Xenophobia

By Elise

“What makes you smile so?” Silek asked his elder brother. For nearly ten minutes, Sarek had sat quietly beside him with that faint smile. Silek knew the reason for it, but he couldn’t resist teasing his elder brother. “What could possibly be causing you to lose your control so early in the day?”

Sarek quickly composed his features. He did not enjoy being caught with less than perfect control, but he could trust his brother. Silek had seen him under worse conditions. Last night was a prime example. “I do not understand,” he replied bluntly, with a trace of a teasing tone in his voice.

“Surely, I am mistaken,” Silek offered with a near smile of his own, “but I had the distinct impression that you were smiling.” He shifted in his seat beside his brother in the back of the embassy limousine in order better to view Sarek’s face. “I believe the proper Earth term is ‘smiling like a cat that ate the canary.’”

Only Silek would dare push the boundaries of his brother’s privacy and get away with it. He knew there was nothing Sarek could do about it. Oh, my brother, you ‘owe me big time’ as they say on this planet. Silek knew full well why his brother smiled.

It was Silek who had finally managed to locate the “missing” ambassador last night. No, it was this morning, just after 3:00 A.M. local time that Sarek’s aide, Selek, had roused the ambassador’s brother from a sound sleep. T’Pau, purposely ignoring the differences in time, had called and had asked specifically for Ambassador Sarek. No matter how he tried, the young aide could not find the celebrated emissary. As a last resort, he had awakened Silek, hoping that one brother could locate the other while he attempted to placate a very demanding T’Pau.

Knowing his brother and Amanda and their mutual “feelings” as he did, Silek placed a single call directly to Dr. Grayson’s apartment. Just as he had predicted, Sarek answered his call. In fact, Silek knew that Sarek often spent most of his nights at Amanda’s apartment and had been doing so since early spring.

Silek also knew that his brother’s next Time would not take place for another two point zero five Standard years, but he had no doubt as to what went on at Amanda’s apartment those nights. He had surprised them once or twice.

On several occasions before this morning, Silek had dared broach the subject with his oh-so proper brother.

“What will happen, Sarek, if it becomes known that you spend your nights with Miss Grayson?”

Each time, Sarek would only glare at his younger brother. “How is anyone to learn such a fact, little brother,” he always retorted, “and is it anyone’s business but my own?”

How ironic, mused Silek at the time, that my brother, Vulcan’s choice as her representative to Earth, behaves so un-Vulcan-like in his private life.

That morning, Silek passed along the message from Selek and urged his brother to return to the embassy as quickly as possible. Then, he relieved Selek of his unpleasant conversation with T’Pau, explaining only that Sarek was enroute. Within fifteen Standard minutes, Sarek took his proper place before the comm unit.

At the termination of the communication with T’Pau, Silek had been prompt in pointing out to Sarek the illogic and foolhardiness of his continued actions.

This time, though, Sarek paused to consider his brother’s words. He spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “You are, of course, correct.” Pausing, then, to catch his brother’s eyes, Sarek’s next words surprised him. “I have asked Amanda to be my wife.”

At his brother’s blatant reminder, Sarek’s ears promptly turned a lime green, and it took the eminent ambassador nearly two minutes to reassert his bio-controls, returning them to their normal shade. “Do not tease me, Brother,” Sarek whispered. “Not when I am about to face Mr. Grayson in order to seek his permission to marry his daughter.”

Silek, instantly sobered by his brother’s reminder of their upcoming task, nodded, and the two brothers sat a while in thoughtful silence.

After a few moments, Silek spoke more soberly. “Still, Brother, I do not understand why you seek to speak with Mr. Grayson.” Silek frowned, then added, “Surely, if you felt you needed permission you should have father speak for you.”

“It is our tradition for the fathers of the two intended to speak and arrange things,” Sarek agreed. “However, it is the tradition of Earth that the male himself speak to the female’s father, asking for her hand in marriage.”

Silek tilted his head. “I would image the male would need more than a mere hand.”

Sarek gave his younger brother an acid look. “Perhaps I should send you back to Vulcan,” he mused. “You seem to be developing too much of a sense of humor.”

“Forgive me,” Silek replied. But the recitative response was far from sincere.

