Family Affairs
Officer Thomas Wyatt and Mara Saavedra headed to the Andorian shoe store. Which happened to be located at Union Square.
"We're here," she announced opening the door without hesitation.
Wyatt followed her, breaking through the busy crowd of people going in and out of the stores. He felt so out of place.
Laikan.
They stopped for a brief moment and stepped in the store. They stood in the entrance, until a young Andorian clerk appeared to greet them with a subtle smile.
"Welcome, how can I help you?" he asked.
"We would like to talk to the manager," Officer Saavedra said returning the gesture.
The clerk bowed his head, "This way."
The store looked a lot smaller from the outside.
Wyatt observed every section of the store while walking their way to the counter, led by the Andorian. Both officers observed the quick exchange of words in Andorian between the two employees. Then, they were greeted by a middle aged woman who was less than enthusiastic to deal with any of them.
"Officer Saavedra and Wyatt. We have a few questions."
"Oh."
She nodded.
"Benoss, go to attend the clients, please."
"As you wish."
The three of them observed the young Andorian clerk walking away from the scene.
"We need some information about one of your clients," Saavedra reiterated when the clerk was out of sight.
"Do you have an order, Officer? I'm afraid I can't disclose any information regarding any of my customers without an order," the woman replied in a cold tone, crossing her arms in a subtle defensive gesture that denoted an obvious lack of disposition to cooperate.
An old Andorian man emerged from the door behind the counter.
His face reflected evident annoyance. Which only became more obvious once Wyatt displayed his badge.
"What's going on here, Sh'kovos?" The man queried in Andorian to the female employee, while eyeing the two human officers in front of them.
"These officers want information about one of our customers, but they—clearly—don't have an order."
"Are you the manager?" Saavedra interjected, attracting the attention of the two Andorians to her.
"No, I'm the owner," the man replied dryly.
"We've a few questions, Mr.… Laikan?" Wyatt added, trying to sound friendly and break the tension the Andorian manager had brought into the conversation.
"Mr. Sh'raoreq. I'm Zyte Sh'raoreq," the old man corrected him. That assumption bothered him more than Wyatt thought it would. "Laikan is a place in Andor, kid."
"My bad."
"You humans never bother to look beyond your noses."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Sh'raoreq."
"No big deal, kid. After thirty-one years off-world I'm accustomed to," the owner of the store said in English, before switching back to a whispering Andorian, only to the manager to hear, "Give Officer, San Francisco and California whatever they want."
"They don't have an order."
"I know, but I don't want these people around driving away the customers. Trust me, we don't want them around for any reason."
The officers watched the man returning from he had emerged a few minutes before. Once they heard the sound of a door being closed, the manager stared at them with seriousness.
"What do you want to know?"
"Do you remember any Vulcan coming here?" Wyatt asked.
"They aren't part of our frequent customers," she responded in a flat, listless tone, before he could even start to describe the victim.
"Do you recognize this?" Saavedra pulled off her PADD and showed her multiple pictures of the expensive shoes of the victim.
The woman examined every picture as the officer shifted to the next and then, she nodded. "Yes, those are part of our exclusive Federation collection."
"I told you."
"It is an exclusive, time limited collection that the brand designed to commemorate the foundation of the United Federation of Planets. It features designs inspired by the four founding planets; Terra, Andoria, Tellar and Vulcan. This specific model you're holding is the Vulcan one."
"Okay, we get it. Very fine shoes."
"I'm gonna be honest. We need some info about who might have bought these."
The manager puckered her lips.
"Plenty of people buy here. Do you expect me to remember every single one of them?" she said in an evident defiant tone, forcing a smile, "Do you remember every single person you have talked to while working?"
"Let's try."
Saavedra exchange a glimpse with Wyatt.
"We're looking for a Vulcan. Male, 1.90, young, in his twenties," Saavedra pushed, for the Andorian's displeasure. "Try to make some memory."
"I don't think I can remember anyone."
"You sure?" Saavedra insisted. "These shoes are clearly from this store and you stated Vulcans don't usually stop by. You should remember a Vulcan."
"I don't, Officer. I'm afraid I can't help you."
