Star Trek - Sarek

by A. C. Crispin

  Spock's sensitive hearing picked up the swish of the pressure curtain

  moving aside, so he was prepared when the door opened, framing McCoy.

  The doctor's expression was somber as he walked out into the corridor.

  In silence, the two officers went into Sarek's office. When the

  ambassador saw them, he rose from his desk and the three walked out to

  the living room. McCoy sank down on the couch and glanced around. "You

  have a lovely home, Ambassador Sarek."

  The elder Vulcan inclined his head. "My wife's doing, for the most

  part," he said.

  "The view outside is magnificent, too. I never saw anything like the

  Forge on any world I've visited."

  "It is a relatively unique configuration," Sarek agreed.

  Spock, who was sitting beside the medical officer on the couch, shifted

  impatiently. "Doctor ... what did your examination indicate?"

  McCoy shook his head. "I'm sorry, Spock. The Healers

  are correct. The Reyerson's is, for the moment, in remission.

  But I'm afraid that when I speak to Dr. T'Mal, I'm going to recommend

  that she halt your mother's treatments."

  The first officer glanced quickly at his father, then back at the human.

  "Why, Doctor?"

  "Because they're causing a tremendous strain on your mother's already

  frail system. While I was examining her, she suffered a small

  stroke--and my findings indicate that wasn't the first one."

  "A stroke?" Spock half-rose from the couch.

  "It was a good thing I was there. I was able to arrest it, and prevent

  any significant damage. My sensor readings indicate that she's had at

  least two others within the past week or so.

  Minor ones, but they take their toll."

  "What is your prognosis, Dr. McCoy?" Sarek spoke for the first time in

  minutes.

  "Well, I can't really say definitively. These things differ with

  individuals ..." the human began, evasively.

  Sarek stared levelly at the Starfleet medical officer. "With all due

  respect, I must remind you that you are not speaking to a human family,

  Doctor. Please do not dissemble."

  McCoy took a deep breath. "All right." He stared levelly at the

  ambassador. "The Healer was, if anything, optimistic.

  I would say it's a matter of a few weeks ... possibly only days."

  Spock drew in a soft breath as the doctor's words struck him like a

  blow. It wasn't until that moment that the Vulcan realized, bitterly,

  that he'd hoped his old friend would be able to work some kind of

  miracle. Illogical the Vulcan part of his mind whispered. Illogical if

  not irrational ... hope is a human emotion.

  All at once he was acutely conscious of the automatic time sense marking

  off the hours, minutes, and seconds in his brain. Usually, the Vulcan

  never thought about it, unless he needed to, but suddenly, it was as

  pervasive as the ticking of some huge, old-fashioned Terran clock.

  Time ... Amanda's time was running out. '

  Without a word to the others, he rose from his seat and beaded for his

  room. Fingers numb, he pulled on rough, outdoor clothing and desert

  boots. He was not thinking, he was simply obeying a strong, almost

  instinctive need to move, to be outside, to walk the rough soil and

  climb the jagged stone of his homeworld.

  The heat struck him as he headed into the hills, but Spock ignored it.

  He was too conscious of the seconds ticking away inexorably in his head

  ...

  "Ambassador?." Sarek looked up at the sound of Soran's voice. The

  ambassador was sitting by Amanda's bedside, her hand in his, so he would

  be there when she awakened.

  On McCoy's advice, he had engaged a Healer's aide to monitor his wife's

  condition, but he and Spock had been taking turns remaining with her

  during most of their waking hours, ever since Dr. McCoy's revelation two

  days ago.

  Now, seeing the concern in his young aide's eyes, the Vulcan hastily

  left the bedroom and stepped into the hallway. "What is it, Soran?"

  "Ambassador, a priority call just came in for you from President

  Ra-ghoratrei," he said. "The president wishes to speak with you. He says

  it is urgent."

  Sarek nodded a quick acknowledgment as he headed for his office. Moments

  later, he was seated before his comm link. A presidential aide

  recognized him, nodded briefly; then the image wavered and was replaced

  with that of the Deltan Federation president. Ra-ghoratrei nodded a

  somber greeting to the Vulcan.

  "Ambassador Sarek. Your aide told me of your wife's illness. I regret

  having to call upon you at such a time, but I have no choice."

  "What is it, Mr. President?"

  "A band of Klingon renegades has captured an Orion colony--the planet

  Kadur amand they are holding several thousand colonists hostage. The

  Klingon leader is threatening to kill the hostages unless the Federation

  agrees to negotiate a release and monetary settlement with him." The

  president took a deep breath. "Ambassador ... a great

  many lives hang in the balance. For this mission we need our best

  negotiator--and that is you. The meeting will take place on Deneb Four."

