"There is no logic in keeping him alive."
"If we were only to consider events in the near term, I might agree with you," came the reply. "However, we must think more broadly."
Sarek's ears detected the muffled voices discussing him on the other side of the door but he couldn't summon the energy to care that they debated his demise. His father and brother were gone. A gross abuse of science and medicine had framed him for their deaths.
Even if he did survive and escape this ordeal, he would live out the rest of his life as a fugitive or a prisoner struggling to prove his innocence despite overwhelming evidence. And who would choose to associate with a terrorist who'd murdered most of his immediate family? Any friends remaining to him on Vulcan would abandon him, Amanda would scorn him, and even his own mother would probably despise him for what she believed he'd done.
When Sarek had first fled Vulcan following the scandal with T'Rea, he'd felt alone and adrift but his family had been intact. Now the anguish and isolation was more than he could bear. He would welcome death if they would only offer it. He pondered shouting at them to kill him but faltered. Such a drastic thing, once uttered, could not be unsaid. Did he really want to die, or was his fixation with ending his pain a byproduct of temporary despair?
His heart raced. How sobering it was to think he could probably summon death with only a few words. He took a slow breath and tried to collect his logical faculties. Only then did he realize the conversation on the other side of the door hadn't ceased just because he'd momentarily abandoned his senses.
"Whatever we do, we cannot keep him here," insisted a deep voice. "Terran authorities already suspect he remains in the city."
"It is too dangerous to move him now," replied a second man with a distinctly Shi'Kahran accent.
"The danger will only increase after today," argued the first man with the deep voice.
"There is no logic in stating plain facts," said the Shi'Kaharan.
"I state them only because it appears you are ignoring them," the deep voice rebutted. "I fear breaking the encryption on the Terran transporter disruptors is beyond T'Lira's capabilities. The planet's local star will rise soon. If we are unable to access the transporters before then, we should at least consider moving him by more traditional means while we still have cover of darkness."
"Your concerns are noted but unnecessary. He will remain here, alive, until I decide it is prudent to move him. Are there any updates on Vedek's whereabouts?"
The deep voice hesitated before responding, "He has not been apprehended by any conventional authorities. It is likely T'Pol has him."
"And the human woman he defiles himself with? What about her?"
"The last sighting of Amanda Grayson was near the hospital. We are currently watching her dormitory and Sarek's residence, but she has also disappeared. It is possible T'Pol has retrieved her as well."
"And T'Rama?"
"My contacts on Vulcan have searched broadly, but she too has disappeared."
Sarek's heart soared and stuttered. They didn't have Amanda. But they were looking for her. And his mother. He pulled so hard against his restraints that blood began to ooze from his wrists and trickle down the lengths of his fingers and onto the floor.
There was such a long period of silence and Sarek began to wonder if he was drifting out of consciousness or whether they'd walked away when a third person spoke. The voice was female and very familiar. He struggled so hard to match the woman's voice to a memory that he barely registered what she said.
"We must at least consider disposing of him and the woman if we are unable to move them to San Francisco prior to the signing of the trade agreement. There is logic in what Skel says. Your plan was always uniquely ambitious. Now that Vedek has betrayed us and Sarek's mate and mother have fled, any chance of success—"
"This is a pivotal moment and perhaps our best opportunity to turn the tide in our favor," growled the Shi'Kahran.
"If you will excuse me," interjected the woman's voice, "Your discussion grows redundant. The daily service will begin soon and I must go upstairs to attend the supplicants."
He heard the clicking of heels on the hard floor and the volume of the other voices began to fade. The last thing he made out before their words became indistinguishable was, "You fear our cause will stagnate with an overabundance of caution. I disagree, but I will not defy you. Even still, the human woman is a liability who serves no purpose…"
Sarek frowned and set the man's last words aside to consider the woman. He thought to himself for several more moments before recognition set in. The woman's voice belonged to the priestess at the temple in Vulcan Village, a theory that became more solid as he reflected upon her words.
She was attending to supplicants at a daily service. There was a lot of information concealed in that simple statement. She was a priestess at a temple in Vulcan Village and if she was preparing to greet parishioners upstairs, then that meant he was being held at the temple. Moreover, most conventional temples held daily service at dawn.
The grief, physical pain, and concern for Amanda's safety coalesced into a renewed purpose. Based on what he'd heard, more hung in the balance than just his, Amanda's, and Mara's lives. There would be time to process his losses and emotional strife at a later time, provided he survived his captivity.
