Spock I have not seen you here; where are you? Did you not come because of me? Do you hate; no, he is too logical for that. Amanda, you must have hated... I hate that I cannot…I want to tell you how proud I am; No, NO! I must reign in these thoughts. I will not jeopardize my reputation. Endure. You are Vulcan. Soon you will be away from this place again, back to Excalbia. Again please, show me Amanda; Skon, Sybok, Michael, everyone dead. Let me have them back. PLEASE!"
Sarek felt his mind return to calm as he opened his eyes.
Sarek had sensed clutter blocking his mind over the morning, reason becoming a difficult thing to grasp. Logic showed him his time on Excalibia would affect his ability to filter out the heavy emotions of the multitude of humans and other expressive species surrounding him again. Against waves of dissent and lack of practice, his discipline carved through to churn back the gushing flow to still waters.
Sarek had testified during that morning's debate. He recalled little dissent. There was no reason as yet any final polices would be extrapolated from the given testimonies, and only those whose recollections felt dangerously close to pointing out a real need for change were shouted down. Sarek was not among such voices; to dissent facts would be illogical.
He carried his mediation candle and set it into a small box on a dresser. Carved around the box was Vulcan script of Surak's teachings. Sarek studied the words a moment to further center himself.
Shouting boomed into his quarters. Once again, Sarek thought; the fifth time in the course of 3.06 hours. Never coming from the same room, slowly marching down the corridor towards his quarters. The Starfleet cadets, those that hadn't been swept out like the previous Betazoid occupant of Sarek's current residence, had yet to hone the professionalism of experience to realize that whatever partying they normally indulged in, as Sarek assumed the shouting to be, was out of place given the conference.
But there was no partying. Sarek's door opened without warning, three freshman cadets from across the hall following behind the ensign with threats.
"I'll need you to stay there; this is all according to protocol." He pushed them back to their room and continued into Sarek's quarters. Deducing he was preforming a search, Sarek watched the ensign's neck closely. If he proceeds outside of Starfleet's typical search parameters, Sarek thought; he had overstepped already in coming in without provocation.
"Why have you entered my quarters?"
"Sir, have you invited any guests to your room in the last few hours?" The ensign tossed out the question as he shuffled Sarek's robes hanging in the closet to search there as well.
"I do not keep my guests in my pockets for safekeeping."
Sarek held his hands in front of him when the ensign faced him. He is distressed, Sarek noted. The ensign smoothed his uniform with a glare, and started knocking on the walls. He had been displaying a heightened state of paranoia throughout his search.
"Did you have any guests over?" The ensign asked.
"I have not." He replied.
The bathroom was searched last; Sarek could make out the toilet lid being lifted. He ran down a list of all known species that could fit into such a small space. How strange, he thought; none are known to be hostile in anyway.
"Have you seen any Algeans around?"
"I have not." The Algeans were a tall, humanoid species, Sarek noted; they would not fix into an Earth toilet.
The ensign left without any further acknowledgement of him. Sarek then heard loud shouts from the room to his left. Whoever occupied the room mostly practiced their music when Sarek was in his quarters to hear them; by the sound Sarek had assumed it was Perrin and the other woman from the concert. Hearing her voice now, he discovered that was correct.
The ensign's zealousness was a notable issue for his search, Sarek mused. Even humans appreciated it only to a point. Perrin sounded to have reached it.
His Algean comment lingered on Sarek's mind.
By the looks of the ensign Starfleet and the Federation had no grasp on the situation with the missing Algeans. Sarek, however, sensed he might be able to do more for the situation. "Ambassador Salla." He muttered, leaving his quarters, quickly glancing into Perrin's room as he passed it. She does not wish him to note something about her, Sarek mused. Perrin was turned from the ensign, boring her sight into a small mug near her room's replicator unit.
"We're not traitors." He caught her say as he went on.
The dormitory where Sarek had been moved to was a short way from his destination. He made no request for transportation and walked there instead, to Starfleet's Medical College.
