killed?”

 

     Her voice had drifted off until it barely registered above a whisper.  She was staring blankly at the monitor as she continued.

 

     “This has really started to bother me.  How could I be grateful for our lives?  That’s what I told Spock.  In order for us to live, two innocent people had to die.” She held up a hand as she saw her husband preparing to interrupt. “Oh, I understand that the Restorers could only save two people, but I think that I shouldn’t feel so relieved.  It’s such an oppressively guilty feeling to know that I’m glad that we’re alive at the expense of my friends.”

 

     “I do not believe that you are pleased by their deaths.  You cannot be guilty of a crime that you did not commit.  The deaths of Li and Ursula were the direct result of the Restorers actions.”  Sarek waited for an affirmative reply.  After a few moments, he leaned forward; but once again, Amanda held up her hand.

 

     “Sarek, this is just too tender a subject, even after forty years.  I hope that I can feel better about it once I send the messages to the families.”  She pushed the monitor away and adjusted the pillows behind her back.  Watching her, Sarek noted only the slightest twinge of pain crossed her face when she twisted to smooth the blanket.  Before he could ask about her physical state, she locked eyes with him and spoke.

 

     “I have some questions for you about Medaris.  Now that the big mystery is over, could you take just a few minutes to fill me in?”

 

     “What would you like to know?” he asked, relieved that there would no longer be any secrets.

 

     With the pillows fluffed, she leaned back against them and closed her eyes.  “Well, I guess some of the obvious things.  I understand now that Jared didn’t coerce you into beaming down the way I thought he had.  But once we beamed back up, what were you working on in our cabin that was so important?  It couldn’t have been the trial as you said.”

 

     “Actually, it was.  The Medari wanted to prosecute the bombers for their actions.  Knowing as I did the involvement of the Governor, I attempted to gather evidence that the Restorers were endangered if they did not allow the presentation of their gift.  I worked on a defense for 2.64 days until I discovered that a ‘kangaroo court’ had already passed sentence on I’Ry’Si and three other Government officials.  They were executed, essentially for convenience sake.  An arrangement had been made between the other Restorers and the Governor to forgo any further punishment.  It was a most unsatisfactory outcome.”

 

     She nodded her understanding.  “So, the Restorers and the Government officials each got what they wanted.  The Restorers only lost one of their numbers, and the officials had an execution.  Something else has bothered me.  Please tell me that the Medaris mission is the only one in which something like this has happened.  I hope that we’re not considered dead on some other planet, are we?”

 

     “Of course not.  The bizarre nature of the events of Medaris has not been duplicated on any other mission.”  Sarek saw her eyes narrow.

 

     “But if the events occurred as they did, you couldn’t tell me about it due to a possible threat on our lives.  I’m going to have to believe strictly on faith that nothing this crazy has happened since.”  Amanda frowned as a sigh escaped her lips.  “Of all the things to have happen…dead.  Why couldn’t we be deified or given some great honor?  I wouldn’t mind something like that.”

 

     The corner of Sarek’s mouth moved up as he silently measured his reaction.  “Deification?  That is what you would accept?”

 

     “Well, it’s a lot better than dead!  I’m not asking for anything major.  A trifling goddess position would be just fine with me.  I’m not that conceited.”  The monitor chimed abruptly, and Amanda touched several buttons as Sarek’s curiosity was piqued by her sudden somber look.

 

     “Amanda, I trust that you did not attempt to contact Spock?”  He watched her reaction with a growing sense that she had done exactly that.

 

     “Well, I didn’t get a chance to talk with him, and two months is a long time.  It may not be Spock, anyway.  I placed two requests for channels.”  She didn’t offer a further explanation as the monitor screen cleared.  At that moment, the door opened and the nurse Sarek had spoken with earlier entered the room.

 

     “Ambassador,” the nurse quietly said, “there is a communiqué from the Embassy at the nurse’s station for you.”

 

     Standing, Sarek glanced at his wife, but she gave the impression that she was waiting for him to leave.  Without another word, he exited the room.

 

     Once he was gone, Amanda turned her attention to the calm face of her son.  “Spock, how are you?  What happened on Medaris?”

 

     The staid features didn’t change as Spock considered his Mother’s words.  “Did Father not inform you of our conversation yesterday?”

