"Irreparable heart damage," the healer said. "An almost certain consequence of sustained contact with a significant energy source."
He was neither a trained biologist nor a physician, but as a Vulcan, his scientific knowledge was certainly extensive enough to follow the underlying principle. The three-chambered Vulcan heart was a complex organ, and the amount of energy he had absorbed through the force field had damaged his sinoatrial nodes and led to increasingly discordant heart rhythms until he was on the verge of an infarction.
Probability almost demanded both he and Amanda should be dead. It would have taken them more than six days to reach their intended destination of the Vulcan research station in orbit of Barradas III. They were on the cusp of death when a Vulcan science vessel called the Varith had rescued them less than five hours after their escape from the Tafv.
The ship lacked the resources to treat their severe injuries, but fortunately their mission had been to scout for mammalian life forms in a nearby star system and thus the Varith had several stasis chambers on board. Apparently he and Amanda made the journey back to Vulcan in stasis, packed neatly among a large variety of rodent-like species.
Back on Vulcan, his condition was easily treated through a series of electrostatic impulses to resynchronize his cardiac rhythms, though the hours he had gone without treatment had taken a permanent toll. The healer explained it would significantly shorten his lifespan and leave him more vulnerable to a number of cardiopulmonary infections. He would also never possess the same level of physical fitness, and would likely encounter lifelong episodes of "wheezing, light-headedness, fatigue, and shortness of breath."
He did not linger long over his prognosis and instead asked about Amanda. The healer would not tell him much due to privacy protocols, but informed him that though she was expected to survive, she had not yet regained consciousness. He asked to see her, but was informed Councilwoman T'Lona and a staff were en route to discuss the events that had unfolded both aboard the Tafv and throughout the Federation following the exposure of Bentham's plot.
He could not understand how Amanda had been so seriously injured. His memory of the final moments of the Tafv was not well constructed. It existed in fragments: they were running through the corridor and red emergency beacons were flashing. He recalled the impression of falling and Amanda screaming at him, and then the sensation of the floor falling out from beneath him. Something else…
She had told him she loved him. No, he could not be certain she had said such a thing. Even if she had, humans had a curious habit of saying things they did not mean under duress.
He rose from the bed to pull on the heavy hospital robe and was surprised to find such a simple task exhausting. He walked slowly to the small table and chair by the window and retracted the shade to see dusk setting over Shi'Kahr.
After several minutes, Councilwoman T'Lona entered alone. She explained that an investigator, adjutant, and stenographer waited in the hallway to take an official statement and that Federation authorities had been seeking to question him since he arrived, but she had been authorized to debrief him first.
She explained that following Molineaux's confession, Admiral Bentham had been traced to a small cabin on the North American continent and apprehended. He had refused to speak, but Terran and Federation authorities had retrieved vast amounts of information from private computers and encrypted transmission logs.
The weapon had not been found in orbit of Iota Eridani as Molineaux had suggested but the Andorian defense fleet had discovered it by chance, partially cloaked and moving at low warp through the Taugan sector, only twelve light years from where he and Amanda had been found. The crew had refused to surrender, and when Andorian authorities tried to board and seize it by force, the crew destroyed the vessel, killing themselves and four Andorian officers.
"What was Bentham's ultimate goal? He could not reasonably have expected to obtain the helium and deliver it to the weapon before the weapon was discovered," Sarek asked.
"We do not know," she admitted. "But that information may be forthcoming as the joint investigation proceeds. Which brings me to my other purpose for this visit. The High Council hoped you could explain why the authorities found a human corpse in your Terran quarters and how you came to be found in a Romulan escape pod in the Taugan sector with Amanda Grayson."
He started at the beginning, explaining that Amanda was staying at his private residence and following the public confession of Congressman Molineaux, he had gone to fetch her and bring her to the Vulcan consulate for her safety, but arrived to find her being held hostage. A violent struggle ensued, he was rendered unconscious, and when he awoke he was on board the Tafv.
"So Molineaux's claims were true," T'Lona murmured. "Bentham captured a Romulan vessel. Where is the Tafv now?"
"Destroyed," he replied.
"Were there any other survivors? Numerous scans of the sector were conducted and no debris or other escape pods were found."
"The ship itself was engulfed by an expanded artificial singularity created by overloading the ship's warp drive. There would be no debris. As for survivors, I cannot be certain, but I believe the original captain of the Tafv, a man called Llhran, also escaped."
"Did you see him?"
Sarek looked at her curiously. "Yes, he helped us escape."
