Authoress' Note: This is definitely my second favorite chapter for several reasons. :) I won't list them though, so that I don't give anything away. It's about time we brought the story back to Uhura, our leading lady. I do so love her character. The next few chapters will probably be solely from her point of view actually. Please review when you're doing reading! Thanks so much!
Shifting Perspective
The lights in Uhura's office dim as she exits the room, pulls her sweater from off the rack, and yanks it over her head. The Terran Embassy is freezing despite the hot temperatures of the planet outside. She checks to make sure the door has locked behind her and starts off down the corridor at a brisk pace, her heeled shoes clicking against the tiled floor.
She has an invitation to dine at ShiKahr with Sarek and is already a quarter of an hour late. He will not be pleased, and she doesn't think that her excuses will make up for the fact that she missed the first course. There had been a meeting, however, between members of the Terran Embassy. It had something to do with the repopulation program, which wasn't due to be put into real effect for a few more years. She hadn't really paid attention, but instead, had stared at the astronomical clock on the wall for the duration of the meeting. Absentmindedly, she waves at the young woman at the receptionist's desk as she leaves.
"Late again?" the woman calls after her, "Why do you even bother?"
Nyota waves her hand over her shoulder to acknowledge the question as she pushes open the double front doors.
"Busy, Aria. I'll call you later, okay?"
"Whatever. . ."
Aria's response is not harsh, but good-natured and somewhat understanding. She and Uhura have been friends for some time, perhaps since they both worked as translators when Vulcan II was just being established. She is privy to Uhura's situation, and while it seems slightly odd to her, she is grateful for the young woman's friendship in such a strange and foreign land.
Uhura drives her hover car through the winding streets without any trouble. There is hardly ever any air traffic on Vulcan, very much unlike Earth. ShiKahr is situated farther out from the city on an outcropping of rocks, underneath the looming mountains. In the distance, a single mountain, similar to that of Mount Seleya, rises up behind the grounds set aside for such ancient traditions as koon-ut-kal-if-fee and other Vulcan mating rituals.
In two years Uhura has seen it used often. She was once party to watching some of the youngest Vulcans climb to the mountains summit and become bonded in a ceremony that Spock described to her as "less than marriage, but more than a betrothal". It all seemed rather mysterious to her, and when she had inquired further about it, Spock had not answered.
Uhura parked the hover car in the front and climbed the many steps as quickly as she could in her Terran heels. Even at this time of day, on the verge of night, the air was hot and humid enough to cause her sweater to stick to her uncomfortably. She pulled down her skirt and cursed under her breath for forgetting the light veil she had bought only months earlier to cover her head after being informed that it was a traditional garment that most Vulcan women wear.
She lets herself in, as Sarek had instructed her to do on previous occasions, and glances at herself in a mirror in the entryway. She looks presentable enough. At least, she won't have to fear offending anyone. Modesty she has learned is something of a virtue to Vulcans. They often do not take kindly to her short Terran skirts and dresses and are even less impressed with the way she wears her hair and walks about in high shoes.
When she enters, Sarek has already begun eating alone in a grand dining room able to seat at least a dozen more people. Uhura slips into the chair next to him, trying not to disrupt his thoughts. They sit in silence as a bowl of plomeek soup is placed in front of her. She sips at it slowly and watches the ambassador out of the corner of her eye. He sighs deeply, pushes his bowl away, and leans back in his chair watching her. She places her spoon on the side of the bowl and lowers her eyes.
"I'm sorry for being late. There was a meeting at the embassy. It will not happen again."
Sarek nods approvingly, impressed with her sincerity and humbleness. He has taught her well over the last couple of years. Tonight is not a night to stand on ceremony, however, and he lifts her chin gently with one finger as he once did with Amanda long ago on Earth.
"There is no need for such caution here. I have much to speak with you about. Do you have time to stay?"
"Of course!" Uhura says as a plate of something that looks like shellfish, but is an odd blue-grey colour replaces the empty bowl.
"Good. I had hoped to speak with you on a matter of great importance that has come up in the Vulcan High Council."
Uhura watches Sarek to see how to separate the shell from the meat, and is surprised when he cuts the entire specimen in half. She notes to herself that it doesn't even crunch like a shell should. She cuts her piece and almost laughs out loud. What she thought was a shell is actually a soft casing that seems to be edible. At any rate, it smells delicious.
