Spock's Side

He could feel his hot breath so close to his face, taunting him! This intruder, this smart-assed reject's words were like hot pokers jabbing into his brain.

"Your loss can't even compute."

There it was again, another insult to his Vulcan ancestry.

The expression on James Kirk's face, even the tilt of his head along with his tone of voice were in themselves a challenge. Without verbalization the message was 'So what are you going to do about it, you misfit?'

This cadet's presence on The Enterprise is completely unexplained. And that is what really does not compute. They were going at warp speed and he did not materialize on a transporter pad.

There was no doubt in Spock's mind that James Kirk's companion could answer that question. Spock recognized him as that brilliant engineer, Montgomery Scott. This wet, disheveled individual's lack of cooperation added another insult to his authority.

The next statement uttered by Kirk regarding the natural human desire to avenge his mother's death caused Spock's breath to become shallow. To put the young cadet on alert Spock said,

"Step away from me mister,"

Kirk was wandering into dangerous territory—Spock's mind raced back to his youthful encounter near his educational sphere. In his life there was only one thing Spock truly held sacred—his mother. He had suffered thirty-four efforts to elicit an emotional response that had denigrated his father. How were these Vulcan youths to know that they were about to trample on holy ground? Desecration of what is holy is a punishable act in most civilization. Vulcan was no different. Based on that premise Spock felt his logic had not been abandoned and thus his subsequent actions sound.

But it was not just inexperienced youths who would trespass. His appearance before the aged ministers of The Vulcan Science Academy had elicited a response that was likewise dictated by what he considered a sacrilegious act. It was when one of their members referred to her as a disadvantage. That view of his mother sealed his fate. He declined entry to that prestigious institute. But with their derogatory mention of his mother it had given him license to wish them, contrary to his true thoughts, 'Live Long and Prosper'.

His mother, the one thing in his life that went beyond logic into the tempting waters of his earthly emotions, the only real warmth in his early life, who even in death, was not to be trampled upon or become a next weapon of insult.

"You never, ever loved her!"

The blood clouded his eyes. For the next .35 seconds everything was a blur. To the observer, that blur was evidenced by the speed in which he dispatched his tormenter. But to him, the lack of focus was as the result of the state of his mind, moving against all logic and control. Every insult, toward his once living beloved mother was addressed and satisfied in this one episode.

With one hand he had captured the tormentor's throat and gripped it with measured pressure, each increment bringing an increasing measure of pain and suffocation. Why did the fringes of his logical mind denote pleasure at the cadet's discomfort and terror?

Then he heard a commanding voice…This was the first time his father had spoken to him since he left Vulcan for Star Fleet Academy. The tone was accusatory…"Spochkh!"

As Spock turned to look into the speaker's face, which was of course, devoid of anything, he bowed his head. Spock, son of Sarek, son of Skon, son of Solkar of the house of Surak had brought shame on his house. He bowed his head.

Once his physical and mental focus returned he walked to the ship's medical officer,

"I am emotionally compromised and am unfit for duty and therefore relinquish my command. Please record the date and time in the ship's logs. He then turned to go back to the place of his anguish, to the place of his loss.

Nyota stood there was pleading in her eyes.

His silent message was, "Vrazahav Nas-veh." (I have failed)

Her reply gave him hope,

"Woria-Ashayam." (Never Beloved)

As he traveled to the transporter room he imagined human eyes observing him, watching his walk of shame. What probably would have surprised him was that their eyes reflected great sympathy, compassion, empathy and held message of condolence.

For the first time in his life Spock was not attuned to his internal clock. He had no idea how long he stood staring at the transporter pad that was supposed to have brought his mother safely to him, to Sarek, to the rest of the heart of Vulcan. No amount of staring would make it different. No matter how long he stood on that spot she would not appear. So what he was doing at that point was totally against everything that his people held as a priority—LOGIC.

First he had disowned his own self by his actions on the bridge. Now he continued to do so by his actions now. Both of these responses were emotional, part of his Terran DNA, part of his mother's legacy. Those thoughts justified his continued attention to that small spot, in this large room, in this even larger vessel.

His father's approach was silent. Again, Spock had no idea his father had been witness to this present illogical behavior. Sarek silently moved forward…

"Speak you mind Spock."

"That would be unwise."

"What is necessary is never unwise."

Spock voice was a horse whisper,

"I am unable to control the anger I feel toward those that murdered my Mo'meek, your Aduna. It is like a raging fire that no amount of logic can remove. My very being screams out for revenge."

"You are in fact requesting I excuse you, for your prior conduct? For what reason my Son, because you are acting in a way that reveals that you are partly of me and partly of your mother? I could not in any way deny you that birthright because you are all I have left of her, she who was Terran, human, earthly."

Sarek's head was bowed and his breathing labored. These were not emotionally responses in his father, they were physical His grief had reached deeply into his very being and was now as exposed to Spock as much as Spock's anger had been to Sarek.

His father now approached Spock and said,

"A long time ago when you were but a child you asked me why I married your mother. I will now answer you in totality. Logic was the secondary reason because in actuality I married your mother because I loved her. She was half my heart, half my soul, My K'diwa.

Two males who loved the same woman stared at each other. One as her bondmate, husband, lover and partner, the other as her son both stood facing one another—their hearts touching.

Out of that period of grief came this realization on Spock's part—his father had defied every established Vulcan law, edict, person, family member and even The High Council to keep the woman he loved. Could not he, Spock, do the same? There would be no more hiding or subtleties. There would only be whatever actions were necessary to free his mother's spirit, her nature that was within him. To His Nyota he would express himself openly for she was now the only living woman he loved.