He began to saw back and forth against the restraints biting into his wrists. The hard plastic was so tight he would have to remove an extensive amount of the flesh from at least one hand to escape, if not cut off one hand entirely. He felt resolved enough in his determination to free himself that he would find a way to manage it if necessary. For several minutes he steeled himself against the pain and ignored the horrible sensation of his shredded flesh and oozing blood before he stopped. This was a very poor plan.
A well-disciplined mind could overcome extreme agony, but no amount of logic training would prevent unconsciousness from excessive blood loss. Moreover, he could cut his wrists down to the bone but it would take time and cutting through bone with hard plastic was another matter entirely.
There had to be another way. He thought of Silek and their strained telepathic discussion. He swatted away the sadness at the thought of his brother and considered anyone else he might communicate with this way. He had never practiced a similar mental connection with his parents. Besides, his father was also dead and his mother
He briefly considered his former lover, T'Rea, but dismissed her just as quickly. For as many hours as they'd spent melding and exploring each other's minds, he'd spent just as many hours meditating to sever the bond between them when she'd chosen to marry her betrothed. And she was far away. The ability to hold a true telepathic conversation required an established and proximity.
Amanda. He was closer to her than anyone else alive and she was, conversely, close by. At least to his knowledge. She was also human. The idea that he'd disregarded as futile hours before now seemed viable, if for no other reason than there was no other obvious option.
There was no logic in dwelling on the audacity of his plan or its poor chances of it succeeding. Instead, he summoned the last of his fading strength, conjured Amanda in his mind's eye, and began to murmur, "My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…"
Amanda slowly plopped onto the chaise lounge, steepled her fingers, and leaned forward. Did this woman T'Pol really appreciate how crazy she sounded? Was she joking? Amanda's eyes darted from one person to the next. Aside from Petra, who looked just as mystified as she felt, there were four pairs of serious, dark Vulcan eyes gazing back at her.
"You know Sarek is the telepathic one, not me? Right?"
"Yes," T'Pol answered. "But because you have formed a deep mental connection with Sarek through extended periods of recent bonding, it may be possible for you to communicate with him."
Amanda buried her face in her hands to hide the crimson tint that was surely creeping over her cheeks. "But…how? I'm not a biologist or doctor, but I'm pretty sure there are a lot of differences between human and Vulcan brains. I don't know any humans who are telepathic. You and I can't be wired the same way."
"With a sufficiently strong bond, it doesn't necessarily matter if you possess the thick midbrain region responsible for Vulcan telepathy."
T'Rama took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. "My sons are—my sons were very close. They telepathically communicated with each other with regular frequency throughout their adolescence and into early adulthood. I know that Sarek's mind in particular is quite strong."
Amanda swallowed. She couldn't bring herself to look at the woman. "But mine isn't."
"That really doesn't matter as much as you may think," T'Pol insisted. "I know from my own experience with a human partner. There have also been numerous studies of Vulcans who regained telepathic abilities following traumatic injuries or strokes despite the region responsible for telepathy being damaged beyond repair. The brain, any brain, of any species, is remarkably plastic and capable of adaptation when necessary."
"If that's the case then why can't I punch Vedek with my mind?" Amanda retorted. She said it loud enough that he might hear her from the next room.
T'Pol's lips thinned. "I don't know of any species capable of telekinesis. Furthermore, what I am asking you to attempt is something you have already done. The link between you and Sarek already exists. Until now it has been one-way, from Sarek to you. I am merely asking you to explore the possibility of communicating from the other direction."
"I just don't see how that can even be possible."
T'Pol slid into the armchair to Amanda's left. "I learned of a fascinating phenomenon several years ago that researchers call blindsight. It happens in many sentient species when damage occurs to the brain's visual cortex. The person goes blind, not because their eyes have stopped working, but because the part of their brain that translates visual stimuli no longer functions. However, these individuals are able to unconsciously respond to a visual stimulus without consciously perceiving it. They can navigate around obstacles in a room even though they can't describe the objects. They can understand simple facial expressions. This is because parts of the brain responsible for things such as spatial reasoning and emotion remain intact and are still unconsciously processing what the eyes see."
Amanda narrowed her eyes, doing her best to cast the most dubious expression she could muster.
T'Pol continued, "The point is, you may not have a functioning telepathic cortex, but other parts of your brain might be familiar enough with telepathic communication by now to do it subconsciously."