  Sarek briefly reviewed what he knew of the conference center on Deneb

  IV. It was at least three days' journey at maximum warp. A week to go

  there and return, as well as whatever time the negotiations would

  require ... he would probably be away from home for at least two weeks,

  possibly three ...

  The ambassador knew without consulting T'Mal or McCoy that, given her

  present condition, Amanda would probably not survive long enough for him

  to travel to the neutral site, handle the negotiations, and return. If

  he left his wife now, it was unlikely that he would ever see her alive

  again.

  Nevertheless, there was only one logical course of action.

  The Vulcan took a deep breath. It is my duty. I cannot risk so many

  lives. The needs of the many ... "I will go, Mr. President," he said,

  steadily.

  Ra-ghoratrei breathed a sigh of relief. "The Federation thanks you,

  Ambassador. The hostages will now have the best chance to keep their

  lives and regain their freedom."

  "I will need a complete report on the Klingon Commander," Sarek said. "I

  will depart this afternoon, provided my pilot can ready my transport.

  Send the information about this Klingon via subspace message, if you

  will."

  "I will direct Admiral Burton, the head of Starfleet Security, to do

  so," the president promised.

  "Very well. Sarek out."

  "Thank you again, Ambassador. Out."

  Rising from his seat, Sarek quickly gave Soran instructions to prepare

  for the journey. Then, knowing it was for the last time, he went to bid

  farewell to his wife.

  "Amanda." The voice reached her in the darkness, pulling her back to

  light and awareness. The voice was familiar, known, beloved. An

  authoritative, precise voice with a faint resonance. Pleasantly deep,

  extremely cultured. The voice of her husband.

  Amanda opened her eyes. Strong fingers grasped her hand gently but

  firmly. Sarek's fingers.

  "Sarek," she murmured, g
azing up into the face she had known and loved

  for so many years. "Have I been asleep long.*"

  "Several hours. My wife, I regret having to wake you, but I must speak

  with you ... before I take my leave."

  Amanda's eyes opened wider. "Leave?" she asked faintly, too weak to

  conceal the dismay his words caused her. "Why?

  Where are you going?"

  "There is an emergency on the planet Kadura," Sarek said. "I just

  finished speaking to President Ra-ghoratrei. He asked me to negotiate

  the release of a Federation colony that has been seized by Klingon

  renegades. There are thousands of colonists whose lives are in jeopardy.

  I must go, Amanda.

  It is my duty."

  Her heart contracted at his words. "How ... how long will it take?" she

  asked, her words scarcely audible above the faint hum of the medical

  monitors. "Must you go?"

  "Yes. I must take ship for Deneb Four within the hour. It is difficult

  to say how long I will be gone. Ten days, at the minimum. If the

  negotiations proceed slowly ..." He trailed off and his fingers

  tightened slightly on hers.

  "I see," Amanda whispered. "Very well, Sarek. I understand."

  Her husband regarded her, his dark eyes shadowed with grief. Gently, he

  reached out and touched her hair, her cheek. "Amanda ... if I could, I

  would stay here with you.

  You know that, do you not?"

  Silently, she nodded, fighting to hold back tears. His dear, familiar

  face began to swim in her vision. No! she thought, blinking fiercely. I

  will not cry. I will not let tears steal my last sight of you. I will

  not let weeping mar our last farewell.

  "Sarek ..." she whispered, turning her fingers so her hand grasped his,

  returning the pressure. "I will miss you, my husband. I wish you did not

  have to go."

  "I will return as soon as possible, Amanda," he promised, his eyes never

  leaving hers. "The instant Kadura is free, I will come home."

  But you will almost certainly be too late, and we both know it, Amanda

  thought, her eyes never leaving his face for a moment. She hated even to

  blink. In a few minutes her husband would be gone, and she would never

  see him again ... at least, not in this life.

  "I want you to remember something," she said, struggling to keep her

  voice even.

  "What, Amanda?"

  "Never forget that I love you, my husband. Always." She gazed at him

  intently, holding his eyes with her own. "You will need to remember

  that, Sarek, very soon now. Promise me you won't forget."

  "My memory is typical for a Vulcan," he said, quietly. "I forget very

  little, my wife."

  "I know. But remembering my words in your head, and remembering them

  here," freeing her hand, she gently laid it on his side, where his heart

  lay, "are two different things.

  Promise me."

  "You have my word, Amanda," he said, his dark eyes filled with profound

  sorrow.