"Well, this is a waste of time."
"Thank you for your time," Wyatt thanked her with an uncomfortable smile.
"Come back soon! And bring an order the next time."
Saavedra let out a deep exhalation once they were back on the street.
"That was awful," Officer Wyatt pointed out as disappointed as his partner. Saavedra had insisted too much and the manager was unwilling to cooperate.
"No shit."
"Do you know if there's another store nearby?"
"Yes, I did my research," Wyatt replied. "Those shoes are only sold on Laikan authorized franchises. The closest store from our current location, it's in Anchorage, Alaska."
"Alaska?"
"Yes. Andorians love freezing weather. I guess it reminds them home."
"Sounds fair," the female officer answered with a deep sigh. "We've got nothing."
"Captain Johnson will be so happy to hear that."
"Hey!"
Wyatt stopped and turned to face a young Andorian approaching among the crowd. It was Benoss, the sales clerk, approaching and making his way among the busy crowd.
"Officer, San Francisco."
"Hello."
"You were asking about a Vulcan, right? It's hard to hear from the ties section."
"Yes. Do you remember a Vulcan buying these shoes?" Saavedra showed him the picture and after a few seconds, the stranger nodded in agreement.
She looked back at Wyatt with excitement.
"I don't know if he's the person you're looking for, but it's the only Vulcan that has bought something since I'm working there and I've been working at Laikan for three years," Benoss started. "There's a Suraki Vulcan that occasionally shows up and buys a lot. He bought those shoes a while ago, but I don't remember the exact day."
"Do you know his name?"
"Vorik. His friend called him Vorik twice when he was there."
"Any last name?"
Benoss shook his head.
"Unfortunately, no. He always pays on cash, but I took a picture of him," he said and extracted his phone from his pocket. "Do you wanna see?"
"Yeah. Of course."
It took Wyatt less than a few seconds to confirm that it was the same person.
The Vulcan was wearing a similar robe to the one he was found. Although, the first time he had seen him was after being a considerable amount of time under the water, Wyatt was certain it was the same individual.
The form of his ears was very particular and a recognizable physical trait.
"You can take a picture of the screen if you want," the young Andorian man suggested with a subtle smirk on his lips.
"Thanks."
"Why did you take a picture of him?"
"I was ranting to a friend the last time he came over. We were making fun of him."
"What do you know about him?"
"He's always alone, but the last time he came along with a friend."
"A friend?"
"I guess. The friend was a little younger, I think, because of his attitude. Even though, they look like the same age, but you never know with Vulcans. Also, he bought him a really expensive pair of shoes," the clerk explained. "It was the Terran model of The Federation collection. He spent around 13,700 Federation credits in one sitting that day."
"Do you know who the other guy was?
The Andorian shrugged, nonchalantly.
"I don't know. He was here once and he was nice, to be honest. As nice as a Vulcan can be, of course."
"Why would you help us?"
"Because he's… what you humans call an 'asshole' to service employees like me. I'd be more than glad to ruin his day or his week."
"Oh, okay. Thank you. You've been very helpful."
"You should never assume that no one speaks your language. Even customer service employees of an illogical and inferior species like me," the sales clerk said and disappeared in the crowd, back to the store.
"We have a name and a picture. We just need to figure out who the hell killed him."
Saavedra exhaled and then added, "If our guy could gather all that resentment on a sales clerk he met a few times… Anyone could've killed him."
"Perhaps. Look like he was very lovely."
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
T'Mirek had taken the time to charge the phone that she found in Velekh's apartment. It was clear in her mind that the device didn't belong to her friend. Because it was very expensive, and Velekh was always reluctant to engage in the indulgence of acquiring luxury items.
'It is illogical', he had said once, when looking at the TV in her apartment one morning while Varith did breakfast in the kitchen. 'Nobody needs such overpriced devices.'
'Consumerism,' she had answered with a shrug.
She spent most of the day looking the phone charging in the wall, although she had work to do.
It felt like an eternity.
When the animated battery on the black screen was fully illuminated in a bright green color, she disconnected the phone. Her eyes examined the device, before trying to turn it on after a brief moment of hesitation.