"I'll reiterate that I'm not a neuroscientist, but I thought a key difference between conscious and subconscious thought is that one is…well, conscious. I can't control what my subconscious brain can do."
"Through intensive meditation, it is possible to guide your subconscious to an extent," T'Rama countered, sliding closer to Amanda. When she was about thirty centimeters away, she faltered. She leaned closer to Amanda and sniffed gently. Her expression changed though it was so quick and subtle Amanda struggled to describe it. Sarek's mother had gone from being patient and open to being something that bordered on surprised.
Did Amanda smell that bad? Sure, it had been a few days since she'd showered but she hadn't been jogging in the midday summer heat or anything. She wriggled in her seat and murmured, "So how do we do this?"
They spent the next several hours instructing Amanda in the finer points of Vulcan meditation, urging her to clear her mind and focus on an inner point to the exclusion of everything else. They tried dimming the lights, brightening the lights, lighting candles, burning fragrant herbs, and chanting. Amanda tried standing, sitting, kneeling, laying prostrate on a mat, and lying flat on her back on the sofa. Eyes open and eyes closed. Hands clasps and unclasped. The harder she tried the harder it became, as though any technique or trick could make her relax enough to forget that time was running out. Sarek's life hung in the balance and depended on her ability to do this and she was failing.
Several times she pleaded with them to contrive another plan. Petra occasionally wandered in to check on her progress, which only made Amanda feel more hopeless and frustrated. At one point she almost believed she managed to empty her mind but a chair creaked in the next room and shattered her concentration. When her eyes snapped open, she couldn't tell whether she had been meditating or falling asleep.
"Again," T'Pol urged.
"I need a break," Amanda moaned. She licked her lips and rose to her feet from the meditation mat in the middle of Soval's living room. Smoke from T'Rama's incense hung thick in the air and without waiting for anyone's approval, she excused herself to the next room under the pretense of getting water. The two Vulcan women began arguing in hushed tones but Amanda was too tired and exasperated to care that she was being discussed like a child who was performing poorly at school.
She found Vedek still tied to the chair and Petra and Soval speaking quietly at the table. Soval canted his head, almost inviting Amanda to speak her frustrations aloud.
"How's it going?" Petra asked cautiously.
"I don't think I can do this," Amanda muttered. "T'Pol acts like it's so easy, but—"
"No one can do anything, until they can," Soval mused.
Amanda scowled and half fell into the seat next to Petra. "I've never even tried to meditate," she confessed. "Sarek offered to show me how once, but I—"
Soval nodded thoughtfully. "Humans are lazy and generally incapable of the patience and dedication necessary to restrain their active minds and emotional impulses." He either didn't notice Petra and Amanda's surly looks or didn't care.
"If that's true then there's no point in me doing this, is there?" Amanda asked.
"I didn't say that," Soval replied.
"Humans are more than you give them credit for," Vedek said quietly from the corner.
Soval rolled his eyes. "I lived and worked among humans when your parents were learning to walk and sprouting teeth. Just because you have formed an emotional attachment to one human doesn't mean you understand them all."
Amanda blinked and turned to gaze at the morose Vulcan restrained at the other end of the table. "But Vedek is attached to Mara. And if the people who took Sarek have her too, why doesn't Vedek try to communicate with Mara?"
"He tried," Soval and Petra said in unison.
Vedek sighed bitterly. "My telepathic abilities were never all that good and Mara's brain is…somewhat scattered."
"Your telepathic abilities can't be worse than mine," Amanda insisted.
"Have you considered the use of an object to center yourself?" Soval suggested.
Amanda raised her eyebrows. Soval's eyes came to rest on the pendant at her throat.
"That amulet hanging from your neck—Sarek gave it to you, correct?"
"How did you know?" she asked, gently touching the vibrant stone.
"I sold it to him," Soval said. The lines of his face bore no hint of emotion, but his eyes shone. "It is an exceptional coincidence it has found its way back here."
"I remember at the barbecue Sarek asked what to get his girlfriend for her birthday," Petra recollected. "I told him jewelry and flowers. He thought it was crazy that humans liked to give the reproductive organs of plants as gifts."
Both women chuckled at the same time, but there was pain in Amanda's amusement. She thought of the little favinit plant at Sarek's apartment. What if that plant and this necklace were all she had left of Sarek?
"Yes, well, some individuals find grasping a familiar object helps focus their minds," Soval explained.
"I thought the purpose of your departure was to obtain water," T'Pol chided, appearing in the doorway. "We should resume."