Sarek inhaled and changed the subject. “During the wedding, the groom, that is, the male, is allowed to have a ‘best man’ stand beside him during the ceremony. A ‘best man’, I am told, is someone whom the male considers to be his best friend,” Sarek explained. “I wish you to stand beside me in this capacity.”

For a moment, Silek was speechless. “I would be most honored, my brother.”

Sarek only nodded in response. There was no time for more conversation as the limousine was slowing and pulling over in front of the First Global Bank of Earth.

The two Vulcans entered the institution and proceeded towards the information desk. The young man behind the desk seemed surprised and nervous upon seeing them.

“I am Sarek of Vulcan,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I believe Mr. Robert Grayson is expecting me.”

Tugging at his collar, the young man attempted a smile. “If you gentlemen will please be seated, I’ll inform Mr. Grayson that you have arrived.” He gestured towards a small sitting area where several overly upholstered chairs sat around a low table covered with various financial reading materials.

Sarek nodded and proceeded, followed by Silek, to one of chairs.

“The wait should not be too long,” Sarek informed his brother. “Before we left the embassy, Selek called to inform Mr. Grayson of our arrival.”

Before those very words had been completed, a large door across the lobby opened, and a tall, dignified man stepped out. The man, somewhere in his latter fifties, wore a custom tailored black suit. His impeccable dress and short-cropped blond hair gave him an air of quiet sophistication. This could be no other than Robert Grayson himself.

Amanda had spoken of her father before. He looks exactly as she described him, Silek thought. I wonder if he is as rigid and demanding as she suggested.

“Ah,” he spoke loudly as the walked briskly towards the Vulcans. “You must be the ambassador.” He smiled broadly.

Sarek and Silek stood and, moving at a more sedate pace, met the man in the middle of the lobby.

“I am Sarek. This is my brother Silek.” Sarek’s voice deepened as it did anytime he spoke in public.

“Robert Grayson,” the human introduced himself. He held out a hand in greeting, then catching himself, withdrew, his lips tightening and his face shading a slight pink. Clearly he was uneasy. “Forgive me,” he stated bluntly. “I’m not used to dealing with Vulcans.”

“There is no offense,” Sarek told him.

“Good, good,” Grayson returned heartily. “You know, my daughter works at the embassy with you people, and she is always saying how fond she is of your culture. Now, if you gentlemen will just step into my office, we can carry on there.” Turning, Robert Grayson led the way.

Amanda inherited her coloring and her blue eyes from her father, Silek noted as he followed the two men. Yet her eyes seem the color of Earth’s summer sky while the father’s seem colder somehow.

The office was flawlessly decorated and well appointed. Mahogany wood, which was used exclusively throughout for furniture and paneling, spoke of old money and old values. Old-fashioned library-style seating was of well-padded black leather, studded with brass tacks. The room was the perfect, masculine setting for Robert Grayson and could not have better reflected the character of the man.

When all three were comfortably seated, Mr. Grayson pulled several data solids from this desk and popped one into the computer. “Now, Your Excellency, what type of account do you wish to open with us?”

Silek frowned and shook his head slightly. Mr. Grayson cannot think we have driven all this way simply to open an account at his bank. Surely Amanda has spoken to him about Sarek just as she has often spoken of her father to me.

“Sarek, please,” Sarek requested. “There is no need for formality within the family.”

Robert Grayson’s brow furrowed with confusion for a moment. Again, he blushed with the mistake. Then his eyes turned to Silek’s faint frown. “Ah, yes, the family,” he replied with a nod. “Again, forgive me. I’ve never worked with Vulcans before except by teleconference, but Amanda keeps assuring me that deep down you Vulcans are just like us.” He pressed several keys in sequence on the computer. “I’ll just change the heading on this to note your preference of name.”

This is becoming uncomfortable, Silek thought. Amanda has always spoken of how close knit her family is. Why is it that her father is unaware of her “feelings” for my brother? Silek nodded encouragement as his brother continued.

“I am not here to open an account,” Sarek stated. “I am here about family.”

Puzzlement again shown plainly on Robert Grayson’s countenance. Then, as understanding dawned, he shook his head good-naturedly. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a little dense.” He punched yet another string of code into the computer. “Now, you said your name is Silek? That’s another of those odd “S” names, isn’t it?” he turned to ask Silek. “Can you spell that? In Standard?” Grayson shrugged, shook his head slightly, and smiled to himself. “Mandy tells me that you people usually give your boys a name beginning with “S” in honor of some somebody or other.”

