Star Trek - Sarek

by A. C. Crispin

  Wish me success, Kirk! Korrd out." The captain cut the connection with a

  grin, shaking his head.

  The bridge crew looked as though they didn't know whether to laugh or

  cry, cheer or curse. Chekov seemed to be doing a little of everything,

  mostly in Russian.

  "Well, I'll be damned," Kirk said, to no one in particular.

  "That was ... close."

  The first thing Sarek was conscious of upon waking was that the pain

  from the senapa wound was gone ... vanished. He did not have to exert

  biocontrol to repress it. The second thing the ambassador realized, as

  soon as he opened his eyes, was that he was in the Enterprise's sickbay.

  The bed he was resting in was in a secluded alcove.

  Glancing around, Sarek saw that his son occupied a bed across from him.

  Spock's eyes were closed ... he was breath ing deeply. Asleep.

  Events rushed back as the ambassador stretched cautiously.

  The fight with Taryn ... beaming over to the Enterprise. McCoy's fight

  to save the wing commander. The last thing Sarek remembered was being

  hooked up to a blood-filtration device, at the same time as Spock was

  readied for a massive transfusion. Spock's blood now coursed through his

  veins ... Spock's blood had helped to preserve his life.

  Just as it had all those years ago ... Slowly, the ambassador sat up,

  then reached for the intercom switch beside the bed. He summoned one of

  McCoy's nurses, and, when the man appeared, he made a request.

  Minutes later, Sarek held in his hands one of the red volumes of his

  wife's journal. Swiftly, the Vulcan flipped through the pages, searching

  for a particular entry ... and found it ...

  December 7,2267 Sarek is safe ... Dr. McCoy operated on his heart, and

  he will be fine--mere words cannot convey my relief. I really thought

  that I was going to lose him. Oh, Sarek ... if you weren't in my life

  anymore, I don't know how I would go on. I would NOT want to go on.

  But, thankfully, I don't have to face such desolation.

  Something ... the gods, fate, fortune ... if there is a governing

  force to the cosmos, today It was kind.

  And today ... for the first time in eighteen long years ... today we

  were a family again. It was wonderful.

  I had given up hope that those two stubborn Vulcans would ever

  reconcile--and, yet today they were both teasing me about logic, and the

  glint of humor in Spock's eyes matched the one in Sarek T This evening

  McCoy agreed to let ta all have dinner in sickbay, and we ate together

  as a family--with an honored guest, of course. Captain Kirk is such a

  charmer!

  And he knows it, too ... ) It has indeed been an eventful day. I am

  tired out, yet I don't want to sleep, yet. I want to savor the knowledge

  that we are a family again, and that my son and husband are on good

  terms.

  Family ... what a lovely word. I don't think there is a better one in

  the entire language ... After so many years of enmity and anger ...

  family. I pray that their goodwill toward each other will continue.

  They are both so stiffnecked, so stubborn./Neither is ever willing to

  admit that he was wrong ... especially Sarek.

  But today the fates were kind, and we were spared a tragedy. I wonder if

  I would truly have hated my son for the rest of his life if he had

  allowed his father to die because he felt he could not give over command

  of his vessel? Or would I have forgiven him eventually?

  Thank heavens I will never have to find out ...

  The entry ended there. Slowly, thoughtfully, Sarek closed the journal,

  struck by his wife's words, written so long ago.

  Amanda could almost have been describing the present situation between

  Spock and himself ... Amanda ... he thought, gazing across the room at

  his son's sleeping face. Amanda, what shoum I do now?

  As it happened, Spock was riot asleep. He lay quietly, breathing deeply,

  relaxed, but he was fully aware that his father was reading one of his

  mother's journals. As he watched surreptitiously, he saw the elder

  Vulcan put the slim volume down with a sigh.

  The first officer thought of the events of the previous day, recalling,

  with a chill, Sarek's duel with Taryn. Several times, as he'd watched

  from the sidelines, Spock had been convinced that the ambassador was

  finished ... but always, Sarek had rallied and fought back with a skill

  that had surprised and impressed his offspring.

  Spock had never realized that his father, the diplomat, had so mastered

  the ancient fighting techniques. And then, as Taryn had lain there,

  gasping his last, Sarek had melded with him, saving the wing commander's

  life. The first officer repressed a surge of envy. His father had never

  chosen to meld with him ... but he had not hesitated to join his mind

  with a stranger's ...

  Glancing around the sickbay as McCoy bustled around in the next room,

  checking on several patients who had been injured during the

  Enterprise's battle with Kamarag's ship, Spock experienced a strong

  flash of djh vu.

  The Vulcan remembered that day his mother had come to his quarters,

  begging him to go to his father and give Sarek the blood transfusion

  that would enable McCoy to operate, and thus save Sarek's life. Amanda

  had come to him, had begged with tears in her eyes ... and he, Spock,

  had refused to go.