"We should find another way," Amanda pleaded. "I don't think I can do this."
"I know this seems difficult," T'Pol began.
"It's impossible."
"If you would only—"
Amanda crossed her arms over the table and buried her face in them.
"Do stop bullying the girl with the frail human mind," Soval interrupted.
"I want to be offended by that but I'm too tired and disappointed in myself to object," she groaned, not bothering to lift her head from the cradle of her arms.
Soval murmured a tiny, hardly audible sound that may have been chortle. "I am impressed by her logic and self-awareness."
"I acknowledge we are asking you to accomplish something that seems impossible. And you may still fail," T'Pol explained. "However, in my experience, humans often derive comfort from the measures they took to avoid failure, even if failure does occur."
"I won't forgive myself if I don't try my hardest? Is that what you're saying?" Amanda muttered, finally lifting her head. Her body felt slow and sluggish and only then did she realize she hadn't properly slept in days.
"Precisely."
Amanda leaned on the table and slowly stood. "Can I try doing it without an audience this time? I think you and T'Rama have already given me all the pointers I can stand. I need to do this on my own and figure out what works for me."
"You may use my study, if you prefer," Soval said, motioning to a door at the back of the kitchen.
Amanda studied T'Pol's face. Seeing no objection, she started toward the study. She prepared to shut the door behind her when T'Pol entered and did it for her. Amanda began to protest, but T'Pol held up a hand.
"I will leave you alone, I merely came to offer a small piece of advice. And encouragement."
Amanda sighed, surprised she began to sway slightly from exhaustion.
"I was married for a brief time to a human," T'Pol explained. "I am aware what the human mind is capable of and I must agree with Vedek. Your species is capable of more than we give you credit for. More than you give yourselves credit for."
"You keep saying that but I keep failing."
"Everyone fails until they succeed," T'Pol countered. "Before we were married, my husband was gravely wounded in an explosion. He barely survived and spent the remaining ten years of his life maimed and in agony. We found that telepathic communication was easiest for him. It took him a while to master but he did manage it."
"I'm sorry for your husband," Amanda replied. And she meant it. "But I don't think my brain is exactly the right brain for this job. I have dyslexia. I don't know if you know what that is, but it's a kind of learning disability. Things get jumbled up for me. It's part of why I needed Sarek's tutoring with physics. My brain doesn't work like other people's brains."
T'Pol's face contorted into a look of genuine surprise, even by Vulcan standards. "Dyslexia. My husband Trip had the same condition. Vulcans call it L'tak Terai. My people pity those who suffer from it because it can make logical and ordered thinking quite difficult. It is rare among Vulcans, but some of our greatest artists and creators have had this condition, or are believed to have had it. While it does make logic more difficult for Vulcans, I often wondered whether that affliction made it easier for Trip to communicate telepathically, after a time."
"It's hard to imagine something I've worked so hard to learn to live with suddenly being a benefit," Amanda sighed.
T'Pol nodded. "I will leave you now. And I will leave you with a human expression my husband was quite fond of. Good luck."
Amanda offered a weak smile and watched as she shut the door behind her. She folded herself into a small armchair by the window, staring at the faint glow of the sky beyond. It was still dark, but sunrise loomed.
She closed her eyes, gripped her vokaya amulet, and began to hum gently. It was relaxing, but Amanda still couldn't be sure of the difference between relaxing and meditating. Both T'Pol and T'Rama had insisted they were very different things, but the explanations they'd offered seemed like creative semantics.
Minutes ticked by and she found herself slipping into a space between the waking world and a land of sleep. It was difficult to tell whether she was dreaming, because her mind seemed aware and able to direct her thoughts, but when she considered opening her eyes to prove to herself she was really awake, the idea seemed so unpalatable that she just left them closed.
"My thoughts to your thoughts…My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…"
When she thought about it years later, she never could decide if she'd actually heard the words or imagined them, whether they began as an inner monologue in her own mind as a lucid dream or whether she actually sensed Sarek communicating with her. The concept happened upon her so gradually that by the time she became aware of it, she was already grappling with the keen sense that Sarek was nearby and at a temple.
"Sarek?" she whispered, directing her brain toward the thought of him.
"Do you remember the temple in Vulcan Village?" came the reply. It felt more like an idea than conscious words, but it was solid and definitely not a figment of her imagination.
"I do!" she shouted aloud, jumping from the chair. "Sarek?"
Only then did she realize the very tenuous link between them had evaporated and she was on her feet panting with excitement.
