Chapter 12
The USS Stargazer
Stardate 2163.7
"Spock, are you completely sure about this?" Asked McCoy for the umpteenth time. Spock stood packing, in his quarters. They were traditionally adorned with both Earth and Vulcan relics.
On one wall hung a painting, which McCoy could not comprehend. It was bright and garish and caused McCoy to step away before he got a headache from looking at it too much. The ship was nearing Starbase Fifteen. The final dock of the Stargazer's latest captain before he left for the last and final time.
"Yes doctor. I am quite sure." McCoy sighed and started pacing the Vulcan's quarters. The Vulcan continued to concentrate on his packing. Carefully he folded the fabrics and placed them into the cases.
"Hey," McCoy exclaimed. Suddenly he grabbed Spock's shoulder. The Vulcan paused as if slightly stunned. "I know what this is all about. You've been all down and depressed for months and months. Your not behaving as a true Vulcan would Spock? I can see through you like a sieve."
"Can you?" Said Spock quietly.
"The mission about the energy ribbon thing. It was your god damn private tribute to Jim. You were really pleased to have got chosen for the assignment because at least you'd discover what the hell that thing was which killed him. And you knew about the mission before you were briefed, but you didn't tell me why?"
"Starfleet orders did not permit me to disclose the information."
"Even to me?"
"Even you."
"Then Starfleet told you to cancel the trip so you went all grouchy. Your fuming Spock. I know you are underneath, but so am I and the rest of the crew." Spock said nothing. "Admit it." Why did McCoy have such a cruel way of extracting information out of his Vulcan friend?
"What would you have me say doctor?"
"Admit it, you do feel defeated." Spock turned around not facing McCoy. It has hit a raw nerve, thought the doctor. The Vulcan reached down to the table and picked up an old volume Kirk had given him. He flicked though the thin delicate pages.
"That's it isn't it," said McCoy. "Because you failed, you're blaming yourself. Why? Jim would know that you would have done the best you could. This is the best. The energy ribbon is now out of our hands. It's some one else's turn. Perhaps they'll have some other insights, some other ideas."
There was silence. "There was nothing you could have done Spock." McCoy shook his head continuously. "I understand now. I never thought I'd see it."
"I should have attended the mission with Jim then maybe..." Spock's voice trailed off into silence.
"That's illogical Spock. What's done is done it can't be reversed. There is no point in thinking like that. Look, Jim wouldn't want you brooding over this for weeks and months even years on end. This is ridiculous. Let Jim go. Let him go." McCoy paused then his voice softened. "Are you sure this is what you really want. Have you really had enough of us?"
"YES. I have told you many times before." The words almost came out as if the Vulcan was loosing his temper. Spock rarely lost that. McCoy seemed to some how get in his path. "Excuse me doctor McCoy." He almost barged past him. McCoy threw up his hands exasperated.
"What the hell, it's no point talking to you like this your not going to tell me anything." The physician nearly stormed out, but something made him stop. He realised that Spock had taken Jim's death worse than he ever imagined and he was too stubborn to admit it, least of all to himself.
"I suggest you calm yourself doctor," he said coldly.
"Don't kid yourself Spock." McCoy knew Spock better than any one else. He had to get through this alone. Perhaps going home was the best thing he could possibly do.
"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I always blow things out of proportion. I'm just human, but I just wish that you would talk to me sometimes." Spock frowned. "Not as your doctor, but as your friend. It helps. Look, I've brought along a little something." McCoy held up a rather stout bottle of the something. "Perhaps it might help. Jim was always fond of our…" McCoy's voice trailed off.
"What is this for doctor?"
"We never had the chance of a good get together. Since this is your last night aboard ship." Spock permitted himself to nod. Once.
"If it is what you want."
"Come on Spock." McCoy tried to sound cheerful. "Lighten up. Lets try and make it like the good ol' days. Spock sighed.
"Very well," he said finally.
"Do you have those crystal glasses I gave you last Christmas?"
