Chapter 14

Amanda settled into her seat in the shuttle, turning the disc that Bart had given her over in her hand. Having rescued it from her luggage at the last minute, she opened the case to find a note from the Earth Ambassador:

Couldn't get much for you on short notice about Ajart. What my staff found reads more like a travelogue, and a damn subjective one at that. Probably something given to an idealistic intern as busy work at some point. But the images are pretty. Anything else they found was basically statistics and I'm sure that if you're interested in those, you can just drop a coin in the nearest Vulcan, and they will oblige with all the numbers you need.

Have a safe trip,

Bart

She would certainly need to thank Bart for being so thoughtful when they returned to Vulcan. Inserting the disc, she let her finger wander above the screen for a moment, pondering whether to select "Ajart" or "Welcome to Vulcan". The latter was tempting but the former made more sense right now. She tapped on the link and the text started to appear, sprinkled with images of her destination…

More than a thousand years ago, the Ajarti knew that their race was dying. They had spent much of their long existence in the pursuit of peace among the sentient beings scattered about their arm of the galaxy. The stabilization of relationships among those sentient beings and the harmony that is its result became the very theme of their existence. When they realized their time was numbered, they offered up their home world, filled with the peace of a million years, as a neutral ground for any who sought to take up their cause. They presented it as a base to those who pursue resolutions for the conflicts that all too often flare between countries, worlds, or species, in hope that the work done there would further their legacy long after the last Ajarti had passed on over the Never Ending Sea, to the Realm of the Dead…

Before her floated a globe of blue sprinkled with clouds and a single large continent, an otherworldly version of Pangaea. She felt a pang of homesickness for Earth.

…Several worlds have taken the Ajarti up on their offer, creating permanent residences in the ancient city of Ti-eer, on the edge of the fabled sea. The famed Eiar Institute is housed there, dedicated exclusively to the advancement of peace- a think tank composed of some of the most renowned diplomats and statesbeings in the known universe. Peacemaking as a task sometimes seems impossible, but the institute's members believe the triumph lies in the ongoing attempt and the refusal to lose faith…

The Institute's image spun up from the screen before her, like some great mythical seat of learning. The imposing structure was balanced by a great length of steps that were guarded on either side by fantastical winged creatures.

…Apart from Ti-eer, only one other inhabited city remains, Aj-oon, where most of the last Ajarti live counting the number of their remaining days, an inland city that few non-Ajarti have ever seen, save for the ever-present Bedeles. This race of broad little beings have been in service to the Ajarti for time beyond memory. They are not native, but instead migratory workers, whose positions are passed down generation-to-generation, living a set number of years on Ajart, accumulating enough funds to retire on before passing their position on to the next generation. The Bedeles keep the nuts and bolts of Ajart running, taking care of the practical so that others can extend their energy in more idealistic pursuits.

Ti-eer is now largely taken over by various off-world species. A compact city set on the edge of the turquoise sea with gleaming marble palaces and towers, halls and venues, rich with fountains and gardens. Its climate is warm, but not humid, with breezes that continuously stir the air. Its vegetation is as diverse as the species that reside within its walls, filled with color, sound, and fragrance…

Once while in London several years earlier, Amanda had seen an exhibit of Alma-Tadema paintings from the late 19th Century, and the images before her now seemed to echo those paintings of an idyllically classical life. All sea and sky and sun-washed marble, splashed with bright colored flowers. Ajart looked like paradise after months of red rocks and sand.

…No weapons are permitted; loud voices are frowned upon. Millenniums have passed since any type of violence has been seen in its streets. There is a strong presence of the arts in the city, and many of the most well known creative names in the galaxy are represented there. The Ajarti believe that a harmonious atmosphere is important, as is the need to relax, to relieve the pressures that sometimes come with negotiations. In Ti-eer, there is always music in the distance, beauty just around the corner.

The Vulcan presence is strong, as it has been for hundreds of years. The Aian'a'an, the title given to the head of the Eiar Institute, has been granted to a number of Vulcans for the last hundred or so years, and many of the buildings have permanent quarters dedicated to their fluctuating staff. There are also numerous residences for some of the better-known diplomats that use the city as a neutral ground for negotiations among opposing factions. The few remaining Ajarti feel that perhaps the Vulcans are a little too inflexible at times, not taking time to enjoy the pleasures of tranquility. There is a time and place for seriousness and hard work, and a time and a place for laughter and enjoyment. But never the less, the Ajarti feel the Vulcans are a good fit, if not a perfect one. They will tell you, what in life has ever been perfect?

She sighed wistfully at the holos that floated before her, thinking how romantic it all looked, and wondering how little of that romance she would actually experience. Ejecting the disc, she slid in one of the ever-present language tapes and promptly fell asleep.

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The rest of the trip was passed it in somewhat of a fog, which was just as well. Amanda's prior experience with space travel had been limited to her trip to Vulcan, and in much larger vehicles. The idea of spending several hours in space in a twelve-passenger shuttle was well, more than a little unnerving, so it was for the better that she find something to keep her mind off of it, even if it was sleep.