The door to Soval's study opened to reveal Petra and T'Pol staring at her with questioning eyes.
"I think- I think I did it," Amanda stammered. "It was only for a second. I think he's at a temple. The one in Vulcan Village. We're in Vulcan Village right now, right? It's down the street."
The women exchanged glances and Soval appeared behind them, followed by T'Rama.
"You're sure?" Petra asked.
"Of course not!" Amanda howled. "But it's the only thing I have to go on. We should check it out, at least. Right?"
"It is only a short distance from here," Soval admitted.
Petra rubbed her temples in obvious frustration. "True, but the fact that it's in Vulcan Village is…not ideal. We don't know who we can trust but I suspect there are a lot of people in this neighborhood sympathetic to these logic terrorists. They're already looking for Amanda, Vedek, and T'Rama, and they're probably keeping an eye on T'Pol too. If any of you even step foot outside this apartment, you're going to attract attention. It's a miracle no one's even come sniffing around here yet. We need a plan."
"You're a federation agent," Amanda retorted. "Can't you call someone?"
"And say what? Sarek, the guy everyone thinks is a terrorist, just reached out to his girlfriend via telepathy and gave her a vague inkling he's being held against his will in a temple to Surak on the North American continent? Even the friendliest judge is going to want more than that to issue a search warrant."
"But Amanda is right," T'Pol countered. "You are the only one present with any legal authority to investigate or make any arrests."
"I'm out on a limb here and kind of on my own," Petra grumbled. "It would be incredibly reckless to go to that temple without any kind of backup or support."
"Fascinating," Soval murmured. "I always thought recklessness was an endearing and reliable hallmark of your species."
The next ten minutes were filled with deliberations and arguments about who should stay and who should go, how they should get there and what they would do once they arrived. Ultimately, it ended with everyone quickly filing into Petra's car with the darkly tinted windows.
Petra would surveil the area on foot and see if she could get close enough to the temple without arousing too much suspicion and even if she were noticed, she had her badge to justify her presence there. T'Pol would go to keep watch from the vehicle and alert her via communicator if she detected any threat. T'Rama insisted on going because she argued two sets of eyes on watch was better than one, which prompted Amanda to demand a spot in the car because three was better than two. Soval came because he didn't want the responsibility of tending to Vedek by himself, which meant Vedek was also hauled along because he could not be reasonably trusted to keep himself captive in the absence of everyone else.
Her stomach bubbled with nervous excitement as the car circled the block with the temple. They parked behind the building, concealed behind a garbage reclaimator and Petra got out. "Stay here and keep your eyes open."
When she shut the car door, everyone glanced at each other for a brief moment and then turned their attention to the outside world. It was barely bright enough outside for it to be called dawn but there were already people out and about. It didn't escape Amanda's notice that most of the passersby were Vulcan and formally dressed, with their hair coifed similarly to Sarek and Soval's.
"It is daybreak," T'Pol mused, glancing out the car's rear window. "I suspect most of these people are visiting the temple for the daily service."
"I attend on occasion," Soval admitted. "Though I am not as devout as I once was."
"If you have attended daily service at this temple before, your presence there this morning might not be considered unusual," T'Rama said, turning to acknowledge Soval.
"I had been thinking that myself," Soval replied. "Though I saw no need to mention it to Agent Asfour, who seems quite emotional and impulsive, even by human standards."
T'Pol and T'Rama nodded and replied simultaneously, "Logical."
He quietly exited the vehicle and slipped behind a small throng of Vulcans on the sidewalk leading to the temple's entrance. Amanda leaned her head against the window and tried to ignore the knots in her stomach. Her mind was so wrapped around trying to calm down that she barely registered a small, inconspicuous door at the rear of the building opening.
Another vehicle pulled into the rear lot twenty meters away from where they were parked and a lone figure emerged from the temple's back door.
"That's the man from the park," Amanda blurted. "That's him."
T'Rama and T'Pol's heads snapped to attention. "The one you identified to the agents who questioned you in the hospital?" T'Pol asked.
"No, the other one," Amanda explained.
"His name is Senval," Vedek replied, his face darkening. "He's the leader of the cell I was supposed to be communicating with."
Amanda's hand began reaching for the door on instinct. The rational part of her brain pleaded with her to stay put but her heart screamed for her to confront this man and demand he return Sarek to her.
