Title: Delightfully Numb
Author:  mzsnaz
Series:  ST:  TOS
Category:  Angst
Rated:  PG
Summary:  An AU Sarek and Amanda story.  What if events early in their lives conspired to keep them apart?  My muse turned dark – this may not be for everyone, although I hope the ending will grant me a bit of absolution.
Disclaimer:  Star Trek is the property of Viacom and Paramount
------

Delightfully Numb


The memories flooded over him with a question, a slurred question over drinks at the `Last Call' Bar on Arteris Seven.  He'd made a point of avoiding the drunken diplomat sitting in a corner of the smoky establishment since he'd had enough of the nonsensical claim that his presence was essential.  It was increasingly obvious that he did not need to be there; however, if he hadn't been, he would not have been asked the question. "So, tell me, Vulcan, you ever have a romantic relationship with a human female?"

He'd not acknowledged that he'd heard the man, and only half-listened to the apologetic murmurs directed at him by others at his table.  His control was such that no one could have known how much the question cut through him – how much it surprised him when he silently answered. 

No, but I should have.  I should have.

----15 years earlier----

It had started innocently enough with polite introductions at the beginning of a dinner party honoring several retiring members of the Federation diplomatic corp.  Sarek and his father had grudgingly agreed to act as the Vulcan part of the well wishers, a task that generally was relegated to less senior members.  He'd first seen her in the grand estate of the Grayson family out of the corner of his eye, trying to make herself inconspicuous as the crowd swarmed about the ballroom making small talk.  A blond human male approached him, waving the woman to him in an insistent manner. "Good evening, I'm Graham Jacobson."  The man's lips curled into a weak smile, and then he motioned with a flourish toward the young woman, as if he were showing off a prized possession.  "This is my fiancée, Amanda.  She's one of the Boston Grayson's."

Apparently, this meant something to the humans.  Sarek bowed slightly to the young woman, who inclined her head, embarrassed judging from the crimson flush on her cheeks.  They said nothing to each other, but Sarek noted that as the evening progressed, they seemed constantly within each other's realm, drawn to each other in an inexplicable manner.  After several hours of diplomatic niceties, he excused himself and found his way to an empty balcony several stories above the city.  It did not surprise him when he saw her, silhouetted against the lights below, leaning against the railing.

"I'm beginning to think that you're following me," she said, her tone amused.  She was dressed in a simple, yet elegant, evening dress that hugged her curves and left little to the imagination.  On many women it would have been gauche; however, it flattered her slim figure. 

"I can assure you that I am not," he replied.  She sighed, and then suddenly clutched herself around her midsection.  Her action made him narrow his eyes in concern.  "Are you well?" he inquired.

"I'm – fine," she hesitantly said.  She gave him a grudging smile.  "I've been a nervous wreck since Graham announced our engagement."

"Is it not a pleasant occurrence to marry?" Sarek asked.  He watched the way her face stilled in thought.

"Yes, I suppose it should be," she slowly agreed.  A fluted glass filled with red wine sat near her, and she picked it up by the stem and sipped.

"You sound less than convinced."

Amanda cut her eyes at him from above the cup's rim.  "What does it matter?" she murmured, putting the drink down.  "It's a good marriage. Graham has a tremendous amount of charisma and charm, and I have the influential name."

"Is that all that you have?"

She appeared affronted.  "No, but it's important."

"The name is significant?"

"Very – at least to some in this region."

"It is not to you."

She grimaced.  "I had no choice in the matter, and I'm disappointed that it's so important to Graham."

"Humans put a tremendous amount of weight on their emotions," Sarek said, curious if she were truly as close to crying as she seemed.  "You appear distressed.  Perhaps you should reconsider the engagement."

Amanda's jaw dropped in surprise, and a slight gasp escaped.  "That's terribly presumptuous of you to make such a statement when we've just met," she angrily pointed out.

"I am merely suggesting that you do not seem pleased by the arrangement."

"How dare…"  Her voice trailed off as a drunken couple stumbled onto the balcony, seemingly attached at the lips as their hands roamed over each other wantonly.  Amanda immediately slipped back inside before being seen, but Sarek remained in the shadows for a moment.  He went inside after verifying the male's identity and found Amanda near the front entrance.

"Why did you leave the balcony?" he asked. 

She gave him a cool look. "I didn't want to see."

"You did not wish to observe the aberrant behavior of your fiancée."

"Shut up," she hissed, glaring up at his composed features.  "Just shut up and leave me alone."

"As you wish," he replied, turning away. 