The colorful logo of the manufacturer company popped up on the screen. Then, a keyboard with Vulcan characters appeared over the picture of the urban view of a city she didn't recognize, but was unmistakably Vulcan.
Introduce password.
She tried common combinations of numbers, but was unsuccessful.
She would need help with that, and standing in the middle of a store wasn't an option. She had no proof that the phone was hers. Also, she didn't want to spend her day trying to convince a total stranger she was an idiot who had forgotten the password of her own phone.
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
"Hi, Robert," T'Mirek said once Velekh's neighbor opened the door.
"Do I know you?" The human asked with a clear expression of confusion, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm T'Mirek, Velekh's friend. Don't you remember me?"
"Oh, yeah. Sure," he replied, after stopping to observe her. "Uh, what do you want?"
"Hum. I need some help with… my phone. Velekh mentioned that you're good with technological stuff and… I forgot the password… my password. Silly me," T'Mirek said, chuckling with a tense smile. "Can you help me to unlock it, please? I don't wanna stand on the middle of a store explaining to a stranger that I forgot the password of my own phone and look like an idiot."
"Okay," Robert agreed and moved aside, opening the door. "Wanna come in?"
"Yeah. Thank you."
She stepped inside the apartment with reluctance. All the apartments of the building were exactly the same, but Robert had managed to make his place a lot smaller than it actually was by accumulating a lot of things.
The walls were covered in disordered clippings and pictures, just like Velekh's apartment. She could notice that a few of them were pictures that he surely had taken himself, because it differed a lot from the professional ones depicting places.
"How's Cat?" She queried, with her eyes attached to the only picture where the person seemed to look directly at the camera.
It was the image of a young Vulcan man standing in front of a luxurious-looking clothing store.
"He's good. Thanks for paying for the cat food," Robert answered from the kitchen, while pouring water in two glasses.
"No problem."
He placed the water on the small coffee table and turned off the old fashioned TV playing an Andorian show.
"Can I see your phone?"
"Oh, yes. Sure," T'Mirek answered handling the phone to him.
"Have you found Velekh? I miss him, to be honest."
"So do I," she answered, taking a seat on the sofa in the middle of the living room. "But we haven't got any updates on the case. Detective Wallace said he would call us."
"They're just a bunch of useless pricks who get paid to drink bitter coffee and play around pretending they're working."
"Have you heard of him? I know you guys are kind of close."
"Yep, we are. Velekh and I share a special interest on old technology. Nowadays everything, it's so… shiny and unnecessarily stylized," he said, gesturing the phone she had brought. "It's all about looks over functionality. They'd rather sell you a very appealing phone which you'll need to replace in six months."
"Certainly."
She sighed.
"Can I ask you a question, Robert?" T'Mirek prompted, while she observed the human holding the phone in his hands.
"Go ahead. I don't mind."
"Hum…I noticed that Velekh was… is…" She rasped, trying to word the question as innocuous as possible to not cause offense. "I noticed he has things on his wall and, I don't want to come across as rude or anything, but I noticed that you have a similar one your wall."
"You mean that?"
"Yes."
"It's a theory."
"A theory?" she repeated.
Robert eyed the clipping on the wall, absorbed by the pictures and then, looked away.
"I'm not a paranoid if that's what you're thinking. I know these things are always perceived as the product of insanity. You know… People always think that clippings and pictures without context on the wall means that you're going crazy and you're out of touch with the reality surrounding you."
"No, I… I didn't mean to insinuate that," she replied, "I'm just trying to understand Velekh. I… uh…"
Robert seemed to meditate for a moment when he finally spoke, "You wouldn't understand."
"What do you mean?"
"Velekh was woke," Robert said without hesitation, looking directly at her eyes.
She could notice how confident was in his own words, as someone who's stating an irrefutable fact.
"What do you mean by 'woke'?"
"He knew things. I know that you and the other guy believe that he's delusional and mental, but I can assure that he's not."
"He told you about-"
"I saw them myself way before meeting any of you. No one believed me until Velekh," he cut her off. "Earth is a planet in conflict. So is Vulcan, but nobody wants to accept it. How you all can sleep knowing that those crazy extremists are strutting around the Federation?"