Sarek continues without any pretense. "Vulcans do not normally speak of such things to other worlders, but I feel that you have earned a certain right to hear such things. You are not Vulcan, but I believe you will understand," he takes a deep breath through his nostrils, "As you know, the repopulation plans and policies will go into effect in the next few years. We are fine-tuning them in the High Council at this moment. As it is, I stand by what I told my son 2 years ago now; I will not remarry. Instead, I have agreed to donate."
"Donate?" Uhura asks, after swallowing a particularly large amount of the mysterious shellfish. She draws her eyebrows together, confused.
"Yes," the older Vulcan pauses and seems to struggle for a moment before continuing his explanation, "There is a list of Vulcan women who are willing to become surrogate mothers. I thought perhaps I would be able to contribute in that respect."
"Surrogate . . . oh. Oh, yes, I see," Uhura realises exactly what they are discussing and begins shoveling food in her mouth, thankful for her dark skin colour as she is certainly blushing a deep red at the very thought of such a dignified Vulcan engaging in such activities.
"You are uncomfortable," Sarek states matter-of-factly, in a voice not unlike his son's, "Have I offended you in some way?"
Uhura holds up her hands in front of her chest, her fork clattering onto the plate. "No, no I'm not offended at all! I just didn't think we'd be discussing something so personal."
"It will not be a regular occurrence, I can assure you."
"That's fine," Uhura says, relaxing, "Great. What else did the High Council discuss that you wanted to share with me?"
"The matter of my son's absence."
Uhura swallows hard and sucks in a deep breath to keep her self from choking. For a moment she feels as though the bottom of her stomach has completely dropped away. She refuses to meet Sarek's eyes that are boring into her.
"We agreed, not that long ago when we were just beginning to rebuild, that he would not be forced to return until biology itself forced him to return or our repopulation programme began. Neither has happened as you can see."
Uhura nods, although she is confused by Sarek's use of the term "biology". A lot of Vulcans seem to use it, and she still isn't entirely sure what the connotation behind it is. The only definition she has ever come across for such a word is the typical dictionary definition: characteristic life processes and phenomena of living organisms. It sounds an awful lot like sex to her, but she isn't exactly sure how she could possibly confirm such an idea without being blatant about it.
"Repopulation outside of this programme is inevitable. It is to be set in place most generally for creating bonds between many different gene pools and establishing that no Vulcan remains alone. My son will be bonded to a Vulcan woman when he returns, whenever that may be. It could be years from now. He is still very young."
Uhura nods again, mechanically, a lump forming in her throat. How could he know that such a conversation as this one would cause her such pain? Even after all this time apart she still finds that the very thought of Spock with another woman sets her insides burning with jealousy and hatred. She stares down at her plate intensely.
"Has it ever occurred to you that there is someone who loves him very deeply still waiting for him, ready to accept the responsibilities of being a Vulcan wife?"
Her voice is firm, and she meets Sarek's gaze with such intensity that for a split second he looks taken aback.
"It has," the older Vulcan states simply, "And I would have this person know that I of all people would not wish to sunder such a union if it were not my duty to my people to have my son bonded to a fellow Vulcan. "
"I understand," Uhura whispers, her throat constricting painfully.
"No, I do not think you do."
Sarek's voice is hard and cold, stinging like a slap across her cheek.
"In two years our population has not grown in the slightest. 47.3% of the population is past childbearing age, while barely 8% of the population is children under the age of 7. Only 14 children were bonded to one another this year, though that is up from 10 last year. We are a dying species, and a Vulcan child of mixed blood is better than no child at all."
The sharpness of his tone hurts more than anything he could ever say to her, and Uhura bows her head against the onslaught of tears. Again, Sarek lifts her chin gently. His face is still set in that stern mask that he usually wears, but his eyes have softened as he gazes down on her face.
"I think it is time for you to go home, Nyota-kan."
She nods, still upset by his words, but does not show it. She lowers her head, slightly ashamed that she had not been able to stay until the meal was finished. He seems to sense her disappointment and hurt. Standing up, he places a hand upon her shoulder just as she passes by him on her way to the door.
"Do not be ashamed. I had a human wife. She would not have you leave in such a state."
It is almost as though he has enveloped her in a hug, such is the feeling that lifts her spirits. She lifts her head and meets his eyes once more before leaving the room without another word. Uhura wishes then that she could have known the woman who was Spock's mother. Amanda Grayson seemed to have been a very lucky woman indeed.