Silek was taken aback. Mr. Grayson is clearly unaware of Sarek’s reason for being there. Or is he? Perhaps the man does have an inkling of an idea and is merely toying with Sarek. Noting a flicker of irritation cross his brother’s face, Silek silently offered Sarek his sympathy. Brother, you will need all of your diplomatic skills today.

“No,” Sarek’s voice sounded again of the diplomat’s public tone. “I have come here to seek your permission to marry your daughter Amanda.”

The data solid that Robert Grayson had been holding clattered loudly on the rich wood desktop. His face burned a richer shade of red, and his mouth twisted in a grimace. “No!”

His face betraying nothing, Sarek asked mildly, “May I inquire as to why?”

Silek did not expect such vehement opposition, and he raised his eyebrows. Daring a sideways look at Sarek, he noted a line of anger setting in across his brother’s forehead. Sarek was not used to being denied anything on which he set his mind. Even as a child, Sarek boldly took that which he wanted. This is where the fireworks will begin, as they say on this world.

One could almost see the thoughts as they raced across Robert Grayson’s red face. Taking a deep breath, he blew the answer out at the two Vulcans. “Mandy is too young. She’s only nineteen.”

Silek could see relief on his brother’s face and knew it was mirrored on his own. Ah, as with most fathers of daughters, he does not believe her to be old enough to take on a marriage. Indeed, even Vulcans are nearing twenty-one Standard years old before they are brought together by the first pon farr. For a moment, I thought perhaps he simply did not like Sarek.

Sarek’s face and voice softened as he answered. “That I can understand.” He nodded in agreement. “She is young by your standards as well as mine; however, even at her young age, she has already earned her doctorate, lived alone on two continents, and is a serious contender for the Nobel prize. Clearly, she is emotionally mature enough to enter into a marriage.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about my daughter! I say she is still too young!” Robert Grayson argued angrily. “Besides, you’re too old for her. You’re older than I am. My God, you’re three times her age!”

Silek made a quick mental computation. Yes, Sarek was 61.985 Standard years of age. Were he human, he would be equivalent to approximately 30.9925 Standard years of age. Technically, if age was a factor to be considered and if Sarek was human, Robert Grayson would be quite correct in stating that Sarek is too old for Amanda.

Sarek nodded to himself and drew his lips into a straight line. No doubt, he had arrived at the same conclusion. “I concede that point, Mr. Grayson,” Sarek stated softly. “If you would prefer, we will wait until Amanda has reached her age of majority. While she may find the wait difficult to accept, another two years’ time would not be an intolerable duration. I am prepared to wait.”

Robert Grayson’s face darkened more. He shook his head zealously. “No,” he barked. “I won’t have it. Mandy comes from a good, old-fashioned Catholic family. I won’t allow her to marry outside her religion.”

The irresistible force meets the immovable object, Silek thought as he watched the two men face each other. Robert Grayson was the Great Sandstone Tower of Seleya while Sarek was the Grand Obsidian Monolith opposite. And who will win this battle?

Sarek’s face was dark with carefully controlled anger and frustration. He gripped the armrests of his chair and squeezed. His voice was equally controlled and dangerously quiet. “I have not noted Amanda to be so devoted to her worship,” he retorted. “However, if it would ease your mind, I am willing to conform to your religious practices while here on Earth.”

“Are you also willing to have those so-called ears of yours bobbed in order to conform?” yelled Mr. Grayson. He took a deep breath and let it go slowly, but his anger did not subside. “You Vulcans may well be a fine people, but I don’t want my daughter to marry one. Shouldn’t you marry one of your own kind?”

Silek watched with awe as his brother Sarek sat speechless for the first time in his life. I understand now what Amanda meant about her father. I fear that whoever may win this battle, it will be Amanda who loses. How can a man so very xenophobic have a daughter like Amanda?

Sarek leaned forward in the chair, his hands gripping the armrest so tightly that the wood itself squeaked in protest. His face was iron, and when he was able to speak, his voice shook with barely suppressed fury. “I see no solution to this dilemma,” he stated coldly. “Fortunately, the choice is not yours. It is Amanda’s, and she has chosen me.”