She reached out and clung to his sleeve. "I'm sorry," she quietly said, releasing his arm.  "Don't leave."  They stood in the hall for a moment, listening to the ebb and flow of the crowd in the main part of the estate.

"It would be wise to disassociate yourself from a person incapable of loyalty," he softly said.  He watched her face crumple, but then by sheer force of habit, she replaced the look with a more pleasant façade.

"Graham told me that we're not married yet, and he has the right to do what he wants until then," Amanda said with little inflection. 

Sarek leaned slightly toward her, not certain of his motive. "And what of you?  Are you free to do what you want?"

It was a loaded question – a dangerous query to pose to one so vulnerable.  Amanda fiercely chewed her bottom lip as she thought of Graham – supposedly the catch of the East Coast – throwing himself at anything in a skirt.  It wasn't fair. She barely knew him, and what she did know was dispiriting.  Still, she'd agreed to the marriage, and there wasn't a thing she could do to change it since the news was plastered all over the nets.  To end the engagement now, only three weeks away from the big day, would bring disgrace to her family and to that damnable name everyone was so proud of.

"I can do what I want," she feebly replied, feeling the sting of the lie.  Closing her eyes, she leaned hard against the wall, letting the old plaster support her.  "If I want, I can indulge in any whim or indiscretion I want to.  What does it matter?"

"It matters because you do not actually believe it."

"I don't believe in anything anymore," she said, opening her eyes which were grimly assessing the person before her.  "I've been delightfully numb for years."

"You are distressed by the prospect of marriage.  Why is it that, as a human, you claim to feel nothing?"

"Aren't you really wondering why I can't be more selective?" she said, almost to herself.  "It's only a contract, and as my parents so kindly put it, it's a wonderful opportunity for Graham since he's such a fantastic young man."

"My observation of Mr. Jacobson's behavior does not bear out such an assessment."

"Neither does mine."

The crowd began to filter into the hallway, and in a split second decision, Amanda motioned to Sarek.  She led him into the private section of the estate reserved for family, past a dozen doorways and ornate wall decorations.  Entering a darkened room, she beckoned more urgently for him to follow her. 

"Do you have anywhere to be this evening?" she asked, her voice tremulous.  The automatic lights began to fill the room, and he realized that he was likely in her bedroom. He pursed his lips together.

"My father will leave when our shuttle arrives."

"When will that be?"

"One hour, six minutes."

She nodded, deep in thought.

"Amanda, it would be best if I returned to the hall."

"Please don't."  She suddenly chuckled.  "Do I really sound as desperate as I think I do?"

"I believe that you wish to talk."

He watched her relax and sit on the edge of her bed.  It was curious to him that he'd said what he did. What if there had been another motive?  What would he do if… but she motioned toward a chair nearby.

"Please don't feel obligated to stay, but it would be wonderful to talk with someone."

They talked like old friends for nearly the entire hour.  He told her about his Vulcan familial obligations that strangely mirrored her own circumstances.  The bonding with T'Rea had been arranged as was proper, and he would soon marry in a ceremony on Vulcan.  He gave no details, and she didn't know enough to ask.  Despite his lack of reservation at his own circumstances, he understood her belief that they were trapped in a menagerie of unspoken requisites and cultural proprieties that gave little thought to their own desires.  As their time together came to an end, Amanda quietly escorted him back to the hall.  Fortunately, the space was empty of guests, and they slipped back into the main area without notice.

"Sarek?" she whispered just as her father waved to get her attention.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for this evening," she said, giving him a warm smile.  "It helps to know that I'm not alone."

He watched her go to her father, who was regaling the few remaining guests with stories about the exploits of his family.  Graham was next to him and possessively put his arm around Amanda's shoulder once she was close enough.  Perhaps his judgment was erroneous, but Sarek sensed that the man's expression darkened when he looked in his direction.

He left the estate with his father, who merely raised an eyebrow at him when he insisted that all was well. 

The memory of the night stayed with him.


---10 years earlier ---


"Sarek?  Sarek, is that you?"

He turned at the sound of the woman's voice, a voice he instantly recognized.  The reception was winding down, and he'd believed that she hadn't traveled with Graham Jacobson, who had snagged a diplomatic post with few official duties thanks to his father-in-law's influence.  Immediately taking in her appearance, Sarek nodded his greeting as she grinned up at him.

"It has been five years," he solemnly said, not going into the exact day and time. 

She grimaced slightly at his greeting. "Has it been that long?  It doesn't seem possible."

"You appear… well."  He watched her smile fade, but then it seemed to rebound and she nodded.

