Whispers From Strangers
The Terran Times
People / Socials
What Amanda Grayson Should Learn from Zoria Zh'Ryllirh?
Written by Leslie Westbrook
PHOTO. Amanda Grayson (left) and Zoria Zh'ryllirh (right) at the Voyage Inn.
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
Andorian Designer Plahsjs Has Been Seen at the Galaxy Inn with Socialité Ksghs
Andoria— The lovely Zoria Zh'ryllirh and Ambassador Christopher Laurie had been a major trending topic. Everyone loves the beautiful couple they make. Classy, educated, intelligent, well-spoken and independent is how Zoria has proven to be by holding her position as an educator and honoring her new duties with elegance.
The galaxy just loves her!
Unlike Amanda Grayson, Zoria has been seen along Ambassador Laurie on Vulcan during his official meeting with the Andorian Ambassador to Vulcan the last week.
As always, she looks stunning and flawless. It is very clear to the spectator that she's educated and a well versed woman in the ways of the galaxy.
According to official statements, she has served as an active promoter for better diplomatic relationships between Andoria and Earth. This week, she announced on her social media accounts that Andorian universities will be launching a convocation for students interested in internships and an educational exchange program for Terran citizens studying Andorian languages.
[Continue reading this article]
Socials / Vulcan / People
WANTED: Where Is Amanda Grayson?
Written by Alex Wayne
Photo. Ambassador Sarek alone at the Tellarite embassy.
Related news: What Is Ambassador Sarek Really Doing on Vulcan?
Earth— This week, Ambassador Sarek has been seen very publicly on Vulcan. It looks like the Ambassador to Earth has been preoccupied with all this fancy events in his hometown. No one it's surprised to see him out there, shaking hands with high profile personalities. But when we all see those pictures of him all over Shi'kahr attending this lavish parties and social events, surrounded by all these diplomats from every corner of the galaxy along their partners, the only thing I can think about is where is Amanda Grayson? Where is she? Looks like she can't handle a little bit of criticizing without run and hide.
She has indirectly confirmed this as the reason of her disappearance the last week. All her known accounts on social media passed from being private to been deleted without explanation after two ex-classmates of Amanda disclosed to the public that she has taken legal actions in a very blatant attempt of censure.
[Continue reading this article]
The Galaxy Inquirer
Socials / Vulcan / People
Is Amanda Grayson a Wolf in Sheep Clothing?
Written by Sam Davis
Photo. Amanda Grayson, Mia Grant and Samantha Summers on the Terran Languages Institute's yearbook.
Related news: A Vulcan Body Was Found in San Francisco Bay
Earth— A lot has been said about Amanda Grayson since the news went public.
One of her ex-classmates named Samantha Summers, who has identified herself as a former friend of Miss Mia Grant, just talked this week on a public account about what happened after the numerous interviews Grant partook in different news outlets. Which gives us a possible motive behind her silence.
" 1 can't handle ANY critique. She LOVES to be in the spotlight, but as soon as someone voices a contrary opinion to hers, she will try to MANIPULATE you. You CAN'T silence MiaGrant23! Send all the cease and desist orders you want. You can't prevent us to tell the galaxy how MEAN you actually are," wrote Summers, after Grant announced that Amanda Grayson allegedly had sent a cease and desist order trough her legal team the previous week.
Apparently, it is Amanda Grayson the one who has ceased and desisted with being a public figure, because she recently closed all her social media accounts. Honey, you're a public figure! What did you expect? Naturally, when you learn about how she handles the attention, criticism and comments in the most un-classy and childish manner, threatening with legal actions to whoever dares to talk about her, disappointment it's an expectable reaction. Then, it's only logical to ask ourselves if Amanda Grayson is the kind of representation we want out there about Earth and the human race.
That week, the press was having a great time commenting Sarek's first public appearances on Vulcan after their marriage with special emphasis on the fact she wasn't there, standing by his side. While the public was entertained commenting very viciously Sarek's familiar situation on social media. Unfortunately, it never rains but it pours. So, after the wave of articles depicting her as a terrible person for "ditching" Sarek, her ex-classmate had continued to twist the reality and released a public statement about non-existing legal actions Amanda had never taken against her in the first place, despite how much the woman deserved it. Which only brought her more hateful comments and even more unwanted attention, when the storm of strangers judging her was beginning to fade.
Amanda turned on her PADD. It was early in the morning. For some reason, she was expecting Sarek to call her to video chat. Although, she was cognizant that Sarek's schedule was full.