“Oh, no it’s not!” Robert Grayson bellowed with fury. His face was contorted by rage. Bolting out of his seat, he leaned across his desk and roared at the Vulcan. “I’m not about to let my only child commit the sin of bestiality with a Vulcan!”

“Kroykah!” Sarek shouted, his control now utterly lost. Vaulting from his seat, Sarek yelled his reply. “You will not speak in that manner about my intended wife!”

Silek, too, leapt from his seat. “My brother, your control!” he cried out. I must help Sarek regain his control! I would not be able stop him should he attack Mr. Grayson. Silek’s heart pounded furiously. If Mr. Grayson continues and Sarek is unable to control, my brother will surely kill him. Then what of poor Amanda?

“Your intended wife?” he spat contemptuously. “My daughter will never be wife to the likes of you! I won’t have my grandchildren sired by some green-blooded freak!”

Miraculously, Silek felt his brother relax. Slowly, Sarek drew in a deep breath and released his anger with the air. With hands tightly clasped behind his back, Sarek took a step backward from Mr. Grayson’s desk. “I hope for your sake as well as Amanda’s that you change your opinion,” Sarek spoke with a robot-like inflection, “for it is quite possible that your only child has been impregnated by the green-blooded freak who stands before you.”

Silek gasped openly. Is that what has prompted my brother’s desire to marry Amanda? Am I to be an uncle?

Mr. Grayson fell back into his chair, breathing heavily. “You bastard,” he hurled. “I’ll…I’ll have you charged with statutory rape!”

“You may certainly try,” Sarek agreed. His voice was devoid of any emotion. “However, you will learn that to be an impossible task. Amanda is some three point zero two years above the age of consent, and I hold diplomatic immunity.” With that, Sarek wheeled about, his formal robes all a whirl as he left the office.

The last sight Silek saw as he hurried to keep up with his brother was Mr. Grayson, his face in his hands sobbing wildly.

Silek was unsure of what to do. Very unsure. In his position at the embassy, he knew that he must continue to follow Sarek. He had not been dismissed. Yet, according to the Vulcan Privacy Code, Silek knew that he should not allow himself to be privy to such personal information. This internal tug of war was distinctly settled once Silek admitted to the one Vulcan failing: curiosity. Or is it plain nosiness on my part? he wondered. No, surely it is more than mere curiosity. We are family, after all.

One thought after another zipped by in quick succession. Family? Is that why my brother has chosen to marry Amanda? Is it that she does, indeed, carry his child as he implied to Mr. Grayson? That thought suddenly rocketed Silek’s eyebrows upward well past his bangs. Has Sarek allowed himself to be trapped into a marriage? Of his own curiosity did he couple with a human, sire a child, and now seek to legitimize his off-spring?

He narrowed his eyes and regarded his brother’s broad shoulders with near-anger. I sincerely hope this is not the case. For I bear some little affection for Amanda, and should I find that my brother has used her merely to satisfy his curiosity regarding the human species, I will side with Mr. Grayson, Silek thought mutinously.

No, he thought, Sarek would not do such a thing. Truly, he must care for Amanda. I have seen his eyes soften when he looked at her. There is affection between them. It is wrong of me to accuse him, even in my mind, of such abuse.

Shrugging mentally, Silek continued to trail behind his elder brother, unsure whether Sarek remembered that he was there at all. Within precisely ten seconds of exiting the bank, Sarek had called the embassy and had them beamed directly back. No long, slow limousine ride home.

Now Sarek was moving briskly towards his office, almost too quickly to maintain decorum. As Silek strode behind his brother, he observed him closely. Sarek was displaying signs that he was not entirely under control. He storms through the embassy like one of Earth’s twisters. Silek imagined his brother’s flowing robes swirling about, throwing asunder everything in its path. Sarek certainly threw Mr. Grayson’s world asunder.

As he swept passed, Sarek barked at his aide, “Have Dr. Grayson report to my office immediately.”

Pulling free of his formal outer robe, Sarek tossed it across a chair where it fell to the floor. Now clad in simple tunic and trousers, Sarek continued his pacing.

Silek considered the irony of having to pick up after his elder brother, who for years had looked after him, and he rescued Sarek’s robe from the floor. He walked across the office where he could hang it in the closet and where he would be the farthest away from his brother.