"Explain," she demanded.
"Am I correct in inferring that you are aware that Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestry?"
T'Lona paused. "As I am sure you easily deduce, that information is not something the High Council would prefer to make public knowledge. Vulcan's relationship with Earth has taken decades to repair after more than a century of mistrust. As ambassador to Earth, I am sure you can appreciate that. Being so closely tied to the Romulans would make many within the Federation needlessly suspicious of us once again."
"It is a secret that cannot be preserved forever," he argued.
"No, but that information would be dangerous to reveal at this particular juncture," she rebutted. "Despite Congressman Molineaux's wide reaching confession, the Romulan involvement has been contained. Media reports throughout the Federation have retracted their initial claims of a Romulan attack, and the loss of the Comstock was officially attributed to an accident earlier this morning."
"So you are going to ask me not to include that in my official report," Sarek said, cutting to the point.
"The High Council would be grateful," T'Lona agreed.
"Your assessment of the situation is logical and I shall comply, though I cannot speak for what Amanda Grayson will say."
"It is the High Council's hope that you could persuade her to see the potential consequences of revealing such information at this point in time and explain that the Vulcan High Council would immensely grateful to her as well."
"Surely other people will speak with her before I can," said Sarek. "Why do you believe I can convince her?"
"Perhaps I mistakenly assumed you were friends," T'Lona answered. "But you are correct: the Terran consulate has made repeated requests to transfer her back to Earth for treatment in a facility more specialized in treating human patients."
"If the loss of the Comstock is being called an accident, then has Congressman Molineaux's confession been made public?" Sarek asked.
"It is difficult to comprehend, but every Federation member who received the confession has seen the logic in remaining silent on the matter. Earth's attempt to secede from the Federation caused a panic. The Terrans have since cancelled their emergency session and are trying to make amends."
"How do the Terrans plan to account for Admiral Bentham and the Earth Autonomy Movement? They will have to be formally charged for their crimes and in doing so, their actions will be made public."
"Admiral Bentham is a member of Starfleet, and the Federation has agreed to defer the treason investigation to them," T'Lona said.
"And given Starfleet also serves in a military capacity, they are not obligated to make public the details of the investigation under classification procedures," Sarek finished. "But if Congressman Molineaux was correct, Admiral Bentham has recruited many people to his cause. I do not see how it is possible to identify them all and keep his true purpose and actions a secret."
"Based on the cursory investigation, Admiral Bentham didn't have a large organization as Congressman Molineaux believed. Two members of the Federation Investigation Service were apprehended shortly after he was, and a handful of individuals with known connections to Admiral Bentham have gone suspiciously missing. For now it seems the full extent of Admiral Bentham's plans may yet be contained."
"I fail to see how," Sarek mused. "Much of the secondary information is public and many people, I would suppose on the order of thousands, have read Congressman Molineaux's confession. It seems only logical that people will eventually discover the truth."
"The Terrans have a term that I am surprised you are not familiar with," said T'Lona. "They call them 'conspiracy theories.' Many of them are baseless and derived backwards until enough evidence has been compiled that could theoretically support the claim. The entire argument is constructed upon various informal fallacies and would fail to stand up to the scrutiny of even a Vulcan toddler, but many other races are more gullible. A conspiracy theory only requires the belief of a few individuals, which leads the majority to scoff at the illogical claims. Over time, a large number of such theories cause the more logical majority to become jaded."
"Are you suggesting that humans spend so much time inventing imaginary plots that now that one actually does exist, no one will believe it?"
"It has been successful before," T'Lona replied
"But even without public knowledge of Admiral Bentham's plan, there will still be substantial consequences."
"Yes, and that cannot be helped," T'Lona agreed. "The Andorians are furious and have demanded to move Starfleet headquarters to their planet and the Tellarites are insisting that would give the Andorians too much power and would like the Federation Council to move to Tellar Prime. There will be much politicking in coming months but for now, the wide-ranging consensus is that the Federation is critical to the stability of the region, should the Romulans seek revenge for the loss of the Tafv."
"I cannot know for certain, but I do not believe it will come to that," Sarek said.
"Explain."
"Admiral Bentham's crew tortured and starved the Romulans aboard the Tafv. There was only one survivor, Llhran, the captain I spoke of earlier. He was vital in retaking the ship and agreed to destroy the Tafv and maroon himself on a planetoid in Romulan space as a means of regaining some of his honor and averting war with the Federation."
T'Lona's eyes narrowed. "How did you manage to negotiate such a deal?"