She was trapped in her egregious, but empty house in San Francisco. Alone with the occasional visits of payed employees to help with the cleaning and nothing else. It was impossible to go out and visit anyone on her own, because she didn't want her loved ones being harassed and the few times she dared to go to the grocery store in the search for fresh air and some impersonal social interaction, ended up in unflattering pictures of her on the internet.
Amanda was stressed and too physically exhausted that she had spent a great amount of time sleeping or lying down in her bed without nothing to do aside from eating, bathing and binge-watching every show available. She had finally closed all her social media accounts to stop the messages and comments talking about how mean she supposedly was. Still, Amanda felt unable to not read the ill-intentioned articles about Sarek and herself.
The Terran press was very vocal and judgmental. Amanda missed her job as a school teacher and quitting wasn't exactly her decision, although what media outlets assured about it. She was not leaving everything behind to willingly summit to Sarek as almost every columnist was determined to believe. She continued to work and held her position for nearly two months after the news went public and the whole planet, as well as the galaxy, learned about their marriage.
The leaked pictures of the human ceremony added fuel to the furor.
After almost two endless months of constant harassment at work or in public, Amanda had decided to leave her job for her well-being. Also, for the sake of her mental health. Because no one seemed to be willing to extend the smallest hints of empathy towards her. Not even her own kind. She was portrayed as some sort of petty woman and a cold-hearted gold digger most of the time. The writers with xenophobic approaches towards Sarek were as convinced as the average person that she still wanted something or had second intentions. The snobbish ones would praise Sarek's natural Vulcan 'grace' and would put her down for being naïve or vulgar, uneducated on the appropriate manners and etiquette, and overall, an insufficient representation of the human race. Occasionally, they would remark how much out of her league Sarek was for being the son one of the most important figures of the Vulcan government and make unnecessary comparisons with the Andorian Zoria Zh'Ryllirh, who had recently married the Terran Ambassador to Andoria.
The reality was that Amanda wasn't representing anyone but herself. Also, by marrying Sarek, she wasn't accepting a position in the government, she was signing to spend her lifetime with him.
She looked at her phone.
Sarek had sent a heart emoji.
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
Sarek's eyes fluttered open.
The soup he had elected to eat that afternoon was cooling down in the nightstand next to his bed and he knew that he had spent less time lying in bed than he thought, because the steam was still going up. Lately, he wasn't hungry. The food tasted bland and often, uneatable. His favorite Vulcan dish, Plomeek soup, was disappointing and resembled nothing the flavor Sarek often reminisced of the early days of his childhood. Perhaps, a combination of the inner disappointment he felt of his own people and culture after his wedding, adding the physical impairment he was experimenting the last couple of weeks. The logical course of action would be to search for medical assistance, but he was beginning to think that every symptom he had was a psychosomatic reaction to accumulated stress.
He exhaled and desisted with trying to meditate. It wasn't working after all.
All of a sudden, the lights went off.
"Lights on," he commanded, but the lights didn't go on. "Lights on."
Sarek stood in the darkness, irritated and carefully moved through the room to manually turn the lights on. He pressed the light switch on the wall and the room lit up. He returned to lay on his bed, looking at the Plomeek soup. Forcing the food down his throat wasn't something he felt the energy to spend the next hour doing. The lights went off and Sarek felt instant annoyance.
"Lights on."
No reaction to his voice.
"Lights on," he asked less politely. Again, there was no response and the darkness evolved the room. "Lights on… please."
He closed his eyes, still laying on the fluffy black comforters on the king size bed. He wanted to sleep forever, but he had no mental energy to shut down his loud thoughts. Also, he lacked of concentration to effectively meditate to keep his psyche in check.
The sound of his phone vibrating inside the nightstand drawer made him open the eyes. His heart skipped a bit for a very brief moment when the sound interrupted his messy thread of thoughts.
The device kept ringing, and ringing and ringing.
He was committed to ignore the call, because he didn't wish to speak with anyone. He made a mental note to keep the device turned off in the future and opened the drawer to answer the call, since the caller didn't seem willing to relent.
"Hello?" Sarek said, putting the phone on his ear, still laying on the bed and looking at the ceiling.
"Hello, Sarek," the voice greeted. As during the last time, it was cheerful and too enthusiastic. As if the caller were filled with overwhelming emotions of excitement or even, happiness.