She had quickly gotten used to the constant low hum of the ships engines, and over the hours the slight vibration had become a type of white motion. Settling in the rear of the cabin where the lights had been left low, the only other sounds were those of soft, half heard voices that marked the conversations between Sarek and his staff. Suddenly, a gentle touch on her shoulder, stirred her from a pleasant dream.

"We will land in a few moments, my wife, you will need to awaken."

" I was having the nicest dream," she let a sly smile creep over her face as she looked up at him from the corners of her half-opened eyes. The image of marble palaces, deserted but for the two of them lingered in her mind.

"I am sure you were," her husband commented, taking note of the smile on her face.

Amanda took his hand for a brief moment, "I'll be okay, just give me a minute or two."

She watched Sarek as he made his way to his seat, still smiling contentedly until a sudden jolt brought her attention back to the present and the fact that apparently they were landing.

Left to gather up her tapes and stow them back into her carry-bag, she ended up being the last one to exit, making her way through a now fully dimmed cabin. Still within the shade of the shuttle door, Amanda started step down, the bright sunlight just beyond. A few paces ahead Sarek turned to her-

"Be careful of the steps."

She looked up at her husband and almost lost her footing, holding back an instinctive gasp- there seemed to be something terribly wrong with his eyes as they held hers for a moment. He bent, reaching over, grabbing her elbow to steady her. When he looked back up, his eyes were normal.

Had she just imagined what she had seen? It was almost as if a smoke-filled shadow had passed over them. She wanted to ask, but it was not the time or place as the reception party was clearly waiting for them across the landing pad.

"Xcha'al'at Sarek, we come to serve," The consulate head, the Dor, a tall, almost skeletal woman named P'Adar, came forward with the formal welcome.

After days of listening to the programs, Amanda was starting to pick up bits and pieces of words, almost full sentences at times, but these formalized introductions and responses she had memorized by rote as whole phrases. She still struggled with some of the pronunciations, but there were several days before any real ceremonial responses would be required of her.

"Your service honors us, Dor P'Adar. My aides, Sirdan, T'Auren, Hardeal, R'zaren, and she who is my wife, Cha'al Amanda."

"Most honored ones, we welcome you to Ajart," P'Adar motioned for one of her staff to come forward with the customary pitcher of water and filled one glass at a time, handing them off to the party in order of rank.

"May your time among us be a fruitful one," the saturnine woman, intoned. At that point the formal greetings were over- at least for Amanda today.

"My wife," Sarek turned to her, "There are some matters the Dor P'Adar and I need to discuss. She will have one of her staff take you to the residence at this time. I will be joining you shortly."

He bowed to her and she did the same to him in turn. She watched her husband retreat with the rest of the party, leaving her alone on the pad- or so she thought.

"It is but a short distance to the diplomatic residences, Honored Lady, " a short, round little figure seemed to suddenly appear from the shadows, "I believe that your belongings have already been sent ahead and should be there by the time we arrive."

She had met her first Bedele, which seemed to her a cross between a Munchkin and a four-armed ferret. Dressed in what looked like embassy livery, it was covered in nutmeg-colored fur but for the cream blaze that was drawn across its eyes like a mask accentuating its large round black eyes. And it spoke decent English, one small thing to be thankful for as she followed it across the square.

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Sarek had been to Ajart many times as a child in the company of both his father and grandfather. The permanent apartment, which had been assigned to their family for many years, held fond memories for him, situated as it was above the cliffs of the city, with nothing before it but the sea below and the sky above. It had been his introduction to the worlds beyond Vulcan, his first off-world destination. He found a bit of pleasure in the fact that it would be the first one he would be introducing his young wife to.

By instinct, he found himself bounding the broad main stairway, up to the highest floor, one of the ever-present residence Bedeles struggling behind him, trying valiantly to keep up with its charge.

"Honored One, I beg forgiveness, Honored One, but—"

"But?" He stopped for a moment at the top of the stair waiting for a response, but the short-legged being struggled to catch its breath, and Sarek was impatient to get on with it.

He sighed for a moment then turned toward the large double doors and speaking his name, the doors swung open in welcome.

"Amanda?"

Pacing across the room, he threw open the large doors that opened up to a balcony that spanned the length of the apartment, and when he verified it was empty, he then opened the doors to opposing bedrooms. No wife, nor indeed any luggage in sight. The apartment certainly seemed to be empty. Finally the breathless Bedele made its way into the room.

"Honored One, the residence manager felt that you would be more comfortable on the lower level rooms—"

"I would not. Unless the Aian'a'an has decided to vacate his permanent residence on the Institute's grounds, and we both know this is not so, there should be no reason why we should be housed outside of my family's apartments."

"Please Honored One, I am only doing the honored manager's bidding."

"Show me these 'more comfortable arrangements', then, " he had his suspicions as they made their way down to one of the lower levels.

"This, Honored One, is the room that was designated for your use."

