ShiKahr, Vulcan, Stardate 2292.296

"I see. Then I shall inform Dr. Dvir." Sarek had begun pacing on the stone ground. He is uncomfortable and wants to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible, Losha thought.

"Is there anything further you wish to know concerning your father?" he asked.

"No." What else was there to know? He understood better than ever now why his father had felt he didn't belong here.

"Very well. Do you wish to remain here or do you need assistance returning to the house?"

"I'll stay here for a while."

"I'll be in my study, should you need anything." And with that Sarek left him.

He spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, trying to keep his emotions in check. Knowing his father had lived here, had even sat in this same spot, was surreal. And as much as he wanted to be angry at Sarek, he found that he couldn't be. Sarek may not have wanted his father in his life, but he had certainly done a lot for him. Was it purely out of obligation? A Vulcan sense of duty? He wished for a moment that he had his old telepathic senses so that he could have a better understanding of the man who was his grandfather.

Amanda, Malar, and Naalem returned in the late afternoon, Naalem full of excitement. He rattled on about everything he had seen at the museum and was clearly disappointed when it was time for dinner and he had to remain silent. After dinner, however, they all retired to the living room, where Sarek answered Naalem's questions with a patience that even Losha did not possess. He didn't seem the least bit annoyed, but instead interested in discussing Vulcan's history with Naalem.

When Naalem had been younger, he had often annoyed Losha to no end with his incessant questions about Vulcan. Losha had given him some information, but made it clear it was a topic he did not wish to discuss. Then the questions shifted to other planets Losha had visited. Losha had no qualms discussing them, but often found his patience worn utterly thin with the boy. But Naalem was thirteen now and did not ask nearly as many questions as he had when he was younger. The boy's excitement at being on another planet was reminiscent of his younger days. Losha was surprised at Sarek's patience - he imagined that Vulcan children were taught to be seen and not heard.

Amanda also seemed quite excited to be a part of the conversation. Losha found it remarkable that such a vibrant human had chosen to live here on Vulcan. Even more remarkable, after all this time living here, she was still very human. Living on Vulcan hadn't made her Vulcan in behavior, and yet Sarek did not seem bothered by this. Perhaps he assumed humans could not learn to follow the teachings of Surak. But that seemed illogical. His father had always told him that Vulcans were some of the most passionate species in the galaxy so if they could learn to suppress their emotions, surely a less passionate species like humans could. Sarek was an ambassador - perhaps the marriage had been for political reasons. But Amanda seemed genuinely happy. Losha wondered if her rejection of Vulcan teachings had influenced his father in any way.

These things crossed his mind as he lay in bed the night before the surgery. He was unable to shut his mind off and was filled with nervousness and apprehension. The surgery had only an eighty-six percent chance of being successful. Was it eighty-six? Or ninety-six? He couldn't remember. He had been so focused on having it done that the odds hadn't mattered. He knew is was more likely than not that it would be successful, but what if it weren't? Knowing his luck, he would be one of those four or fourteen percent of cases in which the surgery was unsuccessful. He tried to not think of the possibility, but the anxiety would not leave him. When it was finally time to get up the following morning, he had only managed to sleep for a little more than an hour, and it had been a half-waking, half-sleeping state.

Naalem and Malar had wanted to accompany him to the hospital. While he would have been comforted by their presence, he also didn't want them, especially Naalem, seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He was exhausted and unable to control his emotions as well as he usually did. That had been the case overall since the accident, but even more so today in particular.

He rode to the medical center in near silence with Sarek. His stomach felt as though it were wound up in knots. Once they arrived, Sarek checked him in, and then escorted him to a room.

"The staff will be in to see you momentarily. They will keep me apprised of your condition. When it is deemed suitable for you to have visitors, I shall be in to see you. Would you like me to bring Malar and Naalem as well?"

"No, if I want to see them after I wake up, I'll let you know."

"Very well. Is there anything you need of me?"

"No."

"I shall see you later today then."