T'Pol grabbed the door handle to stop her and seemed prepared to lecture Amanda about patience and prudence and not jumping to conclusions but Vedek beat her to it. "Amanda, stop. He's a dangerous guy. He will kill you and not think twice about it."
Amanda turned to face Vedek but her train of thought was interrupted by T'Rama throwing open the opposite door and leaping from the car with the grace and deliberate poise of a predator in pursuit of injured prey. Amanda couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard the woman growl, "That man was my husband's aide."
T'Pol hissed at her to stop but T'Rama was a woman with a purpose. Things seemed to be happening in slow motion. She glided toward the man with tactical precision. The man Vedek had identified as Senval seemed so focused on the other car in the parking lot that he didn't notice T'Rama until she was within striking distance. Then she struck. She hit him right in the face with the heel of her palm. There was a flash of green blood and their limbs began moving in a rapid blur. Amanda blinked, certain she was imagining this almost comical display of violence from an otherwise placid and matronly Vulcan woman.
T'Pol tore from the backseat with no further hesitation. Vedek swore a number of curses and fought against his restraints. Amanda's mind began to stutter. The events unfolding were all too much to process but through the fog of chaos, she felt a very strange tickling at the back of her mind.
"The door, Amanda. The door."
"Sarek?" she cried aloud. Had he managed to communicate with her again? "Sarek, where are you?"
No reply came, but she knew. As if on instinct, Amanda flung the car door open and sprinted toward the open back door of the temple. Sarek was in there. She didn't know how she knew but she did. She floated past the carnage of T'Rama mercilessly beating the Vulcan man and T'Pol confronting the driver of the other vehicle who had emerged from the car to enter the fray.
She was dimly aware of Vedek calling out to her and struggling to free himself from the backseat with his hands tied behind him. She raced through the door and down a dozen stairs, skipping most of them. She landed hard on her left ankle and hobbled forward into a dark, damp hallway and spied a door halfway down the corridor. She didn't really remember running to it, only that when she managed to pry it open, she found Sarek tied to a chair.
She gasped. He looked awful. He was pale and slumped in such a way that for a brief moment she thought he was dead.
"Amanda?" he croaked, lifting his chin.
"I'm here," she breathed, trying to sound reassuring as she stumbled toward him on shaking legs, her left ankle screaming in protest.
"You shouldn't be in here," Sarek gasped. "They'll find you."
"Amanda?" Mara's voice was weak. "Is that you?"
"Mara?" she called.
Only then did Amanda stop to take stock of the room. It was a janitor's closet with a sink on the floor in the corner. The only light in the room came from the open door she stood in. Mara's voice emanated from a dark corner near the back and she began babbling and begging Amanda to help them.
"Amanda, go get help," Sarek urged, looking her straight in the eyes and speaking loudly to be heard over Mara's hysterics.
She ignored his demand and studied him. He was tied to a chair. She kneeled next to him to investigate the restraints binding his hands. It was a single hard plastic band looped around both wrists and even in the dim light she could see he'd practically sawed halfway through his wrists to try to escape. His hands were covered in blood and it had dripped onto the floor.
"Amanda," he barked. "Go."
"Shut up, I'm not leaving you," she snapped, looking around for anything to cut him free. She began groping at nearby shelves, trying to locate anything sharp. There was nothing besides some cleaning chemicals and a few mops and sponges. She picked up a mop and slammed the stick end into one of the tiles near the sink, shattering the porcelain into dozens of sharp edges. She picked up the largest piece and began to saw at the plastic restraints holding Sarek in place.
"Amanda, please," he pleaded. "Go alert the authorities, no one knows—"
"They killed your dad and brother, Sarek. They think you did it. I can't—"
"I didn't," he interrupted, his voice strangely calm. "I didn't do it."
"I know."
"They'll kill you if they find you here," he said. "They have no reason to keep you alive."
"I'm not leaving without you," she said, clenching her jaw. Before she could say another word, the plastic band locking his hands snapped and she twisted at the waist to work on freeing his feet.
"Amanda!" Sarek shouted. He writhed and leaned forward, almost as if attempting to stand despite his feet being tied to the bottom of the chair.
She was about to chastise him and tell him to hold still but something struck her in the right side of the face, so hard she almost imagined her eye had exploded. She fell onto her hands and knees in shock and didn't have time to take a breath before another hard blow crashed into her ribs, knocking the residual air from her lungs.
There was more yelling, a bright flash of light, and another flash of blinding pain. The last thing she remembered before slipping into darkness was Sarek calling her name.