  I know that you love me, she thought, gazing up at him.

  But I will not embarrass you by telling you so ... "Spock will be here

  with you," Sarek said. "Do not forget that, my wife."

  "His presence will be a great comfort," she said, softly.

  Her gaze moved over his face, tracing the angular lines.

  Putting her hand up, she touched his cheek, his eyes, his lips, thinking

  of the many times she had kissed him there.

  "Sarek, hold me. I want to feel your arms around me. Hold me."

  Gently, he reached forward, scooped her up, and cradled her against him.

  Amanda slid her arms around him and laid her head on his chest with a

  long sigh. Briefly, she abandoned herself to the moment ... her soul

  was content.

  Finally she raised her head. "Sarek, I want you to promise me one more

  thing."

  He had difficulty meeting her eyes ... Amanda could tell through their

  bond that he was profoundly moved. "What is it, Amanda?"

  "I want you to read my journals ... afterward. Take the first one with

  you now, my husband. Promise me you'll read all of them. Please?"

  Sarek nodded; then, with infinite gentleness, he helped settle her back

  onto the bed. Going into her sitting room, he returned with a slim,

  red-covered volume. On the spine was affed the number 1. "This one?" he

  asked, holding it up.

  "Yes, that one," Amanda said, regarding him steadily as she lay propped

  up on her pillows. "Read it. And when you've finished that one, go on

  and read the next ... until you've read them all."

  "I will do so, Amanda."

  "I know you will," she said, and holding out her hand, two fingers

  extended, she smiled at him. Somewhere deep inside herself, she was

  crying, but she refused to let him see.

  Let him remember me smiling, she thought.

  Her husband held out his hand, brushed two fingers against hers, and

  they remained that way for many seconds.

  Then, with a last, grave nod, Sarek walked away, pushing through the

  pressure curtain without looking back.

  Spock saw the pressure curtain move; then his father appeared. The

  ambassador's eyes widened slightly as he realized that his son must have

  been listening to him as he bade farewell to his wife; then they

  narrowed with anger.

  Before his father could speak, the first officer signaled curtly for

  silence and beckoned the ambassador out into the hall.

  Only when the tekla wood door was firmly closed did Spock turn to regard

  his father.

  "Eavesdropping is discourteous, my son," Sarek said, and Spock could

  tell he was irritated, though his voice was carefully neutral.

  Spoek ignored the mild rebuke. He held his father's eyes with his own,

  and his own voice was cold. "Soran told me that the president called,

  and why. He also told me that you have ordered your transport prepared.

  You intend to go to Deneb Four?"

  "Yes," Sarek said, eyeing his son with a touch of wariness.

  "I have just taken my leave of your mother."

  "So I heard." Spock's voice cut like a shard of obsidian. "I must admit

  that I found it difficult to believe. You actually intend to leave her?

  In her present condition?"

  "I must," Sarek said, quietly. "The needs of the many outweigh the

  needs--"

  "To quote an appropriate human phrase, "To hell with that,'" Spock broke

  in, his voice rough with anger and grief.

  "You cannot leave her like this."

  "I recall a time," Sarek said, "when you chose to remain at your post,

  when only you could save my life."

  Spock paused. "Yes," he said, after a moment, "but I have grown since

  then. It is a pity that you have not."

  Sarek's eyebrow rose at his son's words and the unconcealed emotion.

  "Spock, we all have our duties to consider. The situation at Kadura is

  critical."

  "So is my mother," the first officer said flatly. "She will not survive

  long enough for you to return, and you know it.

  Your leaving in itself will very likely hasten her end." He regarded his

  father unwaveringly.

  The ambassador paused, and Spock knew that the thought of his leaving

  actually harming Amanda had not
occurred to him until now. "You will be

  here with her," he said, finally. "She will not be alone."

  "She needs her family with her," Spock said obdurately.

  "You are her bondmate--her husband. Your loyalty should be to her. There

  are other diplomats on Vulcan. Senkar has handled situations of this

  nature before. Let him negotiate for Kadura's release."

  "The president requested that I handle the negotiations personally,"

  Sarek said.

  "He cannot order you." Spock's gaze never wavered as he held his

  father's eyes. "Refuse ... under the circumstances, no one will

  question your actions."

  Sarek straightened his shoulders. "Spock, I have no more time to discuss

  this. I must leave now."

  "You mean that you wish to leave," Spock said, his voice cold and flat.

  "You do not have the courage to stay and see her through this."

  Answering anger sparked in Sarek's eyes. "I will not

  remain to hear such acrimonious--and illogical--out-pourings, Spock. I