"Don't mean to offend you, but I'm Vulcan and I know how a logic extremist looks and…"
"Do you think they will just come and say "Hi, I'm a logic extremist and I despise your existence'? No, of course they won't."
"That would be very stupid."
"Exactly."
T'Mirek sighed and drank the water at once, placing the empty glass on the table.
"You both need to stop babying him," Robert said in a quiet voice, concentrating on the phone. "Your boyfriend came over here like if he were looking for his ten-year-old son who had run away from home after an argument. Velekh's not a kid, he'll be fine wherever he is."
Varith had told her what Robert had said about Velekh the first time he visited the apartment. He had assured that the human had told him that Velekh was scared for some reason, but now he seemed to have a different attitude towards the entire situation.
"He has been lost for over a month," she let him know.
The lack of worry on that fact was astonishing.
"Did he ever told you what he was doing while he was gone?"
"No."
"Of course he didn't."
"He was in his apartment," she assured.
"Did you assume it or he told you that?"
T'Mirek stayed quiet.
She had assumed it. Actually, they had assumed almost everything about the escapades, by taking into consideration a few things Velekh had said after those episodes of silence.
That last statement was completely different from what he had already said to Varith. The tone had changed a lot since the last time Varith had spoken with him. T'Mirek wanted to question Robert further, but she knew that she had pushed him enough and she required his help with the phone.
"Here you go. It's done."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
She headed towards the door when Robert said, "Don't go to the store. They'll know right away."
"Excuse me?" She turned to face him.
"If you don't wanna get caught, you shouldn't go to the store."
"I don't get it."
"That phone clearly isn't yours."
"Uh… No, I'm just silly and have a very bad memory. Not every Vulcan has eidetic memory… that's all."
Robert nodded, processing her words.
She swallowed, standing awkwardly in the door frame.
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
"Logic advocate Balev is 'alive and recovering' assures second in command," said the alien anchorwoman on the screen and changed the channel once again.
Everything on the Vulcan programming catalogue was beyond boring and watching the news only to hear the awful state of the galaxy while working wasn't the most appealing of ideas.
He finally chose the Terran Nature channel, which was equally boring, but with a lot less discouraging content.
The lights of the room grew less intense and flickered.
Scott looked up out of instinct, noticing how the energy seemed to be struggling to remain and keep the lights of the room on. Surely, it was a consequence due to the high amount of energy required to maintain the temperature, lights and all kinds of function of the hotel to adjust to off-worlders who had a low tolerance to the heat of the Vulcan summer.
With a heavy sight, Scott clicked a random key to bring back to life the screen of his computer.
He had finished drafting the responses he was assigned to and he needed to proofread them. The minimalistic logo of the cloud service appeared on his screen and then, then displayed all the files and documents he had stored there.
He clicked the most recent one.
At the very end, there was a tiny blue line under the final word. He narrowed his eyes and laughed when he noticed that, just after the full stop was located a Vulcan punctuation symbol floating there without a motive.
Last edit was made five hours ago by Scott Langdon.
He obviously didn't edit the file.
He had taken a very well deserved break from the work and had spent the day at the bar, talking with that Andorian man from the elevator. So there was zero chance he had opened the file during the day.
Also, if he wished to write in Vulcan, he needed to switch the keyboard manually because he had English by default.
Details
General Info
Size 22KB
Location Drafts
Modified 5:43PM, Jul 31
Created 3:25 PM, Jul 18
He observed the hour, confirming that he couldn't be the one who modified the file.
Immediately, went to the main page and clicked on the details of one of the replies Varek had assured where 'deficient'.
Details
General Info
Size 39KB
Location Drafts
Modified 2:33 PM, Jul 7
Created 9:22 PM, Jul 3
My phone, he thought.
The device was still lost and that was the only way someone could access his files. He had the cloud account opened there and he had forgotten to close it.
It made sense.
That's why the files were poorly written when he opened them on his computer. He supposed that Varek had accessed through his phone and made modifications.
It sounded very stupid.
Did he ever think that he would simply check the details? Varek should think that he was a really stupid human and he wouldn't notice.