"Thanks," she said, patting her distended stomach.  "I'm doing much better with this pregnancy than with my first.  No morning sickness."  Her brow furrowed at his stern look.  "I have a four year old daughter named Greta.  This little bundle is going to be a boy who, if I have my way, is going to be named Justin."

"The increase to family is most pleasing."

Amanda nodded, but she seemed lost in thought.  "Oh, yes.  Greta is absolutely brilliant – the smartest, brightest girl imaginable.  I guess all parents feel that way.  Graham is especially excited that we're having a boy next."  She bit her lip as she reconsidered what she'd said.  "That didn't come out right.  What I mean is that he loves Greta, but there's something about having a son that does something to a man."

Sarek frowned slightly at her statement, but she didn't seem to notice as she smiled up at him.

"Do you have children?"

Sarek nodded.  He thought he saw a flash of something in her eyes – something akin to disappointment?  "Yes.  I have a son named Sybok."

"That's wonderful!  Really, it is," she said, the last added almost as an afterthought.  They stood for a moment, awkwardly hesitant of how to continue.  The distraction of a tiny body in a white pinafore dress launching itself at Amanda's legs was welcome.

"Greta, my love," Amanda said, beaming as she bent down as best she could to the child's level.  "Please introduce yourself to Mr. Sarek."

Sarek's first impression was of blond curls and bright blue eyes on of one of the prettiest children, human or otherwise, that he had ever seen.  He also could see that she had her mother's smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Sarek.  My name is Greta," the child dutifully said, a childish lisp evident.

"Good evening, Miss Jacobson.  I am Sarek," the Vulcan replied.  The child enthusiastically grinned up at him, apparently pleased that he had spoken to her.

"Greta, why don't you go back to the play area," Amanda gently instructed, and the child curtsied smartly in his direction and scampered off.

"She is a well-behaved child," Sarek commented. 

Amanda chuckled. "That's high praise from a Vulcan."

"It appears that your initial concerns about marriage were unfounded."

Her humored appearance faded.  "I can honestly say that I love being a mother.  Greta and this new baby are my life."

"What of your relationship with Graham?"

"We're good."  It was a cool assessment, and Sarek didn't press.  At that moment, Graham came up from behind and put his hands lightly on Amanda's shoulder blades.

"Well, this doesn't surprise me," he said, his words slurred and low.

"Graham, don't," Amanda pleaded even as Sarek tilted his head in confusion.

"I don't understand your interest in this Vulcan." 

"We're just friends." 

The man laughed, the raucous sound startling several nearby diplomats with its unnecessary volume. "Sure you are," Graham said, pulling Amanda closer. 

Sarek forced himself not to react even though he sensed that the man had nearly caused her to lose her balance. "Mr. Jacobson, I can assure you…"

"You Vulcans think you're so high and mighty," the man sneered, seemingly staking his claim to his wife by placing his hands on her stomach.  "This is my wife, and this is my child.  Jealous?  Maybe you should be."

"Graham, stop this."

"It's time to go.  Get Greta."  Graham gave him a dark look before striding away.  Amanda took in a ragged breath.

"I'm so sorry about that," she said, cutting her eyes toward her husband's retreating back.  "He's not so bad, but I think he's indulged a bit too much tonight and that brings out the worst in him."

"Do you have a driver?"

Amanda gave him a harried nod, and then began to walk in the direction of the play area.  "Oh, don't worry, I'll drive.  We don't live far from here."

He watched her leave with Graham and Greta, a quick wave of her hand directed at him in such a manner as to not draw attention.

Another evening – another memory.


--- 6 years earlier ---

He spotted her near the buffet, gazing indifferently at the foods presented.  His approach was casual, and it took her a minute to realize that he was standing next to her.

"Sarek, how good to see you," she exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.  "I thought the Vulcan contingency had already left."

"I delayed my leave-taking," he said, offering no explanation. 

She smiled, although he noted that the pleased look didn't reach her eyes. "I'm glad that you did," she said, sounding vague.

"Is something amiss?"

He knew that something was wrong, but she seemed to shake off whatever was troubling and smiled again.  "No, I've just been thinking about the children."

"Greta and Justin?"

"Greta and Thaddeus," Amanda corrected, her smile becoming genuine at their mention.  "Graham and I thought it would be nice to name our son after my grandfather."

"The children are here?"  He couldn't explain his curiosity, but he did want to see the children, especially the previously unborn one.

"No, they're with the nanny."

Sarek frowned slightly.  Her tone was flippant, but he couldn't tell if it was because of his question, or because of the answer.