"The credit does not belong to me," he explained. "It belongs to Amanda Grayson. The Tafv either did not possess a translator or Admiral Bentham's crew disabled it. Miss Grayson is a skilled linguist with a respectable command of the Romulan language and facilitated our communication and proposed the arrangement with Llhran."
"Why do you believe he will remain silent?"
"I do not know that he will, and I am not certain he survived the destruction of the Tafv," Sarek explained logically. "He was in a considerably weakened state and may have been unable to make it to his own escape pod in time. If he did survive and does return home to Romulus, he has nothing to lose and everything to gain by keeping the truth to himself. He was naturally concerned by the loss of Romulan technology to the Federation, and the destruction of the Tafv was the only way he would agree to Miss Grayson's plan. Particularly in light of the Andorians' destruction of Admiral Bentham's weapon, it seems both parties have walked away with casualties but no public reason to continue hostilities."
"Then it seems Vulcan and the Federation are more indebted to Miss Grayson than previously believed."
"I assure you, Councilwoman T'Lona, Amanda Grayson is more likely to avoid notoriety than seek it, especially given her recent personal tragedies."
"I shall relate your account to the High Council, but there are personnel outside waiting to take your official statement. Is there anything further you would like to say, Ambassador Sarek?"
"Yes, it regards my post as Vulcan ambassador to Earth."
"The High Council is prepared to assign another ambassador and give you time to recover. The Vulcan Science Academy plans to offer you a position as-"
He interrupted his superior to say, "I wish to retain my position as ambassador."
"No one has ever refused an offer from the Vulcan Science Academy."
"They have not formally made an offer," he rebutted. "Therefore their record would remain untarnished. I would prefer it if the High Council would grant a continuance of my position prior to their official extension of such an offer."
"I alone cannot speak for the High Council, but if that is what you wish, I see no reason why we should not allow your request. It is curious, as it I am sure you are aware your reappointment as ambassador three months ago was something of a demotion, following your… regrettable personal situation."
He was surprised by her frankness but not the content of her confession. She had only said what he had long suspected. His former mate's family had significant influence. T'Rea's grandfather was cousin to Vulcan Minister of State Sorel and her father also was undersecretary to the head of the V'Shar, Vulcan's Security Directorate.
"Very well, live long and prosper Ambassador Sarek," she said, rising to her feet.
"Peace and long life, Councilwoman T'Lona."
Amanda awoke drenched in her own sweat with the vague sensation that an elephant was sitting on her chest. It was so hot.
"I'm in hell," she laughed weakly.
She was groggy and her voice sounded peculiarly garbled.
"Not precisely, Miss Grayson. You are on Vulcan."
"Sarek?" she croaked. She felt a hand slide across her left hand and opened her eyes. She turned her head on the pillow to see him sitting there in a low chait by her bedside.
"You're not dead," she said, feeling overwhelming tears of relief building inside of her.
"No," he answered. "But we both came very close."
"How long have I been out? How did we get here? Did he… Who… How…" She tried to sit up and found it was more difficult than she'd expected.
"You have been kept sedated for six days to allow your body to heal," he explained. "They removed you from the medication this afternoon to allow you to wake naturally."
Her mind was growing sharper and she suddenly felt very thirsty. As if he read her mind, he turned in his chair and clicked a button on a machine behind her and produced a glass of water. He handed it to her gently and steadied her hand as she raised it to her lips.
"Thank you," she said, mildly embarrassed by her dependence.
Her right arm was held firmly in a heavy metal device and she lifted it curiously. The events from the escape pod flooded back and she recalled being tossed against the wall when it ejected from the ship and the memories of her bones sticking out made her nauseated.
"How bad was the damage?" she asked, looking back at him.
"To you, the Tafv, or the Federation?"
She thought carefully to herself before saying, "All of it."
Before he could answer, an orderly came into the room.
"You are awake," she said.
Amanda resisted the urge to reply with sarcasm as the woman began taking readings with a medical tricorder.
"Perhaps the ambassador should wait in the corridor," she added.
"He can stay. I mean, if you want," she said, making eye contact with Sarek.
"Very well," the nurse said. "The Terrans transferred your medical records. Your current vital signs appear normal… for a human. However, I need to collect further data that was not available in your files. How many days ago did you begin your last menstrual cycle? I understand it occurs more frequently in your species."
Her face burned scarlet and without looking back over to Sarek she said, "Ok, maybe you should wait outside."
He complied with her request and the nurse continued to ask questions. A few short minutes later, a female physician entered the room and conducted a more thorough exam.