 

     An unanticipated tension filled Amanda as she listened to Spock’s tone.  His occasionally impatient nuance when speaking with her was something that had always set her on edge, and now she was too fatigued to resist a frustrated retort.

 

     “Yes, your Father told me what you said.  I only wanted…”

 

     “Then why are you contacting me?  I do not have time for such interruptions as I am on duty.”

 

     Mouth slightly agape, Amanda stared at the screen.  Had he just cut her off?  Now furious, she decided that some formalities needed to be reintroduced.

 

     “My only child, thee will address thy Mother in the proper manner!” she snapped, and noted the slightly raised eyebrow with a sense of achievement.  “I don’t have time for such insolence and I will not tolerate it from you.  I have no desire to interrupt your work, but I’m concerned about your contact with the Medari.”

 

    “Mother, there is nothing to concern yourself with.  The situation on Medaris has been resolved.  Are you to be discharged today?”  Spock’s ability to change the subject rivaled his Father’s, Amanda thought ruefully.  She scowled and decided to fight fire with fire.

 

     “If you don’t wish to speak about Medaris, that’s fine.  Tell me about your plans once you return to Vulcan.  Your Father and I would like you to stay with us.”  Once again, she saw the flash of irritation on her son’s face.

 

     “Those plans have not been finalized yet.  They do not involve you or Father.”  His cool timbre seemed to pierce her as she listened.  No wonder Sarek didn’t want to go into details about their earlier conversation.

 

     “So, you’re not even going to offer the slightest explanation for your arrival?  Why?”

 

     “That is the elemental question, is it not?”  Spock’s enigmatic response made no sense to her.  What was he talking about?

 

     “Spock, what do you mean?  The question about your arrival or the question ‘why’?”

 

     Spock had looked down as she quizzed him.  Now, he looked back up at the screen with a mask of aloofness firmly in place.

 

     “ ‘Why’ is the question.  I have been unable to rationalize my behaviors in the past several months with that of a Vulcan.  My conviction is that I have been in the company of Humans for too long.  I have become a caricature of that which should reflect my heritage.  Instead of honoring tradition, I have allowed myself to be pulled and manipulated in such a way that I disgrace Vulcan with my actions.”  His timbre never wavered as he spoke.  Amanda realized she had been holding her breath.  Slowing exhaling, she countered.

 

     “Spock, you have brought nothing but honor to Vulcan.  Your status here has never been more elevated, and your return is greatly anticipated not just by your family, but also by those in the scientific community.  Deep space exploration has been your life for the past five years.  It’s time for you to return to Vulcan, but don’t do anything rash.  Take some time to rest and gather your thoughts before you rush into something that you might regret.”  She had somehow maintained her firm tone even as she saw an apathetic look cross her son’s face.  What exactly did that look mean?  When had he decided that she was irrelevant?

 

     “I cannot continue to explain my actions to you, just as I cannot present myself as a

representative for Vulcan.”  He locked eyes with her as he continued.  “It is a disgrace to all that is Vulcan that such a situation has occurred.  I can only strive to exorcize that which has caused the problem in the first place.”

 

     “What are you planning?  You cannot change yourself to fit some perfect mold of what a Vulcan should be.  Why can’t you accept yourself as you are?”  She knew that her pleading would likely not have the outcome she wanted.  It was the constant doubt in her son that she couldn’t comprehend.  What could be said that would break through to him?

 

     “That which I have become is unacceptable.  The Medari referred to me as ‘the infant’ and the ‘immature’ one.  They are correct.  I have not reached my full potential, and it is due to the weakening of my Vulcan nature and discipline.  Mother, I must go.  I have been derelict in my duties long enough.  Peace and long life to you.”  There was no warmth in the words.  They were said merely as a rote closing to conversation.  Swallowing back a desire to continue the discussion, Amanda nodded.

 

     “Very well.  Live long and prosper, my son.  We await your arrival with great anticipation.” Without another word, the communication link suddenly blinked and ended.

 

     The blank screen of the monitor seemed to mock her as she stared into it and saw the blurry reflection of her face looking back.  The more she considered Spock’s words, the more she worried.  It was ironic that only a few days earlier, she had been relieved that the mission was coming to a close.  Now, she dreaded it.  The end of the Enterprise’s mission had implications for more adversity and possible heartbreak: far more than any silly nightmare, she thought contritely as the door opened.  Upon seeing her husband’s face, Amanda just shook her head.