No, it was absurd. Varek was a Vulcan follower of Surak. He was supposed to manage his life and performance based on pure logic and sabotaging the work of a co-worker lacked of logic in every single aspect. It wasn't justified by any means, which raised doubts.
Varek was rude and perhaps, a little biased against humans, but willingly put effort in such disloyal move was a whole different thing beyond the expectable—and tolerable to a certain extend—dislike Varek could have gathered against him.
He put aside the doubts.
Who else could be then?
Varek had been around and inside his room, with plenty of opportunities to steal his phone. Also, he had been hostile towards him from the very beginning.
Closing the account from his laptop would alert Varek.
So he didn't.
Scott was determined to expose him. That would damage Varek's curriculum for ever, but he had started everything without provocation.
However, he needed solid evidence and, if Varek hadn't stopped to consider him in the slightest, then he had no obligation to extend any kind of consideration while gathering evidence.
If he wanted to play dirty, then so could he.
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
The garden of the house was his favorite part of the property.
The beautiful view of the urbanized neighborhood mixed with the colorful flora was appealing to say the least.
He had very pleasant memories of his older brother Silek reading short passages of The Teachings of Surak in High Vulcan and trying to teach him how to meditate when he was too young to even understand why he had to repress his emotions.
Sarek stopped to observe the sehlat house that once belonged to I-Chaya.
He felt a wave of sadness to remember that he wasn't there to say farewell to his childhood pet. Which was an illogical sentiment, since his very presence wouldn't have made any difference to the outcome.
I-Chaya would have died anyway and he should accept it as such.
He continued to dive into the garden, following the line of the stone paved walkway that led to an area where they often share meals together as a family. When the circumstances allowed it and his parents weren't busy.
At the end of the path, his immediate family was waiting for his arrival on the same square shaped table where they had shared so many meals together through his life.
"Sarek, welcome."
The soft, yet serious intonation of his mother made him feel unease.
"Ko-mekh, sa-mekh… Silek."
"Take a seat, sa-kai."
Sarek eyed the empty chair at the table and complied.
His eyes examined the decoration on the table and then, to all the presents.
"I am honored to receive this invitation to your house."
"Your house as well," Skon corrected him. "You are still a member of this family and part of the clan, sa-fu."
The sound of the paid employees of the house serving the dishes of Vulcan food while placing the cutlery according to the customs of their culture. Vulcan mollusk sautéed in Rhombolian butter for his father, gespar sweetened balkra for his mother, small pieces of Vulcan kap filled with dyrk cream and topped with mun sauce for Silek and a steamy bowl of plomeek soup for him.
Sarek's eyes turned to the plomeek soup in front of him and the sole smell of the clear broth made him hungry for the first time in days. Probably, offer him that specific dish was some sort of gesture to express their will to make amends, because that dish was always his favorite since he was very young.
However, comparing his plain and simple soup to the elaborate and complex dishes of Vulcan cuisine that his parents and Silek had been served made him remember that stage of his life when every single person would treat him with condescendence because of his age.
As a child, Sarek often wanted to grab objects, walk around and venture to taste the adult food that his brother and parents consumed.
"I am not fond of partaking in pointless, idle talk. Therefore, honoring our ways, I will tell you why I asked your father to invite you today."
Sarek gave a nod and T'Kin eyed her older son and husband before continue her speech, "We are concerned for your safety, Sarek."
Silek and Skon stayed quiet.
"A lot has transpired since your… bonding with Ms. Grayson," T'kin said, while Sarek took a spoonful of the broth, with the eyes on the liquid.
"Indeed."
"Son," Skon interceded to direct Sarek's attention to his mother.
"Yes, father?"
When he looked up, he realized that all the broth in the bowl, which was not exactly small, was already gone.
"As your mother had stated, we are concerned for your safety and the safety of your Ms. Grayson."
That uncharacteristic emptiness of the house was abnormal. Sarek was sure it was on purpose once he stopped to think about it and he should have known when he stepped in.
He blinked, realizing that the invitation was an intervention.