"I shall inform you that this is not my phone," Sarek lied. Despite the initial sense of unsettling nervousness that a voice as emotional as that had caused on Sarek, he was beginning to think that perhaps the caller was only someone trying to bother him. He lost count how many times the embassy number was misused by people with aspirations to be a comedian. Some of them had tried to be deliberately offensive or culturally insensitive. Suddenly, he missed the old man calling every week to let him know the weather forecast in San Francisco, who believed he was calling his son.
He sighed with a tinge of annoyance forming in his chest.
"Lying is illogical… Vulcans don't lie."
"I am not lying," he reiterated.
"Then why did you say this is not your phone? Deny a truthful statement with full knowledge count as lying in every culture. You should know that."
"Who is this?"
"You sound exalted…emotional. I can hear it through the phone."
"Do I know you?" Sarek asked after a long minute of silence and the shaky voice probably didn't go unnoticed. Would be he the man who was at the meeting? His heart started to race and took him a little to convey a bit of inner peace.
"Does it matter? The only thing you should know it's that I'm your friend. I'm on your side," The voice assured with a less enthusiastic tone. Almost sounded like if it was a different person saying that phrase.
"You are so quiet. Are you afraid of something? Yes, you are! Everyone seems to agree on that, but you don't want to see. Vulcans don't want you on their team anymore."
"Pardon?" Sarek repressed the need to reply sharply to that allegation. Implying he was being emotional was, somehow, offensive.
"How many times we would have to tell you?"
"I do not understand."
"Be careful, Ambassador! Be careful!"
Sarek hung up the call and let the phone fall to the red fluffy carpet surrounding the bed area. He turned on the screen and closed his eyes to sleep with the formal voice of the news anchorwoman providing updates of the major current developments of the galaxy playing in the background.
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
T'Mirek had spent years and years along Varith. They had arrived together to Earth and, as the years went by, the past felt less heavy.
Velekh's arrival to earth and in their lives, felt different. He wasn't like any other Vulcan they had helped to leave Vulcan.
Varith had taken too personal the task to make him feel welcome and behaved as if Velekh were the son he never had. He had taught him to do the basic to be able to live the everyday life on Earth. The young Vulcan was fragile and he was scared to leave Vulcan and all that meant. Becoming a V'tosh Ka'tur was difficult, leaving Vulcan after embracing emotions was the natural step and the most reasonable outcome because all of them had been already disowned by their families at that point. T'Mirek knew there was something inherently different with Velekh as the time passed. He was like a naïve puppy who had seen little of what the galaxy had to offer. In her eyes, Velekh had lived a life with no opportunities to grow a wider perspective of what the universe was and, despite being a young adult when he arrived to Earth, he was lost and eager for security. She was aware that, in many ways, Varith felt like it was his duty to protect Velekh the way no one had protected him of the external danger.
In the twenty-three standard years on Earth, no Vulcan they had helped to adapt to the Terran way of life had mentioned the logic extremists until Velekh. Varith had his own personal story with them. Even, he had a few terrifying encounters with them as a result of his not very polite critiques on social media back in the day. Young extremist students of the University of Shi'kahr had not found very pleasant to be called other than logic advocates and the took action. Of course, he barely survived to the physical assault and with the apathy of his planet to what it was a very blatant and violent attempt of censure, along his increasing discontent with the way of living, he left for good.
Both of them.
That night, they stayed in Velekh's apartment after the discussion. Varith slept on the sofa, surrounded by the vestiges of a man's paranoia caused by a life of trauma and emotional repression. She got up at two in the morning and observed the messy clipping on the wall, while Varith seemed to sleep deeply.
What it was supposed to mean? What did Velekh intend by collecting that information? Varith could think she was dismissive out of denialism, but she had tried to understand Velekh's machinations with all the seriousness she could. Sadly, she never got to the point the young Vulcan talked about what triggered him. He was scared for sure, Varith agreed on that part with her, but none them had found out exactly why he was preoccupied by the logic extremists.
Varith had his story with them, but Velekh was even more reluctant to speak about anything related to his past with anyone and she never dared to ask.
"We shouldn't move those papers," Varith said.
T'Mirek turned to see him. He was waking up and the orange streaks of light breaking through the windows let her know that it was starting a new day. Another day without hearing or knowing anything about their dear friend.
"It means something for him."
"I wasn't thinking about doing it, anyways."