“I know that you are…” Silek paused, searching for the right word. “…agitated, but, Sarek, you are tottering on the edge of again losing your control.” Silek’s voice was low, and his words were soft.

Sarek wheeled upon his brother as if ready for battle. His eyes flamed with emerald anger, then slowly, they faded. Sarek relaxed, and the tension left his body. He was again in control.

“Forgive me, t’hy’la,” Sarek replied softly. “I do not have the words to explain.” He spread his arms in a hapless gesture and lowered his voice. “My control is uncertain where Amanda is concerned.” His arms slowly dropped to his side.

“I know that you and Amanda have already coupled,” Silek stated gently, “but are you also bonded?”

Not trusting himself to speak aloud, Sarek merely nodded.

“And this bond is complete?”

A hint of a smile erased the tightness of Sarek’s features. “This bond that I have shared with Amanda these past three point zero eight Standard months is far deeper, far more precious than the one I shared with T’Rea for fifty point zero six Standard years.”

“Such a bond,” Silek spoke nearly to himself. “I envy you, my brother.”

“Do not envy me just yet, Silek,” Sarek replied. “I have yet to face…”

Just then the office door swung open as a very angry human female rushed into the room.

“…Amanda,” Sarek finished his sentence.

“Just what did you say to my father?” she demanded.

Sarek squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and adopted the classic debating stance. Clasping his hands before him, he cleared his throat before beginning. “I spoke with your father this morning, Amanda, in order to obtain his permission to marry you.” He paused ever so slightly, thinking of what to say next, but the pause was so slight, it was as if he was merely drawing breath. “I was unsuccessful. Indeed, your father was quite vehement in his objections to our marriage.” He dared a step closer to her. “I must confess to a great deal of misunderstanding as to why your father displays such xenophobia and you, his only child, do not. It seems most ironic when you--”

“Uh huh,” Amanda interrupted. “Save it for the debates.” She frowned at him.

Silek, standing in the corner behind the door, hid a grin. Amanda does not fear anything. My brother has well met his match.

“Sarek, what I want to know is just why my father is under the impression that I’m pregnant?” the match asked, her foot tapping angrily.

Inhaling deeply and clapping his hands together as a means to distract her attention from the soft green now shading the tips of his canted ears, Sarek spoke quickly. “I do not understand,” he stated in that special tone of voice Vulcans use when they wish to dodge the truth. “He…” Sarek paused, searching for non-offensive words. “…may have received the impression that your were pregnant when I pointed out to him that because we were to be married, which entails the production of children, that his bigoted, speciest attitude was highly illogical.”

The humans say of us, that Vulcans cannot lie, Silek thought, his jaw dropping. But, oh my brother, how you have bent the truth here.

Even in her anger, Amanda could not completely stop the silly grin from creeping across her face. She knew Sarek was playing with words. He was a diplomat; playing with words was his specialty.

“Uh huh,” she retorted. As a linguist, she was quite good with words, too. “I don’t suppose you’d like to open our bond right now and share the entire encounter with me word for word, would you?”

Silek’s eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped open even more. Sneaking a glance at Sarek, he saw a mirror of his own expression. No, Sarek, he urged his brother mentally, if she learns of your loss of control topped by this lie you have now told, she may not forgive you.

Nodding sagely, Amanda dismissed her own request. “Never mind, Sarek,” she told him softly. Suddenly it seemed as if all her anger was gone. “I know both you and my father, and I’m pretty sure I can guess what happened.”

Moving quickly to her side, Sarek spoke urgently. “I must apologize to you and to your father.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will do any good,” she snorted bitterly. “Daddy is sending Father Fitzpatrick to come get me.”

With growing trepidation, Silek watched his older brother grope for control. Sarek shook with barely repressed fury. Amazing, he thought, I did not see it before. Except for the xenophobia, Robert Grayson and Sarek are very much alike. Both are powerful men used to getting their way, and they both feel great affection for Amanda.

Tugging open the door, Sarek bellowed an order to Selek. “Selek, have Dr. Grayson’s apartment emptied of all her belongings. Have them brought here to the embassy. She will be living here from now on. I want this completed today.”

As senior aide, Selek was used to the many odd requests that passed his desk each day, and he did not bat an eyelid at Sarek’s order. “Yes, sir, but I will need her access code to enter the premises.”