 

     “You would think that I would learn after awhile to stop trying.  So, what emergency has the Embassy thrown at you this time?”  Her light tone was an obvious cover, and Sarek easily saw through it.

 

     “You spoke with our son.”  It was not a question.  Amanda struggled to keep her composure as Sarek took his seat.

 

     “I don’t know if ‘spoke’ is the right word.  He’s made up his mind about his activities once he returns home and he won’t share them.  That’s pretty much what you told me, but I guess I had to hear it for myself.  I wish I had just taken your word for it.”

 

     “You would not have been satisfied by that.  It is regrettable that Spock has chosen such a reticent attitude; however, his privacy should be respected.  We shall have to wait.”  Sarek observed his wife slump into the pillows a little more.

 

     “I know that it’s my lack of patience that’s to blame.  So, what fire does the Embassy expect you to put out this time?  I’m assuming they weren’t calling to inquire about my health.”

 

     Pursing his lips together, Sarek shook his head.  “The treaty between the Angees Minor planets has begun to unravel due to some possible manipulation by the Klingons.  They were highly displeased when the planets became Federation members.  Now, there are reports of raids and possible unrest in the capital city of Anglania.  I am to speak with their ruling council at 0900 hours today.”

 

     “That doesn’t give you much time to prepare.  I’m fine, and with the approval of the Healers, I should be out of here by lunchtime.  Go on…” She made a slight shooing motion, but Sarek remained seated.

 

     “No, I am well versed with the situation and with the Klingon tactics that have been employed.  There is no need for further review.  I shall remain on Vulcan until I am satisfied that you are fully recovered,” Sarek intoned, his manner not inviting any arguments.  He watched with veiled amusement as Amanda opened her mouth to speak, but then reconsidered.  Folding her arms across her chest, she shrugged.

 

     “I guess arguing would be pointless, although I would win.”  Grinning, she waited for her husband’s retort, but was interrupted by the monitor chime once again.  Checking it, she glanced over at Sarek, and then opened the channel.

 

     “Hello, this is Jared Oaks.  How may…” The man’s voice trailed off as his dark eyes took in the sight of the last person he ever expected would contact him.

 

     Amanda rather loudly cleared her throat as she gazed at the startled man.  With a certain false bravado, she narrowed her eyes and spoke sharply.  “So, Mr. Jared Oaks, tell me something.  Is it true that you beamed down to Medaris with my husband after a bomb went off in the Assembly Hall?”  She observed the confused look pass over Jared’s face as he nodded.

 

     “Yes.”  He appeared ready to say more, but Amanda glared at the screen.

 

     “Yes?  I see.  So, Mr. Oaks, you beamed down…” Jared noticed then that her tone had softened considerably.  “You beamed down to save four people you had never met.  You only knew that they were in trouble and that two of them were the Ambassador’s wife and child.  I deeply regret that the Medari threats kept me from knowing the truth.  I hope you can forgive me, just as I hope that we will stop meeting like this.”  She waved her hand to indicate her surroundings, and Jared laughed.

 

     “I hope so, too!  Oh, there’s nothing to forgive.  I’ve thought about what happened over these many years, and if I thought someone had acted in a callous manner with my wife’s life, I’d be livid, too.  Look…let’s try to start over.”  His smile broadened.  “Have you ever heard of a ‘do over’?  When I was a kid, if something didn’t go the way I wanted it to, I’d yell ‘Do over!’ and pretend the previous events didn’t happen.  What do you think?”

 

     Amanda was beaming as she looked at Sarek, his brow furrowed at the strange turn in the conversation.  “Yes!  I remember those!  That’s exactly what we need…a ‘do over’.  If you don’t mind, let me start.”

 

     “Certainly.”  Jared cleared the smile from his face and replaced it with a neutral grin.

 

     “So…Mr. Jared Oaks.  My husband speaks quite highly of you.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  Her sweetest smile graced her face as Jared bowed his head slightly.  A genuine feeling of liberation from the secrets of Medaris filled him as he responded.