"I believe they are around some place." Spock opened a cupboard and lifted out a pair of elaborate crystal glasses. He placed the silver tray down on his empty desk. McCoy popped off the cork from his bottle and poured Spock and himself an ample amount of Saurian brandy.
Spock hesitantly took the glass to his mouth and sipped. The liquid burned like fire as it went down. He noticed an amused expression playing across McCoy's features. The doctor held up the glass. "To the future my friend... and to Jim Kirk." Spock nodded in agreement as he watched McCoy down the liquid in one fell swoop. The doctor smacked his lips and grinned. Spock himself managed one more delicate sip of the brandy.
Vulcan
Stardate 2234.6
It was a simmering red-hot day when T'Sharl landed on Vulcan. It seemed strangely familiar yet different. She hadn't walked on these lands for exactly six point three seven years. Despite her uncertainty at first. All was clear now. She had made the correct decision to return home. It was her goal to study and become an archaeologist.
She now travelled across a small corner of the S'hielk desert. Surprisingly it wasn't as hot as she remembered it. Perhaps it was one of the rare moments just before a rainstorm. She had yet to experience one here on Vulcan. Perhaps this would be her first encounter.
Apparently when it did rain which was somewhat rare on Vulcan's scorching ground, the water never even had so much of a chance to touch the sand the moment a droplet was formed. It would evaporate the second it appeared in the thin dry air or even if rain did touch the earth, which was so dry. The dry ashy ground could not properly absorb the liquid.
Of cause there was an ocean on the world obviously otherwise life wouldn't exist. Water was such a rarity on the planet that it was necessary to protect what remained. As was all plant life no matter how humble.
Sadly few trees remained that were indigenous to Vulcan. Those, which did, were over a thousand years old were highly prized. Special means where established to keep them safe.
In the far distance T'Sharl could make out the distinctive shape of the ancient distinct volcano Mount Selaya. Housed at the pinnacle was the ancient temple and ascending was worn battered steps carved into the sheer rock millennia ago.
Sarek waited patently near the air car. He looks different, thought the girl as she hiked across the desert's sandy floor. The Vulcan was swathed in a dark cloak and he looked severe and forbidding.
"Live long and prosper T'Sharl," he said in an almost pleasant voice, which marginally broke the Vulcan's harsh appearance. T'Sharl nodded and displayed the traditional hand sign which only moments ago he had offered.
"Peace and long life Ambassador Sarek," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. He looks older, she realised. After all it had been six years. Not once had she seen him at that time.
"This way." She followed Sarek up and into the car. They sat at the back of the small craft. Sarek's young aid was seated in the pilot's seat at the front. Sarek adjusted his long heavy robes. "I assume you are keeping in good health," he said in a matter of fact tone. He had not commented on her appearance.
"Yes, sir." She nodded. Gradually the small craft descended. A small trail of dust and sand arose behind it. Sarek neatly folded his hands on his lap. T'Sharl took an opportunity to glance out of the window. Everything looked peaceful and still.
Not once did she catch sight of a living creature grazing off the land. Not even a deadly Le'Matra. The land appeared lifeless except for a few numbers of tough and hardy desert plants. Some of these where as deadly as the reptilian Le'Matra.
One of which appeared quite harmless when dormant. It was advised not to get to close to it. It would suddenly catch the victim by surprise and twist its thorny branches around its prey and crush it to a pulp before devouring mercilessly.
It was well established that any one who saw this plant should walk at least three metres around the carious shrubbery to avoid their metre long claw like stems from attacking.
"Perhaps you could take the opportunity to contact Spock," said Sarek suddenly. T'Sharl found it difficult to hide the sudden surprise which his words gave. Finally her face became passive again and she nodded. Something caught her gaze.
The creature circled up in the sky with its mate and they both descended. They made soft almost cooing sounds as they swayed and swooped. Then T'Sharl could make out a smaller bird, obviously the young, gliding happily between its parents. She almost smiled. Those birds were so rare to see.
Gradually the city came into sight. The roofs of building could be distinguished. Shikahr was a large city, situated in the southern continent of the planet. It was where she had been born and spent her early years growing up in. It was also the home of Captain Spock.