Its campus had a healing affect of its own. The old trees hovering shade onto every pathway leading about the two buildings making up the college lowered the humid heat to something humans would have found pleasing; Sarek focused on his body's internal temperature and raised it slightly to accommodate. Trees and other flora accented the cubistic architecture that cut a sharp contrast against them. Between the two was the struggle of all evolving species between growing and remaining anchored to what has been though the building was unyielding in appearance. The angles reminded him of Vulcan, though the light green marble exterior of the building was not something Vulcans favored.
During the course of the debates, Starfleet's usual activities had been stunted. Except for all necessary personnel, classes had been cancelled to keep students and staff off campus. It still functioned as a teaching hospital though only the actual doctoral staff remained. Well used in that regard, two wayward cadets limped towards the building, coming up a ledge by the San Francisco Bay. A stretcher came out with some of the remaining nursing staff. Sarek found it curious to see one grab the curly haired cadet and lie him down forcefully.
"Again; AGAIN!" They shouted.
"Sorry." Sarek barely heard the cadet's regret-filled reply.
He decided to follow behind them; the entrance they came through seemed to lead where he wanted. "Emergency Care Unit Entrance and Temporary Staff Offices" read a sign near it. Sarek noted drops of red blood streaking behind the stretcher as he entered and walked down the wing to another sign detailing a list of temporary staff. Room 413, Admiral Davis. He went and waited. He'd sat himself at one of the rows of tables across from Davis's desk before the Admiral came in and spotted him.
"Ambassador Sarek; you've caught me at a good time. Yes, yes; very good." Davis flashed a big smile towards Sarek. He laughed, catching his breath as he started again on rearranging a group of PADDs piled haphazardly on his desk.
"Oh what I would pay for the privilege; I taught some fascinating people in my life, but you." Davis clapped at the thought.
"Money is an obsolete concept among even humans." Sarek replied.
"But the expression stands; yes, yes." Davis left the PADDs and stared curiously at Sarek. "And why are you sitting there, in my classroom?"
"Ambassador Salla; where was he being reassigned?"
"Algea." Davis's response sounded as regretful as the cadet's; more so. "A good man; not as… military as Andorians usually come. Last we spoke, about three weeks ago, he was on Ferenginar, trying to get a ride on an Orion starship. For whatever reason the USS Vasa was being delayed so; yes, yes. I told him to wait, but—. I didn't hear back from him after that."
"Thank you." Sarek replied with a human response and rose, not needing to know anything more to aid his conclusion.
"Live long and prosper." Sarek added before he left, hearing Davis call to him somberly as he went, "Didn't take much for you to figure it out; yes, yes. I would have paid with the world."
Whatever treatment was being given, the cadet from earlier screamed as he underwent it. Sarek decided to avoid going back towards the Emergency Care Unit. From the outside, he'd noted another entrance towards the east wing of the building; he would head towards that direction. Staying on the main halls usually led towards the exits.
For some distance Sarek sensed no one else. All the noise seemed to be located behind him; the rest of the building appeared predominantly vacant. It was a welcome change—like the streets of ShiKahr at dawn, though any time of day mostly saw little congestion. He noted the wall displays lit up as he passed, showing a small map of the building with his location marked by a walking stickman. Sarek turned left onto the east wing; following straight down appeared to lead him out both from his sight and from the display.
The wing was dedicated to experimental research and displays honoring past students and Starfleet personnel. Dates on the various memorabilia became more recent as he closed in to the exit.
Before the doors, two wall height cases held models of a few medical ships along with photos and plaques. Sarek walked a little closer, noticing something for Comparative Alien Physiology by Dr. Leonard McCoy. One of Spock's associates, Sarek recalled. He remained in Dr. McCoy's debt for his efforts prior to the Babel Conference. Illogical perhaps, but Sarek was wiling to admit to it considering the consistent assistance the doctor had provided his family.
A small panel detailed the research that went into writing the book, next to that was a copy of it and a photo. In it, Dr. McCoy looked aged compared to Sarek though much younger than Sarek in truth. But the man smiled with a great deal of energy, surrounded by hundreds of people and Spock in the photo. Spock stood back though closely watching Dr. McCoy. True to his Vulcan half, Sarek's son did not bear the years as Dr. McCoy had, except for a bit of gray in his hair.
Sarek noted someone else, hidden behind a surge of people rushing to McCoy. She looked subdued, even more guarded. It was Perrin in the uniform of a Starfleet Medical student.