The silence filled the room. Actually, none of them have thought what to do with Velekh's belongings yet. Varith had paid the rent of the apartment in advance and she had refused to allow a stranger to go and clean the place. It just felt wrong and she was certain that Velekh wouldn't appreciate someone prying on his personal effects more than his friends already had.
"Did Detective Wallace call you?
"No, but he said he would."
"Do you think that-"
"No, he would never," Varith cut her off.
He had thought about that possibility, but nor he or T'Mirek had dared to voice it.
"He was doing well," assured Varith in a quiet voice.
T'Mirek's eyes looked around the room covered in Velekh's materialized paranoia, "Did he?"
Varith exhaled and she felt frustrated by that action. They were getting into a vicious circle of going to work, spending the late afternoons at Velekh's apartment and being generally tense by the entire situation.
"I prefer to keep an optimistic approach."
"Did you find Velekh's PADD? Detective Wallace told me that it could be very useful to find him."
"No. It's not here."
"I'll search on his desk at work tomorrow. I don't think we have checked there."
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
Varek's eyes followed his human co-worker thrashing around the bed and once again, walking to the closet with clear signs of irritation.
Humans were illogical and unnecessarily complicated creatures in his eyes, and Scott Langdon was no exception. Twenty-six minutes had passed since Scott decided he wanted to search his phone with no success.
"You already searched in your closet," Varek said flatly with his eyes in the screen of his PADD. Once again, Varek was inside his room because the sole idea of going to the Vulcan's room was unsettling.
"I know," the human replied, but continued to insist on searching inside the messy closet.
"Insisting will not make your device appear," Varek stated as if was obvious.
Scott exhaled with irritation. He had lost his phone. Their stay on Vulcan was as busy as being working at the embassy on Earth.
"Well, I need my phone and I'm sure it's here… somewhere in this room," Scott answered, shrugging and feeling stupid.
"Better organization habits would have prevented this."
"It is illogical to ramble on what could have been," Scott replied searching under his bed.
"Indeed," the Vulcan concurred, returning his gaze to the PADD.
With an audible sigh the human came out from under the bed.
"I give up. Probably I lost it ages ago and I didn't even notice until now."
The human sat on his bed defeated and unlocked his PADD, facing Varek.
The sooner they complied with the work, the better and he would be free to search by his own the device without Varek's excruciating eyes on him. Also, they had a lot of work ahead since Ambassador Sarek was extremely busy attending all kinds of pointless social events these days. They both had barely seen their boss during the last week and he suspected the situation wouldn't change in near future.
"Let's start. I'll search my phone later."
"Very well."
"I sent you in the morning the reply for Ambassador Noraag's request. Did you read it?"
"I did. To optimize the process, I corrected the original version to fix spelling mistakes beforehand."
"Spelling errors? I proofread it," the human assured. "Can you tell me what mistakes are you talking about?"
"Ambassador's name was misspelled in various instances. Also, the several punctuation signs are misused throughout the text," Varek assured, quickly clicking on the screen of his device under the human's scrutiny. "I will send you back the text you have sent to me."
Scott's PADD beeped on his hands. He opened the file containing the eagerness he felt to prove Varek wrong about what he just assessed.
"This is not what I wrote," he quickly said, frowning.
"That is the text I received."
"It's wrong."
"That is what I am trying to communicate to you, Scott."
The calm tone he used was unnerving and only fueled the human's frustration. There was no way he could have written that terribly misspelled text full with amateurish errors.
"I meant that I did not send that to you."
"It is illogical to lie."
Scott saw Varek arching an eyebrow and he used all the energy he had to not roll the eyes in response.
"I didn't say that you are lying. I did say that I didn't write that crap. I have been working for Ambassador Sarek for almost two years. I know how to properly write and, excuse me, but do you really believe that Ambassador Sarek would allow me keep my position writing the word 'ambassador' with a letter h at the beginning?"
"There is no need to feel personally alluded by work matters."
"It was an expression, Varek," Scott said, exhaling. Varek had a special talent to make him feel extremely stupid and incompetent. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Varek."
"We have been attending different social gatherings throughout our stay in Shi'kahr. Your human biology makes you require more sleep hours than a Vulcan. Therefore, it could be that the demands of the work schedule are overwhelming because of the biological limitations of your weaker species. ," Varek explained coldly.
Scott felt no kindness coming from him, only blatant and pure arrogance. So, he kept his mouth shut and forced a fake smile before saying, "I'll be careful with what I write and when I write it."
"You are only human," Varek stated.