“Your access code,” Sarek demanded of Amanda.

She hesitated only a moment -- a split second -- but it was enough to stagger the great ambassador. “A moment,” he told Selek before he gently closed the great oak door.

“Amanda,” he spoke with a voice as gritty as sandpaper, “if I have offended beyond forgiveness…” His words stopped. He drew in a shuddering breath and tried again. This time even Silek could scarcely hear the words. “If you wish to sever our bonding, I will understand and allow you to go.”

Amanda blanched. Her face and hands grew as white as death. Her question was breathless, timid, afraid. “Do you wish to sever our bond?”

Squaring his shoulders as if to meet his doom head on, Sarek answered her, his deep voice making his words ring around the room. “I do not.”

By shear will and control, Silek was able to prevent a tear from slipping out. Amanda was unable to duplicate his control. “Neither do I,” she told him softly.

Sarek allowed the threatening smile, a brief triumph, as he tenderly wiped the tears from her checks, but being Vulcan, he could only allow this for a single moment. Stepping backward, face frozen again, he clasped his hands behind his back. “Your access code,” he again demanded.

No hesitation now, Amanda reached into her pocket, withdrawing a slim keycard, and handed it to him.

In tandem, Sarek and the still unnoticed Silek nodded. With ceremonious effort, Sarek opened the door and gave Selek the keycard. Silently, Selek bowed over the small item and left to attend to his designated task.

No sooner had Selek taken the keycard and left than a huge, red-haired human male strode with great haste into the room. Silek was taken aback by his aggressive manner and palpable anger.

The man, dressed all in black, stood close to two meters tall. If his height failed to arrest one’s attention, his hair, a flaming bright red graying at the sides, would not fail to do so.

Silek recognized him from his dress as a priest of one of the Earth’s many religious sects. He must be the family priest of whom Amanda spoke, Silek thought, although I would never have imagined him to be a cleric. His manner is far more suitable for a warrior.

“Father Fitzpatrick?” Amanda stepped in. “I would like you to meet Sarek, my bondmate.”

“Bondmate?” echoed the priest. “That’s just what I’m here to find out about.” Holding out his hand, the tall priest spoke again, this time directly to Sarek. “I’m Father Kevin Fitzpatrick, and Bobby Grayson sent me here to bring his girl home.”

Sarek paused, gauging the steel of this man, and Silek could read the anger in his countenance. “Vulcans do not touch others,” he explained. “We are a telepathic race, and physical contact brings us into contact with the emotions and thoughts of the other. It is also possible, if the other has any psi-potential, to come into contact with ours.”

Gravely, Father Fitzpatrick nodded and clasped his hands together. He pursed his lips considering Sarek’s words, and then sank into one of the chairs set in front of Sarek’s large cherry wood desk. Obviously, he was here to stay for a while.

“Tell me what a ‘bondmate’ is,” he instructed Sarek.

Less of a confrontation than before, but no less uncomfortable for all. If my brother again loses his control as he did this morning and as he appears ready now to do, this warrior-priest will take Amanda home. Against her will, if necessary. Silek frowned at his own thoughts, wondering if and how he could help the situation.

Quickly, before his resolve left him, Silek took the seat opposite the priest. “I am Silek, Sarek’s brother,” he announced. “On my world, the fathers of the intended meet to forge the marriage contract. Our father…” He looked up into his brother’s smoldering eyes. “…is on Vulcan. Mr. Grayson is, shall we say, unwilling to speak on the matter.” Silek glanced around at all the faces around him, some surprised, some angry, and wet his lips nervously. “If you, Father Fitzpatrick, will take on the roll of father for Amanda, I will take my own father’s roll. Perhaps, we two can come to an understanding on the matter.”

The priest leaned back in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He paused, considering. “Don’t you think Bobby and Becca ought to be here? Amanda is their daughter after all.” He looked up and to the right where Amanda stood next to Sarek. “Have a seat, girl,” he ordered Amanda with a jerk of his chin.

“Now wait just a minute!” Amanda exclaimed. “I’m not a child, and I won’t be ordered about like one, nor do I have to answer to anyone. I am an adult in my own right, and family blessing or not, I intend to marry Sarek!” Hands on hips, she defied her family priest.