Amanda was shocked when she learned of the extent of her injuries. She guessed most of them happened when she had been thrown against the wall of the escape pod and the sheer amount of adrenaline had kept her from feeling more significant pain. In addition to her arm, she had also broken her hip, four ribs, two bones in her face, and fractured her skull. She had torn a number of ligaments in her right shoulder and lacerated her liver and right kidney.
Between internal bleeding and losing almost a third of her blood from the open fracture in her arm, she was informed that the fact that she was currently alive was "remarkable."
The physician introduced herself as T'Vara, and Amanda got the distinct impression she was fascinated by her human anatomy. The healer removed the cumbersome brace from her arm and she noted the light pink scar running down her outer forearm where she'd sustained the compound fracture. After twenty minutes, she announced she was satisfied with her condition said it was likely she could be released within forty-eight hours.
Sarek returned when she left. "Someone from the Terran consulate plans to visit you in the morning, but I should like to speak with you first, if you will permit me."
"Of course."
He related to her the entire series of events he had discussed with Councilwoman T'Lona two days earlier.
"So, Earth is staying the Federation then? And Admiral Bentham is going to prison? And we aren't going to war with the Romulans?"
"Yes to each of your questions, for the time being," he replied. "But there are two more matters which are of a more personal nature I would like to discuss with you. The first being that the Vulcan High Council has asked me to ask you to say nothing about the shared heritage between Vulcans and Romulans: actually it would be preferred if you did not mention the Romulans at all."
"Huh? What? Why? Do you have any idea how much we could learn from this? How much I learned from this? I only spent an hour on a Romulan ship speaking Romulan with an actual Romulan, but it explains so much about their language. And the obvious link between the Vuhlkansu and Romulan. I just don't see-"
"Miss Grayson, I admire your desire to make advancements in the field of linguistics and no one is telling you that you cannot. Yet think of the Federation's current situation. Consider of Earth's situation. I believe there are many who would exploit a link between the Vulcans and Romulans to renew tensions among Federation members, and the Federation requires unity, particularly now. Furthermore, admitting a Romulan vessel was moving through Federation space would likely incite a panic."
"You're asking me to lie?" she blurted. "I mean, lying by omission is still lying."
"You are correct," he admitted.
"I thought Vulcans couldn't lie."
"There is a difference between being unable to do something and preferring not to as a matter of principle, yet I believe this situation warrants it."
She was dumbfounded, but as she began to consider his points she could see the sense to what he was saying.
"What was the other thing you wanted to talk about?" she asked, trying to change the subject while she deliberated his request.
"It concerns your father."
Her heart skipped a beat. It felt like years since she had lost him.
"I don't guess you're going to tell me he was found alive," she said, trying to hold onto a shred of hope.
"No, I am not. The remains of the Comstock were found within a nebula in the Saurian sector."
She felt oddly calm. She felt like she had known he was dead in her heart when she'd first heard the news, and hearing Sarek confirm it gave her a sense of closure. Holding onto hope had been exhausting.
"I am sorry for your loss, Miss Grayson. I should not be telling you this, as it was contained in a classified communiqué, but I feel you deserve to know. Therefore, I would be immeasurably grateful if you didn't relate this information to anyone else. The official report claims it was an accident."
"The official report?" she asked suspiciously. "John killed him, didn't he?"
"Your former mate actually did a great service to the Federation, in a rather artless sort of way. I do not wish to go into the details, but he implicated Admiral Bentham in a fairly serious plot against the Federation, which has since proven to be true. He took his own life after he made the confession. I am sorry if his loss upsets you."
Amanda blinked. "It makes sense I guess, about John and Bentham. I mean, John was a lot of things, but I never got the sense he was a really bad person. I'm not glad he's dead, but I'm not sorry for it either."
"He made many questionable decisions and followed philosophies I did not agree with, but he tried to do the honorable thing in the end. I respect him for that," Sarek assented.
"Then was it Bentham who killed my dad?" she asked.
"It was the human crew aboard the Tafv, on Bentham's orders," Sarek replied more precisely.
Amanda was quiet for a time as she considered it all. "You know, when we were on the Tafv and I was discussing with Llhran how best to kill the others on board, I felt horrible, talking so casually about killing other people like it was just some kind of unpleasant chore that needed to be done. I argued with myself over it, and even now that I know those people were responsible for my dad's death, I still just feel a sense of shame. We killed people, Sarek."
Tears blurred her vision and soon fell down her cheeks.