"Do you have a problem with that?" Scott snapped, because it was not the first time Varek had made a comment like that and he was beginning to feel attacked.
The small amount of peace he evoked fell apart in a heartbeat. He might be exaggerating, but the sub tone and wording Varek was inclined to use when pointing out any flaw he may have was consistently condescending and arrogant. A cultural clash? Perhaps, but he wasn't sure, not while Varek was looking at him with that pair of eerie emotionless eyes.
"No, I do not." Varek remained still.
"Well, 'weaker species' it's not the friendliest of statements."
"I may have made a mistake with my selection of words, but you are reacting emotionally to an objective fact. I don't pretend to belittle your heritage. You have misunderstood me," Varek said matter-of-factly, devoid of all emotion.
Varek's seriousness made him doubt about his wrathful response.
Was he in the wrong? Was his reaction out of proportion? Perhaps. Regardless, Scott was certain that he had written correctly the text, but Varek had a valid point. Despite how impolite Scott thought Varek was while exposing his assessment.
"You are right. I need to sleep," Scott said all of a sudden.
It was late and he didn't wish to look more emotional and uneducated as he already had portrayed himself in front of Varek's eyes. The Vulcan had enough material to judge him negatively and being tired only would make him look even more cranky.
"Very well. Good night."
"Good night."
Scott followed Varek gracefully moving to the door to leave.
Ⱄ Ⱄ Ⱄ
Sarek touched the tiny pin in his robes for the sixth time, as a way to ground himself.
He could feel Ambassador Vanni's eyes staring at the human styled wedding ring he was using in his right hand and Sarek wanted to ask him if he wished to see it closer. So he could stop pretending he was not appalled to see a Vulcan wearing accessories belonging to human wedding rituals. Human ambassadors had proven to be really interested in his personal life as Sarek had already confirmed and they weren't exactly discreet about it.
Once the official part of the meeting was over and the mandatory social gathering started, he could hear their voices speaking in a lower tone at the distance about the fact Amada wasn't there and, once again, the wedding ring. Unnecessary to point out the lack of logic in finding an accessory relevant enough to feel the need to speak about it behind his back. Apparently, the intergalactic press, the public and his colleagues found entertaining to comment the same topics; Amanda, anything related to the relationship and how the logic extremists took the public announcement. Sarek wished to be able to flee or a have a less sharp hearing sense that prevent him of —unintentionally— eavesdropping meaningless chatter involving him. Leaving that soon would be rude, attaching to human social conventions, and he didn't want to walk around in the search for his aides. For some reason, that felt like an awkward move on his behalf.
Sarek had confined himself to stay nearby the egregious window displaying the urbanized Shi'kahrian view.
"Did you see it?" The excitement in Ambassador Bjarni Ottó's tone was evident and absurd in his view.
"The ring?" The female voice of Ambassador Agneza Stana whispered, but Sarek still could hear her, loud and clear. He couldn't hold himself to observe the thick silver hoop surrounding his finger, which only highlighted the absurdity in finding interesting to comment that detail at all.
"I thought Vulcans didn't wear wedding rings," Ambassador Santomé countered.
"They don't," Ambassador Tremblay assured.
"He's married to a human. It's logical to see him partake in our customs," replied Ambassador Stana.
"Very emotional on my view to wear accessories symbolizing events."
"Many cultures agree that is appropriate to acknowledge major events in one's life, such as getting married."
"Still an emotional move."
How illogical was to question his intentions behind such a small gesture. Sarek forced himself to focus his attention on the sound of the capital moving beyond the window in front of him. Nonetheless, he failed the task.
"Not necessarily. Every culture, values an event in different ways and, honoring alien practices is an essential part of our work. I don't believe that wearing a piece of human jewelry is meant to be entirely an emotional action, since he's married to a human."
He could see Ambassador Hsogwi standing in the circle sipping his drink in silence, not partaking actively in the conversation, but wearing a subtle expression that led to think the he was interested to hear what they had to say about the topics.
Partaking in human customs was the logical course of action. If he wanted a purely Vulcan way of living, he would have chosen a Vulcan woman as a mate, not a human one. So he was there, standing in the middle of a room with a crowd of educated individuals, who had lived and experimented the galaxy as much as he had and who still felt the need to waste their valuable time, gossiping about someone else's life and an event without actual impact on their personal environments.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Ambassador Sarek," the unmistakable deep voice of Ambassador Jharaah said in a moderated cheerful tone.