Amanda, thought Silek, do not antagonize him. Between you and Sarek, the two of you may just sabotage your own marriage.

But the cleric took them all by surprise when he rolled back his head and burst into laughter. “Now, missy, it’s you who should have this red hair of mine. What a temper!” Sitting upright in the chair, he spoke more politely. “Please sit down, girl, we’ve a lot to discuss, and I don’t want to be twisted all around like a pretzel trying to see you,” he told her.

His eyebrows betraying his surprise at the priests mercurial mood, Sarek, nonetheless, stepped quickly into the outer office to retrieve two chairs, one for each of them.

Once Amanda and Sarek were both comfortably seated, Father Fitzpatrick turned to face Silek again. “Now, Silek, what exactly is a bondmate?”

“A bondmate is one of a couple who are bonded,” Silek began. “A bonding is somewhat more than a betrothal yet still less than a marriage. A bond is a telepathic link between husband and wife allowing them to sense the other’s feelings and needs.”

That sounded reasonable. Perhaps my brother is not the only one to inherit our father’s diplomatic skills.

“I see,” the priest stated softly, nodding his head gravely. Abruptly, he turned to Amanda. “Are you telling me, child, that the two of you are linked telepathically?”

“Yes, we are,” she told him. “Father Fitz, I wasn’t there this morning when Sarek and Daddy had their…” –she paused a moment—“…disagreement, but you and I both know how he is about non-humans.”

“I know,” Father Fitz agreed, nodded his head in understanding. “Just why did you go see Bobby?” he asked Sarek.

Maintaining his Vulcan mask and dignity, Sarek steepled his fingers together. “I sought to uphold human tradition by asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Now it was Father Fitzpatrick’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

His expression suggests that he does not believe my brother. “It is true,” Silek spoke forcefully. “Sarek went to seek Amanda’s hand in marriage. It is an honorable, life-long commitment which he has offered to Amanda; one which she has accepted and counter-offered.” He raised his head regally and lifted a single brow. “Indeed, they need neither to seek permission nor a blessing from anyone to seal their marriage.”

Father Fitzpatrick nodded sagely. “Let me see if I understand the situation,” he said. “By the customs and laws of your world, they are considered engaged, well, more than engaged, but not yet married.”

Silek nodded in agreement. “Yes, but they are also engaged to be married according to the customs of this world as well. An offer of marriage was made and accepted between two adults.”

“And the two of you plan to marry no matter what?” he turned to ask Sarek and Amanda.

“That is correct.”

“Yes.”

“What about your parents, Mandy?” Father Fitzpatrick asked softly.

Amanda’s face paled slightly, but she straightened her shoulders. “I pray they’ll accept this, but I love Sarek and nothing can change that.”

When Sarek spoke, his voice was calm. “Family is of great importance on Vulcan, and I would not wish to be at odds with Amanda’s parents. I am willing to meet again with Mr. Grayson for Amanda’s sake.”

“I think that would be best,” Father Fitzpatrick stated. “There’s just one thing I want to know before I go.” Taking Amanda’s hands in his own and locking eyes with her, he asked bluntly. “Are you pregnant, child?”

Her eyes never wavering from his, she firmly replied, “No.”

It is no one’s business but their own that they have coupled. Perhaps I can distract this priest from forcing a break of the Vulcan Privacy Code, Silek thought. “It is quite unlikely that Amanda will ever become pregnant with my brother’s child,” Silek spoke up. “I would estimate the chance of conception between the two of them to be sixteen million three hundred forty-two thousand eight hundred sixty two point zero nine two four to one.”

“But you could be,” Father Fitzpatrick persisted. “Isn’t that right?” But before Amanda could reply, he let go of her hands and stood up.

Sarek and Silek stood with him. “Yes, I think it’s best the two of you go ahead and have a formal ceremony since you’re already married in the eyes of God.” He sighed sadly. “I’ll call later you later today, Silek, and we can set up a time and place to meet. In the meantime, I’ll work on Bobby,” he told them.

“That is acceptable,” he replied.

“Will you escort me to the door?” the priest asked as he walked to the office door. He stood, holding the door for Silek.

Silek nodded, following the tall man. “I would be honored,” he stated formally as he passed through the door.

With one backward look and a solemn nod, Father Fitzpatrick slowly closed the door giving the young couple their privacy.

The End