The air car landed just outside Sarek's villa. They stepped out into the cool evening air. T'Sharl looked around her. Everything looked familiar. The streets, the houses, and gardens.
The driver climbed out of the air car and took T'Sharl's luggage. He made his way up the path towards the house and entered. She wondered if Amanda's garden still existed. Perhaps she would permit herself the luxury to see later.
T'Sharl followed Sarek up the path and into the house. It was a largish building. Red in colour, but plain. Vulcans did not pride themselves on things of value as humans did, especially with the younger ones.
Humans had fascinated her she found them intriguing and wondered how her father had ever coped living aboard a starship completely full of them. At first she had found them an annoyance, but later an amusement if she could permit herself to think so.
In front of a large painting stood a shining black antique mini grand piano. It had been Amanda's. The instrument had fascinated T'Sharl as a young child because she had never seen anything like it. Many evenings she had sat on a cushion on the floor and listened to her grand mother playing. Sarek's deep yet softly spoken voice interrupted her train of thought. "You may stay in Spock's room."
The aid stepped into the room clasping his hands behind his back. "Everything is ready," he said.
"Thank you," replied the elder man.
The aid left to go about his duties.
T'Sharl caught sight of the familiar green carpeted stairs with pale cream dashes of colour. It had been another of Amanda's human touches.
Many Vulcan households however rarely used carpeting except for an occasional rug here or there. She remembered Amanda saying that an absence of a carpet made the house appear cold and empty. T'Sharl had wondered where Amanda had got that idea from. The rooms were far from cold, or empty. T'Sharl had considered them to be rather cluttered with 'unnecessary' human necessities compared to other people's houses.
"May I be excused," she said.
"Yes of course." Sarek nodded. "Dinner will be shortly though."
She left to explore. Everything seemed to be as it was, yet it seemed to lack the human zest she had known when Amanda was alive. Now everything was in its place, in logical order.
The girl climbed the steps toward upstairs. Her room was still Spock's like Sarek had said. She had used it before and made it her own. On the bed was her favourite duvet cover Amanda had bought her years before.
A smile touched the corner of her mouth. Why would a Vulcan bother with such idiosyncrasy? Suddenly she heard a female voice. Turing round she saw a short, square plumpish middle age human woman dressed in a sombre green and gold tunic and trousers.
"Martha," she said almost shouting. "You are still here." It was a statement not a question. Martha Headroy had been working at Sarek's estate for nineteen years. She was like a second mother to her. The lady grinned. She appeared virtually the same. Perhaps she had put on a little weight and developed a few strands of silver in her mousy brown hair, but she had hardly changed.
She and her husband Barry had emigrated to Vulcan twenty-two years ago after their son decided to study natural science. The last T'Sharl had heard of him, he had moved to Sayl, a remote plain in the northern parts on Vulcan to study the R'ythen hawk. "It is a gratification to see you again," she said after she had regained her composure.
Martha nodded. "And you little one." She laughed. "But, you're no longer little. Your a lovely young lady." She shook her head amazed. "My oh my six years is a long time. Was your journey pleasant?"
"It was adequate."
"You look just like your mother," said Martha. She rubbed her hands on the tunic she wore. "Well then, I'll see you a little later at dinner?"
"Of course," said T'Sharl.
"Excellent." She smiled and rubbed her hands. "See you then." Still grinning from ear to ear Martha hurried out of the room.
Stepping out side into the garden, which still remained just as beautiful as she remembered it. T'Sharl sat down under the willow tree. Her favourite spot. The flowers were in bloom and the sweet scent of perfume was in the air.
T'Sharl noticed the sky darkening and evening setting in. In the corner just in front of the rear wall stood a fountain, bubbling cool water, which flowed from an Earth lion's mouth. Another of Amanda's little whims, she thought.
T'Sharl remembered the time when the fountain was plumbed into the main water supply. There had been pipes everywhere much to Sarek's annoyance.
After a moment of refection she got to her feet and went into the house. Tomorrow would be a big day, for T'Sharl would enrol at the Science Academy.