  Because of duty.

  He had told his mother that he could not, would not go to Sarek, and the

  reason he had given her was that duty

  demanded that he remain in command of the Enterprise ...

  Remembering Amanda's response to his words, the Vulcan raised a hand to

  his cheek. For a moment he almost reexperienced the slap she had given

  him ... for a moment he could almost feel the sting. Spock recalled

  being surprised by the strength of the blow--he'd received many in

  fights that hadn't matched its impact.

  Duty ... duty ... duty ... The word whispered through his mind,

  sounding vaguely obscene when it was repeated enough times to lose all

  meaning. Spock glanced over at his father, remembering the way he had

  condemned Sarek for doing exactly what he himself had done, twenty-six

  years before.

  I am sorry, Mother, he thought, not quite sure what he was apologizing

  for ... the events of that day twenty-six years ago, or what he'd said

  to his father only days ago? He thought he'd grown more than his father.

  But had he really?

  Perhaps not ... "Spock ..." Sarek's voice reached him. Instantly Spock

  sat up and regarded the ambassador.

  "I am here ... sir," he said.

  "Are you ... well?" the elder Vulcan asked, eyeing him measuringly.

  "I am," Spock said. "And you?"

  "Well," Sarek said, sounding slightly surprised. "Though thirsty. And

  rather weak."

  Spock glanced around the sickbay, saw no attendants, and, rather than

  buzz for one, got up himself, poured a glass of water, and took it to

  his father. "Here," he said, prepared to help the elder Vulcan sit up if

  he needed it, but Sarek was able to do so unaided.

  The ambassador sipped gratefully at the cool water. "And you, my son?"


  he asked, putting the glass down.

  "I am well," Spock said.

  "The Klingon fleet?" Sarek asked.

  "The Enterprise engaged Kamarag's ship, backed by Poldar aboard

  Shardarr. "Spock raised an eyebrow. "And it

  seems that your old acquaintance Keraz threw in his lot with the forces

  of law and order. The captain was in to visit me several hours ago, ,and

  told me that Azetbur has promised the commander a full pardon."

  Sarek nodded. "What of Kamarag?"

  "Enterprise managed to cripple his ship. I gather that Kamarag did not

  choose to live through his defeat."

  The ambassador nodded. "Loss of life is always regrettable, but ...

  perhaps ... this is one time it is better so." The elder Vulcan glanced

  over at the other diagnostic couch.

  "Commander Taryn's readings are almost normal, now," he observed.

  "Yes, McCoy says he's sleeping normally. He'll be able to return to his

  ship within a day." Spock gazed at Sarek.

  "From what little I heard of what he said to you and Poldar, his

  experience during the duel and the mind-meld evidently ... changed

  Taryn."

  "He is grateful to me for saving his life," Sarek said. "But, even more,

  he feels that he has regained his Vulcan heritage, apparently through

  our mental link. I gather that his past had haunted him all his life.

  When he faced, with me, what he most feared ... it lost its power over

  him."

  "What will happen now with the Vulcans on Freelan?"

  "Taryn will escort us to Freelan and authorize any of them that choose

  to leave aboard the Enterprise as free to go," the ambassador replied.

  "But after the Vulcans who wish to emigrate are released," Spock

  ventured, after a few minutes, "what will happen to Taryn? Do you think

  he will come to Vulcan with the others?"

  Sarek shook his head. "No," he said, and there was more than a touch of

  sadness in his expression. "Taryn will go back to Romulus, to face his

  superiors and his praetor. He has not said so, but I know his mind,

  now."

  "But ... if he does that, he will be executed for treason," Spock said.

  "Yes," Sarek agreed, holding his son's eyes with his own.

  "But he believes it is his duty ... and, after my recent

  actions, who am I to tell anyone not to fulfill his duty, no matter what

  the cost?"

  The two Vulcans shared a long, unblinking look; then Spock swallowed.

  His voice, when he spoke, had a rough edge, like a jagged tear in dark

  velvet. "Father ..." The word emerged with difficulty after all these

  days. "About what I said after mother's memorial service ..." He paused,

  searching for words.

  Grief mixed with a touch of hope flared in the ambassador's eyes. "Yes,

  my son?" Before Spock could continue, he raised a hand. "I must tell you

  that I have thought a great deal on what you said, after the memorial

  service. I only hope that my actions did not hasten Amanda's end. You

  may have been right when you accused me of going because I lacked the

  courage to stay, Spock ... "

  "And I may have been wrong, Father," Spock said, forcing the words out.

  "I know, now, that my mother's death was inevitable. Remember, Dr. McCoy

  told us that she had only days. And ... there is something else I must

  tell you "

  "Yes?"