All of a sudden, he became conscious of the way they had elected to arrange the positions on the table. T'Kin, Skon and Silek were seated on one side of the table, as the united front they were, and they had left an empty chair placed on the opposite side.
That arrangement resembled the way that the High Council presented themselves during an audience. Always in a position of unity and superiority, which had all the intention to intimidate.
Sarek admitted to himself that it was working and he felt insecure and weak.
"Why is that?" Sarek ventured with caution.
"It is evident. The logic extremists are displeased by your election of bondmate. They disagree, but we all are aware that this… tendency of Vulcans taking human mates it is not a novelty," Skon started.
The only noise around the garden was the one from the afternoon wind brush the flora and the sound of the neighborhood in the distance.
Sarek observed his father thinking for an endless moment his words, until he spoke again, "However, the displeasure comes by taking into consideration that you are an active representative of the government of our planet and, overall, a representative of our species as a whole."
He swallowed and wiped his hands on his robe.
His palms were sweating out of nervousness.
Whatever Sarek could say wouldn't make any difference. His family already had a conclusion and he was beginning to think that they didn't intend to debate. Instead, they were hoping he would accept their word and opinion as the only reasonable take on the matter.
"My private life does not interfere with my capacity to fulfill my duties as an ambassador. It is illogical to focus on an aspect of my personal life that has no impact on my professional performance."
"Logical," Silek interjected and despite how neutral was the tone of his voice, there was a subtle hint of condescendence. "I would agree with your point of view if you were holding a different position. Unfortunately, as an ambassador, it is expected of you to represent the values of our people."
"I do agree with your brother's assessment, but there are additional motives to be concerned for your physical integrity. Aside from the public reaction and the implications of being a representative to the exterior."
"You are aware we do not approve your choice of mate," T'Kin added with a flat tone.
"I am well aware."
He would never forget the disappointment on the face of his mother upon hearing the announcement. T'kin had asked him if he was attempting to be humorous and pointed out that if that was the case, he was being unsuccessful.
That exchange had hurt Sarek more than he ever thought someone could hurt him.
"Our disagreement is not merely based on prejudice, as you concluded."
"The last time we spoke you, you left and chose to not listen what we—your family—had to say about the situation."
"I did listen, but I am an adult and I am capable of taking decisions on my own."
"You have proven otherwise, Sarek," Silek said and Sarek felt the that old sensation of discomfort and chest tightness he hadn't experienced since he was an uncontrolled, emotional child.
Anger.
"I did not."
Silek's eyes focused on the wedding ring in his hand.
"Marrying that human female was clearly an attempt to defy our parents. I know you, brother. You were very displeased by the prospect of leaving the Vulcan Science Academy and abandon your ambitions to pursue a scientific career to enroll into the Diplomatic School and, you expressed an even greater reject towards the idea of being assigned to Earth," Silek stated with a calm demeanor. "It was your wish to inflict the same displeasure by acting illogically."
The anger turned into burning rage.
He wanted to voice the fact that Silek had chosen to marry a different woman that his intended bondmate. An action frequently frowned upon and considered as an act of rebelliousness within the traditional environment they had grown up.
Thus, Silek was as far from being the perfect role model as much as he was.
"An incorrect assumption, based on pure speculation," Sarek replied, struggling to remain stoic. "I did not agree to be assigned to Earth, but deciding to bond with Amanda it is not related in any way to that situation."
"You may say that, but your course of action states the opposite."
"Correlation does not imply causation, Silek," Sarek countered, restraining his irritation.
The slightest gesture would prove his family right.
"I concur. Nevertheless, your pattern of behavior and deficient impulse control has led you to take illogical decisions time and time again," Silek said with such calm expression that make Sarek even more difficult to remain indifferent. "You do not take any advice no matter how reasonable it is. You manage yourself based on your emotions and instincts."
Sarek narrowed his eyes and Silek arched an eyebrow that felt like a slap in the face.
"I do not, but it seems like— regardless of what I can say—you are determined to remain attached to what you have already concluded."
Sarek drank the water in his glass to lessen the lump in his throat.
"What will you do when your Time comes?" T'kin queried with coldness, taking a sip of her tinted beverage.