Losha nodded his head. He heard Sarek turn and exit the room.

A few minutes later, a nurse entered and instructed him to change into a hospital gown she handed him. When she returned several minutes after that, she removed his hair using some type of laser tool. It felt strange, having no hair. Though the temperature in the room was comfortable, his head felt cold. He didn't have time to give it much thought, however, because he was soon being directed out of the room on the anti grav gurney. Another nurse then instructed him that she was about to give him a hypospray that would render him unconscious. He heard the flush of air from the hypospray and wondered how long it would actually take for him to lose consciousness.

"Velekh, du nam-tor s' sharushan." A Vulcan voiced seemed to be speaking to him from a dream. The voice was male, and it was one he didn't recognize. It had said he was out of surgery. But how was that possible? He had only just heard the nurse ejecting the hypospray.

"I am Sodok, a nurse." The voice continued in Vulcan. "Can you understand me?"

"Ah," Losha replied in Vulcan. "This is real? I am not dreaming?"

"No, you are conscious now."

"The surgery is over?"

"Yes, you are in the recovery room now."

"But I still can't see." Losha was confused.

"There is a covering over your eyes. The doctor will remove it when he comes in to examine you shortly."

Losha reached up and felt the cloth bandaging that was around his head. He hadn't even felt it.

"Do not attempt to remove it. I will let the doctor know you are conscious."

Before Losha could ask him any more questions, he was gone. The whole thing seemed surreal, even more so by the fact that the entire conversation had taken place in Vulcan. He frequently read news or articles in Vuhlkansu and other languages, but this was the longest conversation he'd had in the language in some time. All the other hospital staff had spoken to him in Standard. Perhaps Sodok didn't speak it. It didn't matter - he had no issue with comprehension and wouldn't have minded if the staff had spoken to him in Klingon, though he couldn't call himself fluent in that language.

One thing he had learned in all his travels was that one should do one's best to speak the native language. He had never expected others to cater to him, so it had been somewhat strange to have everyone addressing him in Standard. Still, he felt it would have been awkward to ask them not to. What if there was some medical terminology he didn't understand? Then they might find him silly for having to requested to speak in Vuhlkansu in the first place.

It was only a moment or so before the door opened again.

"I am Dr. Karatek, one of the doctors who performed your surgery." It was back to Standard. It wasn't a dream.

"I am Velekh. But I suppose you know that."

The nurse had been the first person to use his given name since he had last seen his father. Occasionally a captain or crew member noticed his legal name wasn't Losha and would inquire about it, but since he always introduced himself as Losha, that's what they called him. He knew a first officer from Tarod III that went by the Seenan name of Vola because no one could pronounce his real name. The Seenans didn't think anything of it as they had a habit of giving Seenan nicknames to aliens. Losha supposed it was silly to ask Vulcans to refer to him by a Seenan nickname, especially one that implied a familiarity. The hospital staff didn't know him so Velekh was sufficient. The name itself didn't bother him, it was only odd to hear it come off his own lips.

"Yes," he said and continued on without pausing in a very Vulcan-like way. "I am confident the surgery was successful. I will remove your bandages now. Lights to forty percent. We have applied contact lenses which are to be worn for two days. This will protect the eyes from light damage. You will also need to wear sunglasses while you are awake. Both the lenses and the glasses will adjust for light intake. The glasses are necessary only because the lenses cannot block as much light without obscuring vision."

The doctor was removing the bandages as he spoke. As Losha felt the last of the bandage coming off, Dr. Karatek said, "You may open your eyes now."

Losha didn't realize what he was seeing at first, he only noticed lightness and darkness. Soon he realized he was looking at a white wall in a relatively dark room. He turned to his left and a Vulcan face came into focus. He stared at the face, afraid it wasn't real. The eyes were brown, the nose unremarkable, the skin the same russet color of many Hakarans. Soon he realized the face was looking at him expectantly. Tears begin to fill his eyes and he turned his head away.