 

     “Lady Amanda, trust me.  After all this time, the pleasure is mine.”

 

 

 

Epilogue~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     The brilliant light of the Medari morning embraced the Governor’s terrace as I’Ry’Da looked down upon her beloved multi-colored gardens.  High above the rustling masses of flora, she could reflect on the events of the past few days and wonder at the implications of the portentous Federation presence.  Her sister, I’Ry’No, had continued to voice her objections, but had only limited effect on the diplomatic talks.  Mention of another bombing surfaced between the Restorers, but was quickly dismissed as too primitive and ineffective.  The Restorers would accept the conditions of the peace agreement for the moment, since it was expedient to do so.

 

     I’Ry’Da swayed in unison with the gentle breeze coursing through the air.  It had been good to be restored those many years ago to the state that allowed her to remain with her family.  With that in mind, she briefly considered the past and the Assembly Hall bombing.  It had been well planned, but was flawed in a fundamental way.  She hadn’t expected the emotion…

 

     When the four Federation members died, she could sense all those around the bodies even as she lay on the floor with them.  The panic, fear, and horror of the bloodshed shocked those who observed the bombing.  Only through quick actions had the Federation medical teams been kept from knowing of those whose life forces had been removed.  Once transported to the Restorers arena, she had allowed the process of regeneration to overtake her.  At its completion, she stood and thankfully rejoined her sisters.  The Governor and I’Ry’No had already arranged for the gift to be granted to the two diplomats, and she approved.  It was the most logical solution to the impasse involving the four deaths.  It was most logical to save those who could most assist Medaris.

 

     Then, it struck her.  Stunned by the passion, I’Ry’Da searched for the source of the singular emotions that pummeled her consciousness.  The identities of the emotions themselves were clear-cut for any to sense.  At first anger…then guilt…then grief…an incredible grief that caused her to tremble in its intensity.  The human with the Ambassador was profoundly distressed by the deaths, but the emotions didn’t come from him.

 

     They came from the Ambassador.

 

     I’Ry’Da was torn with indecision.  The last thing she expected was for the Ambassador to be so emotionally affected.  Their immature Vulcan race had not impressed the Medari due to their denial and suppression of emotions.  The Medari not only embraced emotions, but also depended on them for much of their awareness. 

 

     The continuous waves of grief encircled her.  A quick brush of his thoughts also astonished her as she sensed his regret over his actions and his desire to do what might have been pleasing to his wife.  If it were possible for this one to acknowledge his failings, perhaps their race wasn’t so inflexible and cold.  Perhaps he should have a second chance.

 

     With an apologetic thought to the two diplomats, I’Ry’Da informed I’Ry’No and I’Ry’Si of her decision.  Shocked, they at first refused to move, but I’Ry’Da reminded them of her position as eldest and ruler.  Reluctantly, they did as she told them even as she turned her focus back to the Ambassador.  What would be his reaction?  Had she been correct in her change of heart?

 

     As the Ambassador realized the significance of the shift of the Restorers away from the diplomats and to the young woman and infant, I’Ry’Da delighted at the lifting of his grief.  It was rather potent to feel the change and to know that the decision had been correct. 

 

     Perhaps the Vulcan ones did have potential for growth.  Maybe, with the maturity of the Humans to guide them, they might develop into a well-rounded species.  Whether the lessons learned about family, loss and reunion would be carried with the Ambassador was questionable.  That was the problem with dealing with the immature ones.  It was most fortunate that the Humans had taken an interest in helping them.

 

     Back in the present, I’Ry’Da once again considered the question: had she been correct in attempting to grant the gift to the woman and infant?  The Ambassador had not changed as much as she had expected.  He still offered only a glimpse of his true self to those around him, and even that was guarded and rare.  It was telling that the Human woman was still married to him.  Did she still see the potential?  If so, then the decision was correct to save them.   

 

     As to the infant… It was a difficult thing to see that he hadn’t yet discovered the joys of expressing emotions.  True, she and I’Ry’No had been hard on him; but it was only for his enlightenment.  They had hoped that he would see the truth and embrace the whirling emotions they sensed in him.  Instead, he seemed more determined than ever to deny his true nature and fight against it.  A shame, really…

 

     Perhaps someday, even the infant would grow up.

 

FIN