Sarek did not answer the question.
The pon farr was a taboo topic and, he didn't wish to discuss that matter with his mother, father or brother, let alone the three of them at the same time.
"Did you ever stop to think about it?" She insisted without changing her tone to a more severe one.
"Are you that irresponsible and immature to endanger her life on a whim of yours?" Skon questioned and Sarek could hear the disappointment in every syllable of that sentence. "We raised you to be better than that, sa-fu."
"She will not endure you during the pon farr."
"I am capable of controlling myself," he countered in a slightly trembling voice.
He breathed.
Being that close to the almost empty soup bowl was sickening to him, but not as unsettling as facing the disappointment and disgust from his parents towards him.
"You are young. You have not gone through the worst of it yet."
"We have tolerated your immature and illogical behavior for a long time."
"I am not a child, mother."
"If you expect to be treated as an adult, you may act as one before. Your demeanor has been unacceptable and you should be aware that plenty of people are disowned for less than what you have done."
Sarek put aside the bowl.
He had no intention to consume he remains of the soup and he felt like doing would be degrading in some way.
"I-"
"Let mother finish," Silek cut Sarek off.
Sarek looked eyes with his brother, as if he were expecting some sort of sympathy from him.
"You are endangering both of your lives. Yours by risking yourself to rely on a mate who does not comprehend the Vulcan nature and hers, by exposing her to the possibility of physical and mental damage during your time."
Sarek feigned to get up from his place to leave.
"Sit down," Skon commanded, and Sarek did as he was told.
"You need to end this tantrum now."
"We have provided you with plenty of time to reflect on your own and allow you to make what is correct and logical."
"Correct and logical," Sarek echoed.
"You shall dissolve your union and return home, where we will find you a suitable mate."
"No," he responded at once, shaking his head. "I will not."
Suddenly, he was hyper aware of himself.
It was like being trapped in a very vivid and distressing dream. Anything of his surrounding felt real, but the emotions running through his entire being were a reminder that he was wide awake.
"We will not force you to return," T'kin indicated, lowering her eyes and focusing on the bowl of plomeek.
Her seriousness had quickly turned into coldness and apparent indifference.
It was a façade.
Sarek had seen her act like that the only time he ever saw his mother feeling emotional, right after the perish of her sister.
"There is a standard you need to hold yourself as a member of this family. The same standard we, as Vulcans followers of Surak, are required to hold ourselves."
The anger faded away. That emotion was promptly replaced by an oppressive feeling of apprehension.
"You have two options and you shall make an election. Here and now," Skon stated with severity.
It took Sarek all his emotional self-control to not reflect his feelings towards the situation and the prospect of such petition. He truly loved Amanda and it was his wish to remain together for the rest of her lifetime, which he thought it was an innocuous decision and a matter only concerning to himself.
"I cannot," Sarek mused, only to get ignored.
"You can stay and, by staying, you agree to dissolve your… union with the human and accept the mate we elect to you or you can leave," Skon paused, to focus his sight on Silek and T'kin for validation. When the Vulcan woman nodded, he continued, "If you decide to leave today, this will be the last time you will be allowed within the limits of our family and clan's property."
Sarek froze in his chair. He had been making an effort to no display any emotion during the exchange, but now he felt unable to think or speak.
He wondered if they were really asking him that question, but once again, their severe faces reaffirmed that it was happening.
He was disgusted and regretted eating almost the entire bowl of soup.
"What is your choice?"
Stay or leave?
Amanda or his family?
Special shout out to StarryEyes2000. This chapter is dedicated to you! Thank you so much for sticking with me! I truly appreciate your kindness :)
It's been a while, but I'm back.
I just learned the difference between lie down and lay down. Again, I fixed a few things and took a little bit of my free time to learn more about this language and how it works. It's really important to me make this story as readable as possible. I'll be constantly modifying the previous chapters, so the next time you come across the story, some mistakes will be already fixed!
I'll be updating monthly, but If is possible I'll do it as soon as possible.
This is a breaking point. There's another one left before the events on the summary take place. Fortunately, it won't take much time since a lot has been already established.
Thank you so much for reading and stay safe!