Yes I'm Fluent. Why do you Ask?

Amada materialized on the group transport platform with the first half of the Community as they prepared to begin the customs procedures and return to their families. Sarek had provided explicit instructions for her, and she stood quietly rereading them for the fifth time, worried she would forget something. Until his family was properly notified, it was unadvisable to bring her through the immigration channels as his wife. Therefore, she would enter as a Federation citizen conducting business and taking leave on Vulcan. The records would be updated as tradition was followed.

"T'Sai," T'Lyra said quietly. "Are you prepared?"

"Yes, I think so. I just wish we could be more direct about it. I feel like I am being deceptive, even though I'm not."

"We can be, however it will severely complicate issues for the Ambassador," she handed Amanda a chip. "This is our communication code, address, and travel information to our residence should you find yourself in need of assistance in any way. We do not anticipate you will encounter insurmountable difficulty, but it is logical for you to have secondary recourse. If you require, we can come to you."

Amanda looked into the eyes of her friend and advocate, and smiled. "Thank you for this. I will keep it close."

"Immigration begins here," she pointed. "Contact us in any instance of need," she said, before turning and joining Soran through the exit portal for Vulcan citizenry.

Amanda looked at the desk manned by a burly Vulcan male observing her with a scrutinizing gaze. Holding her head high, she approached him with as much self-confidence as she could muster. She stood before him, and looked up at his height.

He spoke in heavily accented Standard. "Identification and entry documents."

Amanda gambled a response in his native language might help things a bit. Remembering to add just a touch of a rolled 'r', she spoke as she handed him the information chip.

"Amanda Wyatt Grayson iwimish."

He looked at her directly as his right eyebrow betrayed his control.

Mr. Burly continued. "Stariben Vuhlkansu, ha?" The Humans he'd encountered never spoke Vulcan. Ever.

She looked him dead in the eye and responded. "Nam-tor ek'ariben nash-veh. Ha." Clarifying her ability to converse fluently caused her adrenaline to flow, and she worked to maintain a controlled affect.

"Sauyaing. Ha'yigal?" He inquired about her vocation, struck by the Human accent.

Apparently? I'll show you 'apparently', buddy. Ok, calm yourself, Grayson. How do say it all: Vulcan linguist and Director of Development of the Vulcan Language Module for the Universal Translation Project? That should set him back a question or two…

"Nam-tor gen-lis-talsu t'Vuhlkansu, heh khartausu t'storaya na'Vuhlkansu natel t'ek'mesuhk-stari-vel ar'tu."

All activity stammered to a halt as those around them turned to look at her. The average visitor spoke essentially no Vulcan. She'd just schooled Mr. Burly.

Multiple pairs of intensely observant eyes settled upon her. She decided that if she wanted to make some friends, she needed to be a friend, and quickly. Perhaps a demonstration was in order.

"Li-fal t'el'mish, ha?" she offered.

He nodded silently, his curiosity encouraged beyond his ability to control it. She carefully and slowly removed the translator and set it on the counter, and spoke again. "Stariben Eingelsu, ha?"

He nodded as several came closer to observe.

"My name is Amanda Wyatt Grayson."

Amanda Wyatt Grayson iwimish

More came to watch.

"This is the universal translator."

Tor ek'mesuhk-stari-vel

A quiet murmur moved through the group.

Mr. Burly looked skeptical. "Weht rihag'es, nemaiyo."

Greater difficulty, please…

She thought for a moment, and smiled, choosing to kill them with kindness.

"Surak?"

Surak, ha?...

They looked at her in silence and waited.

"Reach out to others courteously, and accept their reaching in the same way, with careful hands. Offer them peace, and you will have peace. We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of us."

Pulau na'vathular k'nuhk. Nam-tor pulaya s'au k'kaes – h'elrular tun-bosh. Nufau au sochya yi dungi ma tu sochya. Ma etek natyam teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum'ton…

Mr. Burly observed the device for a moment, looked at her carefully and then activated the clearance code necessary for her to proceed through. "Wehtsuri. Welcome to Vulcan, O'gen-lis-talsu Grayson. You are granted indefinite leave, at your preference. Dif-tor heh smusma."

Damned right that thing's extraordinary… she thought as she put the translator away. Retrieving her chip from him, she nodded respectfully.

"Live long, and prosper, Osu."

As she walked out into the main congregational area, she returned her focus to the PADD Sarek had given her, and then found the next step on the thorough list he'd prepared. Per his request, she sent a notification to him that she'd successfully navigated customs, unaware that she was being observed.

He watched her intensely as she managed the communication. He could see the physical attraction his older brother had to her: with blue eyes and long, black hair she'd clearly styled in a traditional, Vulcan manner. She'd received education from someone on the inside.

What struck him more importantly was that the delegation had seen her as worthy of the highly prized traditional attire. People passing her noticed it as well, commenting privately about it. Sarek would have had no say in the matter – therefore her character had been deemed highly acceptable by the entire Community. He approached her quietly.

"Ko-kai? I am Sarek's younger brother, Silek. I am meant to help you from the terminus to our family's home."

She was taken aback by the congenial manner he carried. He was very Vulcan, but understood the value of cordial human pleasantries. She liked him already.

"Sa-kai, I am Amanda. It's a pleasure to meet you."

As he observed her, he saw she appeared under physical stress. "Are you unwell?"

"The air is thin, I may need help," she responded as her skin began to take on a twinge of blue.

"Of course, this way," he said, signaling an emergency officer, who took one look at her, recognizing the cyanosis, and opened a medical kit as Silek helped her to sit.

"Pla-wadi-nosh," he said, running a med-scan. "Storau nuh'neik-esh-tukh svi'khaf ish-veh."

Cyanosis? I'm developing hypoxia? Well that didn't take long…

The officer prepared a hypospray.

"Sha'es, heh bolau wak t'nash-veh?" She asked, uncertain of how long she would have to take it.

"Stariben Eingelsu, T'Sai," he answered quickly. "Do not concern yourself with linguistic pursuits now. I speak Standard adequately," he said with a heavy, but easily understood accent, applying the hypo. "Your oxygen saturation diminished dangerously," the officer replied, "to 91.3%. Your physical health requires 98.5-100%."

He prepped five ampules for her and gave Silek the kit. "This is a Tri-Ox compound, T'Sai. It will enhance your body's ability to filter atmospheric oxygen by a factor of three. These will be enough for you to secure a medical appointment within 36 hours. Do not delay in this. You may return the device at any medical center afterward."

She was already returning to an appropriately human pink, and breathing no longer left her feeling as if a weight was on her chest. "Kaf-yet il rai, nam-tor itar-bosh nash-veh," she paused not knowing his name, only wishing to express her gratitude.

"Kaf-yet-talsu Sekal, T'Sai. I come to serve," he was interrupted by the communicator issuing assignment for assistance elsewhere in the terminus. "Peace and long life."

"Your Vuhlkansu is refined," Silek said.

His brother's choice of wife was compelling.