  "When I told you that Mother could not find peace,

  I ... may not have been entirely correct."

  Sarek raised an eyebrow.

  "I was angry," Spock said, not allowing himself to sound defensive at

  the admission, "and what I said, for the most part, was the truth ...

  but ... at the very end ..." He had to stop, take a deep breath, before

  he could go on. "She relaxed. She even smiled. She appeared peaceful."

  Sarek nodded silently, and it was a long time before the ambassador

  spoke. Finally he stirred. "Thank you, my son," he said softly. "Your

  words have meant a great deal to me."

  Valdyr watched Dr. McCoy check the regenerated tissue on her wound. She

  had on a bizarre, blue, two-piece outfit one of the female nurses

  brought for her to wear until her own clothes could be cleaned and

  repaired. The garments were comfortable--too comfortable, she

  thought--but they were so flimsy she wasn't entirely convinced they

  would survive her normal activities. McCoy had discreetly lifted the top

  over her abdomen and was running his hand gently over the new tissue.

  She grimaced, peeking at it herself.

  "That doesn't hurt, does it?" McCoy asked her, as he poked around.

  "Of course not," Valdyr said sternly. As if any Klingon would have

  admitted if it did! McCoy looked at her and she could see the amusement

  etched on his face." He'd been so kind to her, she couldn't help but

  relax around him. "Well," she admitted reluctantly, "it did at

  first--just a little. Now, all it does is itch."

  "That won't last, miss," he assured her. "Another day or so, and you

  won't even know anything ever happened there."

  She made a face at him, and he grinned. "How can you say that when that

  place is all pale and soft.t"

  "As your own cells replace it," McCoy said, "that'll be fixed, too. We

  wouldn't want you looking like a patched-up battleship!" The sickbay

  doors whooshed open, making both of them turn to see Peter enter the

  exam area. The cadet looked at them quizzically, as if wondering if he'd

  come at a bad time. McCoy waved him over as he covered the wound.

  "However, I should tell you, Valdyr, human males like a little softness

  in a woman." He raised an eyebrow at Peter, who gave them an embarrassed

  smile.

  "Not that one," Valdyr said confidently--and her words made Peter's face

  turn crimson.

  The cadet glowered at her disapprovingly. "I think you're feeling too

  well," he decided.

  "She's doing great," confirmed McCoy, "thanks to her amazing

  constitution. I take it you're here to take my favorite patient away

  from me?"

  "Yes, sir," Peter said. Turning to Valdyr, he told her,

  "We've got your quarters all prepared. It's time you gave up that bed to

  someone who really needs it." At that moment, the doors opened, and Jim

  Kirk entered.

  "You've had half the ship locked away in here, Bones," the captain

  complained good-naturedly. Eyeing Valdyr, the captain smiled and nodded.

  "How are you feeling?"

  She nodded back reservedly. He had come to her, himself, to tell her of

  her uncle's death following the Heghba'. It had been a sign of great

  respect, and she'd appreciated it. He had not flinched, either, when

  she'd voiced the ritual howl.

  Valdyr was coming to think humans weren't nearly as weak as she'd been

  led to believe.

  "We were just about to inspect Valdyr's quarters, Uncle Jim," Peter told

  him. "Dr. McCoy told me this morning she could be released."

  Kirk nodded and turned back to Valdyr. "I'm here on official business."

  He looked at Valdyr meaningfully. "A little more pleasant business than

  the last time, thank goodness. Miss. Valdyr, Chancellor Azetbur has

  asked to speak with you."

  "With me?" Valdyr said, incr
edulously. "The chancellor would speak with

  me?"

  Kirk walked over to the wall viewscreen and tapped a sequence on the

  control panel. A Klingon face appeared.

  "Tell the chancellor that Valdyr is here, ready to speak with her."

  Valdyr's heart was hammering.

  Suddenly, Chancellor Azetbur's image filled the screen.

  She looked so stern, so powerful, so impossibly noble and honorable that

  Valdyr simply stared, transfixed. She reminded the young Klingon woman

  of the portrait in her uncle's home. "Chancellor ..." Valdyr finally

  managed to whisper.

  Azetbur's face warmed into a gracious smile. "Valdyr! It is an honor to

  speak with you. And a pleasure."

  Azetbur felt honored to meet her? Valdyr's gaped. "Oh, no, Chancellor. I

  have no honor ... I betrayed--"

  "Nonsense!" the chancellor interrupted briskly. "None of our people has

  more honor. You risked everything to save Qo'nos and our people--and you

  succeeded. You received an honorable wound in battle. You helped to save

  the honor of your family, from Kamarag's attempt to destroy it.

  Qo'nos will never forget your sacrifice. While you were recovering, I

  have spoken to the people who know you well.