It had a serviceable living area, but as he paced the room, he realized it contained a single bedroom, and within it a single set of luggage.

"And my wife, where would she be?"

"The honored manager felt she would be more comfortable in one of the rooms we have set aside for non-Vulcan guests----"

"I see. Show me."

"Certainly, Honored One."

The short-legged Bedele bustled along the corridors, Sarek following impatiently as they left the main portion of the building and entered the adjoining annex. By the time they reached the rooms in question, he was barely containing his anger as it rolled just beneath the surface. It was a weakness that he sought too hard to control, and he doubtless would require some time in meditation before this was all over.

Amanda opened the door of the small hotel-like room. It was hardly the quality of accommodations that an ambassador's wife required.

"Sarek—"

"Have the staff bring both mine and my wife's bags to the proper apartment."

"But Honored One---"

He stared down at the little being, "You question me?"

"No, Honored One, no. But the honored manager---"

"Will need to answer to me for these actions. She may take this up with me should she have any questions or concerns. I do not take lightly to these little games," he then turned on his heel to face Amanda.

"My wife, attend."

She hurriedly grabbed one of her bags and reached for another.

"Leave it. They will carry it up to the rooms."

"Can I at least take my carry-bag?"

A slight scowl passed over his face, but she grabbed her bag anyway and raced to follow after his long legs as they made their way back to the main building.

"Sarek, I can't keep up with you. Please slow down."

" I beg forgiveness, my wife, here-" he reached out to take the carry-bag off her hands. It was heavy and his eyes widened at its weight, "What-?"

"Important things. Some books, my personal viewer, toiletries, makeup - things I wouldn't want to be without if I lost my luggage, like my toothbrush and a change of underwear…"

"You will not lose your luggage."

"How do you know? What if they take it to the wrong room?"

"They have already taken it to the wrong room. They would not dare to do so again."

"Are they afraid of what you'll do to them if they did?"

The furrow beneath his brows deepened, and his mouth set in a tight line as he glanced at her.

"Don't make faces at me, I'm certainly not afraid of you."

They reached the suite doors to find several of the Bedeles scurrying out, having delivered Sarek's bags. Seeing him they quickly bowed before making a hasty escape.

"They are afraid of you, aren't they?" She laughed.

He turned to look at curiously her for a long moment, suddenly realizing that she had, at some point in the last few moments, diffused his anger. He did not understand quite how it had happened, but it had certainly worked more efficiently and pleasantly than tryads of mediation.

A second group arrived with Amanda's luggage, placing them in the far bedroom, while she followed behind. Then once the delivery was complete, after the ever-present obsequious bows, the Bedeles made their way out the door. Sarek then made sure was firmly closed against any further intrusion.

"Are they gone?" she peered back into the main room

"Yes."

"They really felt I should be impressed by the bathroom in that other room I was in, especially the toilet!" she laughed, "I kept asking where you were and they kept on insisting that I would enjoy that bath far more than your company! But we are together now and that's all that matters,"

She moved toward one set of the large open doors that framed the ornately carven central fireplace, and let out a gasp

"Sarek, this is wonderful!" She went straight to the edge of the balcony, thrusting her upper body out over the edge, "Smell that clean sea air!"

She laughed, and turned toward him as he made his way out into the open, "And the view! It reminds me of those days we spent in the Caribbean…"

She seemed to gaze off beyond him, a dreamy look in her eyes as memory took hold.

"Indeed."

She turned and looked back at him, "There! That got a smile out of you!"

"I do not smile."

"Of course you do. Who do you think you are talking to? Just turn this up a little…" she allowed her fingers to frame the corners of his mouth, turning them up the tiniest bit.

He pulled back from her ministrations, and looked her in the eyes; "You are certainly in a good mood this evening, my wife."

"Mmmm. Either I am giddy from the sea air or maybe I am just happy that I am actually awake and spending a little time alone with my husband-unlike the last few days."

She rested her head against his chest, looking out over the sea, content for the moment as he rested his hands on her slender hips. There were moments in life she would like to freeze and hold forever such as this.

"If you would give a moment to get changed from these traveling clothes, we should go out for our meal. I do not believe either of us has eaten much all day. Preparations will not start in earnest until tomorrow, so I would have some personal time to share this evening…"

"Are you asking me for a date?" She playfully tugged on the pleats of his tunic.

"A date?"

"For dinner?" she tilted her head, to look up at him, biting her lip thoughtfully, as if she were considering the prospect.

"I suppose that I am," he countered, catching those same eyes with his.

"And afterward?"

He pulled back from her a bit, raising his brows and blinked.

She stood on her toes and planted a kiss upon his nose, laughing and then spun away back inside, "I just hope you don't expect me to sleep in that other bedroom alone!"

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you are interested in having this story continue as a WIP, please review. At this point I am trying to decide whether to continue posting as a WIP or to stop and wait until the story is finished to start posting again. Since the last chapter got a lone review, the Muse seems to be fading and I am trying my best to convince her to keep working.

Thanks,

Mary