"It was necessary to prevent further deaths. I shall never condone killing, but I accept it is an inevitable cost that must occasionally be borne when it prevents additional deaths."
"I wish I could be so logical and utilitarian as that," she sniffed. "But I still have to find a way to live with it."
"You have a gentle soul, Miss Grayson. It is one of many things I admire about you."
She forced herself to meet his gaze, and she inched her left hand forward to take his. His forefingers met hers in the motion he had referred to has "ozh'esta." A feeling of familiar peace and happiness stunned her.
"It was you," she said suddenly.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
She broke the contact with him and the sensation faded. She joined her two forefingers to his again and it returned. She looked at him with surprise.
"On the Tafv. I don't know how, but doing this with you…" she breathed deeply, taking in the euphoria of the closeness she felt with him. "It's like something from the ship. It is so overwhelmingly…"
"Miss Grayson?"
"When I was on the Tafv and they were… torturing me, I was so close to telling them that I suspected the helium they wanted was on Zetar. I would have said anything. But each time I approached the urge to give in, I felt like I do now. I don't know how to describe it. Content, maybe?"
Sarek gazed at her curiously, but their fingers continued to trace in circles. Eventually he said, "When I was in the cell, I could feel your pain. I tried reaching my mind out to you, as I did when our minds melded, but you did not respond. I presumed our bond was not strong enough. It seems it may have at least been sufficient to transfer emotion."
Her hand stopped moving and began to tremble.
"That makes sense. I think. When you were behind the force field and they were about to… well, when they were threatening to cut my fingers off, I was actually more frightened by you than them. It was scary to see you so angry. And then I was angry. I've never felt anything remotely like that in my life. I was so angry I was frightening myself. When you hit the force field, it hurt, but I just completely lost control and bit that guy. I bit a guy."
She laughed at how ludicrous that sounded and then added, "Is that what Vulcan emotions are like?"
"You see why we take great pains to suppress them through a'rie'mnu," he explained.
"So what does that mean, if we can do this? Share feelings, I mean?" she asked, looking back down at their hands and enjoying the sensation of contentment.
"Are you familiar with the term 't'hy'la'?" he asked.
The door to the room swung open and the orderly started with rather un-Vulcan surprise.
"Excuse me," she said, looking away. "Hours for visitors have ended. You may return tomorrow at 0900."
Sarek dropped his hand and stood.
"I have business to attend to in the morning, but I shall return in the afternoon," he explained.
She watched him go and felt a sort of sadness at being parted from him, one which turned into annoyance when the orderly began insisting that she eat and provided her with a bowl of broth that tasted like highly concentrated, slightly sour, berry-flavored sweat. Apparently bad hospital food was a literally universal cliché.
She was ravenously hungry though, and when she had managed to choke down enough to satisfy the orderly, she was promptly given a hypospray of something that almost instantly put her to sleep.
She was roused twelve hours later by the arrival of a young man from the Terran embassy who introduced himself as Jackson Caldwell, health and private affairs liaison to the Terran ambassador to Vulcan.
He explained some of the same things Sarek had told her the night before and said that Federation investigators wanted to speak with her when she returned to Earth, mostly as a courtesy, along with Starfleet intelligence. Apparently Sarek had already filed an official report of their abduction and escape, and he commended her actions and wished her a speedy recovery.
She was left to wonder how much of what actually transpired made it into such a report, if there was to be no mention of Llhran, the Tafv, or the Romulans in general. What was she supposed to say when people from Starfleet asked?
To add to her anxiety about concealing the truth from the authorities, Mr. Caldwell allowed her to use his personal PADD to call her mother. She initially tried to refuse his offer since she was unsure how to go about explaining it all to her, but he insisted. She got a feeling of dread that her mother had been harassing the embassy staff for the past week.
After a very pained call that included a lot of crying and demands for information that Amanda didn't have, she promised to try to call again soon and explained that Mr. Caldwell had promised she would be home in less than four days. Her mother promised to be at the landing pad when she arrived. She had mixed feelings about that: her mother could be pushy, unreasonable, and even a bit snobby at times, but she was still her mom and she hadn't seen her in months.
When her call was done, Mr. Caldwell begged her forgiveness and stated he was overdue for a meeting. Given the amount of political upheaval in recent weeks, she found it a reasonable excuse.
Just seconds after he left, she regretted not asking him about the logistics of her impending release from the hospital and trip home. Where would she stay? How would she get there? Whom should she call and how should she call them?