Sarek almost choked on his glass of water. It took him an endless minute to recover the composure and turn to face the woman.
"Ambassador Jharaah."
"It is a beautiful night. Shi'kahr has its charm." The woman's eyes concentrated on the nocturnal view of the desert through the open window at the ballroom.
"Certainly," Sarek answered and lowered his eyes for a brief moment.
Ambassador Jharaah's eyes eyed their colleagues at the distance and locked eyes with him, a conciliatory smile formed on her face. "As I said, it's only harmless chatter for the sake of the entertainment."
Sarek nodded in agreement.
He was aware of that. She had said it before. His concerns had another source and were far more reasonable than meaningless idle talk from strangers.
"Illogical beings often engage in illogical practices, such as gossip."
"We do."
The background talk highlighted the silence between them.
Sarek was immersed by the vision of the night. He missed the times where he thought the world he had born into was safer and more civilized. Easier times, with no pressure to prove who he was. The doubts and dubiousness he had grown by returning to his home world were uncomfortable, because it could be categorized as low-key emotionalism. Was he fearful of the logic extremists? No, but taking into consideration their numerous mentions in recent speeches was logical. Thus, it was reasonable to question if was logical to feel threatened.
"Negotiations seem to be delayed."
"As I'm aware, there are not," Jharaah said. "You're the one who seemed to arrive earlier than expected to Vulcan."
An odd comment, since his presence was specifically requested, according to his father and the Vulcan government had made the necessary arrangements for his arrival. The only thing they had asked was his very presence at the stipulated time and date.
"I don't mean to bother you, Ambassador."
"What it's is the purpose of approach me with no official intention?"
"Empathy." A feeling. Sarek stared at her in disbelief, not because he couldn't comprehend her words, rather he felt unfocused.
"Empathy," Sarek repeated with a voice tone devoid of emotion.
"I know. It is illogical," she stated and Sarek agreed. "I have had the pleasure to work along with respected figures of your home world. I concluded that honesty and straightforwardness are valued traits among your people."
"You speak truly," Sarek started. "Vulcans value those traits, since logical courses of action require awareness."
Jharaah nodded and he noticed a strain of hesitation in her facial expression.
"In my long career as a diplomat, I've seen only two Vulcans show visibly emotions," The woman said solemnly. Sarek wasn't eager to engage in a conversation about personal topics. He saw her thinking carefully her words and she continued with a low voice tone, "One, thirty-four years ago during a tragic incident at my home world, when one of my dearest friends lost her bond mate. The second time, has been this night at this precise moment."
"Pardon?"
Was she accusing him of being publicly emotional? Sarek inquired internally. He was a Vulcan and, as one, he was trained to keep his emotions for himself.
"You look troubled, Ambassador," Jharaah said and then, in a quiet voice added, "I can see your emotions, as everyone in this room. If I were you, I would appreciate being told."
Sarek blinked and observed his own reflection in the crystal of the window. He was troubled by the inside and little he knew he was projecting that state to the outside, to the galaxy to see at the moment that he needed to look most Vulcan than ever. At that precise moment, he felt exposed and mildly ashamed. It didn't matter how much he tried to content his visibly emotions, he lacked of the energy to do it. So he stood there and gave back a confused gaze to Ambassador Jharaah, who returned a mild worried expression as a response.
"You should take a seat," Ambassador Jharaah suggested.
Sarek slightly frowned to hear that suggestion. Why? He didn't need to rest at all. He repressed the need to touch his pin once again.
"I am fit, Ambassador," Sarek replied, recovering the composure. He straightened his posture to look as collected as every other Vulcan, but that sudden attempt to conceal his emotional display didn't go unnoticed.
"You seem unwell." The empathetic tone she was extending to him was condescending in his ears. Sarek was aware that Ambassador Jharaah was well intentioned and was trying to offer some sort of friendly gesture and a demonstration of kindness by being honest.
But, it was clear she still perceived him as the oblivious child of the once famous Ambassador Skon.
And that wasn't pleasant at all.
Sorry if some details or characters look without purpose, but I promise you that they have a motive to be mentioned and be there. I apologize for the long wait. I was correcting other stories that are already published, because I want to give you the best quality I can deliver to you. Special shout out to tanseynz and StarryEyes200 for commenting and following the story!
Tanseynz: Yes, Sarek isn't functioning too well. It's about to get worse :(
StarryEyes200: Thank you. Sadly, I agree with you. This story reflects a lot of things that are still happening in 2020 :(