Jim greatly enjoyed getting to know his new friend Bones. He hadn't laughed like that in years, the stories Leonard told were so hilarious. Despite his grumpy exterior, the Starfleet Doctor really knew how to tell a tale.
In return, he told Bones how he was hoping to get into the college on Betazed and possibly pursue criminal justice.
"Unless Starfleet suddenly starts an anti-trafficking task force, which it clearly doesn't have, I'll go for the Interplanetary Federation Bureau of Investigation. I Could at least help there."
"You could," agreed Bones, "and probably get yourself killed ticking off some bigwig in the Syndicate."
"It would be worth it if I could save enough people from that life to make enough impact to get a dealer angry enough to strike," Jim said quietly, blue eyes glittering with determination. "The truth is, losing one or two slaves to death or escape doesn't faze most of them. It takes a significant number to get them riled enough to go headhunting."
"You've got to get a little meat on those bones, first, kid," Leonard said not unkindly, eyeing Jim's still skinny figure. "It's hard to bring down the bad guys when you're likely to break in half throwing a punch."
"True," Jim agreed, with a rueful smile while flexing an arm muscle that looked pitifully underdeveloped compared to the doctor's. "But Amanda and Spock are already implementing your recommendations and making sure I eat. It's weird being allowed to eat three meals a day and I forget sometimes."
The doctor winced at this statement: another casual reminder of Jim's inhumane treatment as a slave. His scowl deepened as he thought of Jim toiling all day while malnourished and dehydrated.
Before he could say anything else, Sarek entered the room and informed them that the Elders were meeting soon and wanted the humans there to talk with Jim and hear for themselves just how bad the species trafficking issue had become.
Jim's nerves went through the roof as he imagined facing a room full of stern Vulcans being interrogated about his past and intentions. He gulped.
"Ummm, okay. Will I need to change?" He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans that he'd replicated after the robes got too awkward for him.
"It is not required, but it would be taken as a sign of respect and good will," Sarek explained.
"Understandable," Jim answered. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I'll go make myself presentable."
Jim nodded to Bones and Pike, who was still talking with Spock, and went downstairs to change. The way her eyes were flashing, it seemed like it must have been an intense conversation. Vulcans might not show much expression on their face, but their eyes certainly did, especially Spock's. Jim thought she'd inherited those especially beautiful brown eyes from Amanda, having seen how similar they were. No point in thinking too deeply about them though.
He carefully put on the silvery blue robes, made sure they were properly fastened and arranged Vulcan style, and combed his hair and tied it out of the way.
"I certainly have the hippie look down pat," Jim muttered to himself while putting on his sandals. "Wonder what the Vulcan Elders will think?"
"This look okay?" He asked Amanda when he'd emerged. He did want to make a good impression at least.
"Very nice, Jim." Amanda assured him.
"Indeed." Spock added. The approval in her voice as she looked at him had Jim's ears turning pink.
"It'll be even better once I'm not a stick figure any more," he said wryly, glancing at how loosely it hung on him. Bones and Pike were watching him with curiosity from where they stood near the door.
"Not bad, Jim. Brings out your eyes," teased the Captain.
"Doesn't it though?" Amanda exclaimed. "I knew that color was perfect for him."
Unused to real compliments, Jim was red in the face by the time they climbed in the hover car to drive to the High Council Hall. It was about ten minutes from Sarek's residence to the ancient stone building that housed the Vulcan Elders.
It wasn't ostentatious, but had a solemn quality about it that had him almost tiptoeing through the cool halls following Sarek and Pike. Leonard was looking around suspiciously.
"Feels like a funeral parlor or a monastery," he whispered to Jim.
"I bet it's been around for awhile," Jim whispered back. "Look at all those manuscripts and old sculptures."
"Indeed the hall was constructed nearly four hundred years ago," informed Sarek. "The manuscripts are early works of Surak written in High Vulcan and carefully preserved. Before his reforms, we were a savage, ruthless race, ruled by our baser passions and fraught with strife."
Jim tried to imagine a bunch of angry Vulcans fighting each other and had to stifle the merriment this image caused him in contrast to the solemn robed figures they passed in the hall, covering a chuckle with a cough.
"You okay, Jim?" Bones eyed him suspiciously like he was suddenly coming down with pneumonia or whooping cough.
"Yeah, Doctor, just a tickle in my throat," he fudged, shrugging nonchalantly.
Any humor died down completely when they were ushered into the cavernous room that housed the Elders at council. Twenty or so elderly Vulcans, make and female, stood around a large round table looking solemn and downright intimidating.