Furthermore, she hadn't had the foresight to pack a bag for her kidnapping and subsequent hospitalization, and the only clothes she had on were a baggy gray tunic, hospital pants that were nearly twenty centimeters too long and rolled several times to prevent them from dragging on the ground, and a pair of gray underwear that nearly came up to her armpits.
As if the orderly were attuned to her anxiety, she arrived just ten minutes after Mr. Caldwell left and took her vitals again and compared them against her medical chart. She then informed Amanda that T'Vara had monitored her progress throughout the night and felt there was nothing more the hospital could do for her and believed the rest of her recovery would best be spent at home to preserve hospital efficiency.
She deflected all of Amanda's questions and ordered her into the private, adjacent cubicle sonic shower. Given she had gone a week without a shower, the energy pulses felt practically intoxicating.
She had been supplied with a basic, standard hospital hygiene kit and took particular delight in brushing her teeth. The toothpaste tasted like sour baking soda but since her teeth felt on the verge of growing fur, she wasn't going to complain. It took a while to pick the matts and knots from her hair with the tiny metal comb, but eventually she was able to brush it into a glossy shine. She tried to examine the overall effect in the 15 centimeter mirror inside the shower but decided no matter what, she had to look a far cry better than she had just half an hour ago.
Just as she was considering putting her soiled hospital clothes back on for lack of other options, T'Vara came in with a large bag and handed it to her through the door.
"These belonged to my daughter, but she has long since outgrown them. I approximate they should fit you closely enough."
"You're… giving me these clothes?" Amanda asked
"Would you prefer to travel home in the hospital garments?" the healer responded. "The surgeons cut your other clothes off and they were damaged beyond repair."
"I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm sorry; it's just… nice of you. Thank you."
"There is no need for thanks. My youngest daughter no longer has need of them, and you do."
Amanda smiled to herself and then instinctively tried to hide it despite the fact that T'Vara couldn't see her through the door. Apparently kindness masquerading as logical behavior wasn't just unique to Sarek.
"Thanks all the same," she said.
She opened the bag to find a set of brand new socks and undergarments: black, nothing fancy, and a little small but far better than nothing. There were several dress-like garments of varying dark shades of gray, purple, and navy, all made of many light layers and fabric and long sleeves.
She pulled a maroon tunic-like dress over her head with a bit of trouble. Her shoulder and ribs were still sore and her hip still ached. She looked down at herself in the frock and though it was slightly too big on her, she thought it was quite pretty. She had never worn anything like it and was surprised to find it wasn't nearly as hot to wear as she'd suspected.
At the bottom of the bag contained a pair of light shoes that were really more like slippers. She put them on, found they fit like a glove, and flexed her feet in them. She was in enamored with them and figured Earth could learn a few lessons in footwear from Vulcans.
She emerged to find T'Vara standing in the middle of the room examining the screen of her medical PADD.
"You look suitable," the healer remarked
"Thank you again," Amanda stammered. "I owe it to you. Both for the clothes and patching me up."
"This is another dose of triox compound," she said, acting as if she hadn't heard Amanda's expression of gratitude and pulling a hypospray from her coat and injecting it into Amanda's neck. It stung, but T'Vara explained it would help her temporarily acclimate to the harsher conditions on Vulcan.
"I wouldn't recommend rigorous physical exertion, but it should ease the discomfort many of your species experience on this planet for approximately two days."
She continued to discuss her condition, encouraged her to return if she experienced anything from a list of symptoms, and turned a large PADD toward her for a digital signature on her release forms.
They were written in Vulcan and she began translating them for her when she cut T'Vara off with her own translation. She took an absurd delight in watching the healer's eyebrows flicker in surprise as she apologized for her assumption that Amanda was unacquainted with the language and complimented her on her mastery of it.
They spent thirty minutes pouring over redundant pages of information. Apparently cumbersome bureaucracy was standard in hospitals around the galaxy as well.
"Are there any further questions?" T'Vara asked.
"Yeah, actually, where am I supposed to go?" Amanda replied.
"Someone from the Diplomatic Service is waiting outside," she explained. "Follow me."
She followed her into a wide hallway and down a maze of corridors. Her hip hurt slightly: T'Vara had explained it would continue to be tender for several more weeks.
Despite the triox compound, the added gravity of Vulcan felt strange and easily tiring. They eventually came to something that looked like a reception area and the healer handed the PADD to a woman at the desk and pointed out an individual standing with his back toward them, gazing out at a brilliantly lit horizon.
She had expected a human from the Terran embassy, but instead she found Sarek.