"That is unfortunate," Sarek said, drawing a look from her.

"They're such wonderful children," Amanda said, oblivious to her previous cool statement.  "Greta is absolutely gorgeous and at the top of her class.  Thad is such a joy – he's pretty much the male version of his sister."

"That reflects commendably upon their parents."

She nodded slowly.  "We really got lucky.  How is your son, Sybok?  Is he still your only one?"

"No," Sarek replied.  "My wife and I have a second son named Spock."

"I'm pleased to hear that," Amanda said.  There was an honest sincerity to her words that hadn't been present when she'd first heard that he was a father. 

Sarek inclined his head. "It seems that we have both been fortunate."

"Yes, we have."

They talked in the comfortable manner of friends about their children and lives.  Sarek had noticed as the evening drew to a close the swaying form of Amanda's husband, boisterously singing over an out of tune piano in the corner of the reception hall.  The man wasn't alone – a dark headed woman was hanging on his arm, laughing too loudly at his performance.  Amanda gazed over at the scene, and then looked down at the floor.

"I hate it when he makes a fool of himself," she said, for his ears only. 

Sarek leaned toward her. "Does he make a fool of himself often?" 

She hoarsely chuckled even as she convulsively swallowing to hold back the tears. "It's gotten worse this year."  She took in a deep breath.  "He wants to leave me for a younger woman – maybe that one, I don't know, he's had so many – but he can't stand the thought of losing what he's gotten by marrying a Grayson.  It's been so hard trying to keep things normal for Greta and Thad.  I don't want them to know how bad things are."

"Then, they are bad."  He didn't need her to answer, although he did not understand her comment about Graham leaving her for a younger woman.  Why would anyone leave her?

"Yes."  It showed in the stress lines around her eyes.

"Perhaps you should leave him."

She gazed up at him, questioningly, but then shook her head.  "I'd love to, but it would reflect badly upon my family."  She suddenly looked back down to the floor.  "Graham would make my life a living hell if I tried to leave.  He does love the children.  I'll keep trying to make it work."

They parted before Graham saw them together.  Sarek did not wish to agitate the tense situation between the couple by being seen with Amanda.  He watched her guide her stumbling husband out of the reception hall.  Just as before, she gave him a quick wave at the door.

It was the last time he'd seen her before the accident.


----Present----


The rehabilitation facility at Arteris Seven was well known by those in the medical community for one reason – the treatment of severely burned patients from across the Federation.  Sarek had tolerantly waited until a mission to the quadrant allowed him to make the short shuttle trip planet side.  Since there were other diplomats present, he suffered their company while he waited for the facility administrators to approve his visitation pass.  Privacy laws were such that it had taken all of his diplomatic pull to gain access, and now that the time had arrived, he sensed tremendous reluctance within himself.  There was no logic in seeing her.  There was nothing that he could do to change the horrific circumstances that had led to her confinement; however, he knew that he had to see her.

Fourteen months earlier, as he'd quickly skimmed over the usually trivial Terran newsnet feeds, he'd blinked in surprise when a name caught his eye.  He read the accompanying article with a growing sense of loss.

Flitter accident involves diplomat's family

Graham Jorgen, a senior diplomat with the UFP, and his family were involved in a late night accident near Boston that severely burned his wife, Amanda Jorgen, formerly Grayson.  Their two children, Greta, 13, and Thaddeus, 9, were rescued by their father only seconds before the flitter exploded.  According to Jorgen, who had been thrown clear from the flitter when it crashed, he pulled the children from the smoldering wreck and tried to go back for his wife, but the flitter exploded before he could rescue her.  She was burned over ninety percent of her body and is listed in grave condition.'

Sarek knew that it was unlikely that she would live more than a day or two; however, carefully concealed inquiries revealed that she had somehow survived the blast and had been sent to Arteris Seven.  With such limited information, he wasn't sure what to expect.  A nurse, one of the numerous arachnid species of the planet, guided him through the brightly lit hallway, and then paused at a door.

"Sir, have you visited with Mrs. Jacobson before?" she asked in a highly pitched voice, giving him a compassionate look.

"No, I have not."

"She's unable to speak or see; however, there is every indication that she can hear you."  The nurse, a member of the Caranon sect, folded her six arms in an exacting manner that Sarek understood as a form of sympathy.  "Scans have indicated that her synaptic nerve centers have begun to deteriorate and fail.  We've done all that we can."

"How long does she have to live?"

"Perhaps another month or so.  We've done all that we can."  The nurse skittered off to attend to other patients, leaving the Vulcan at the door. 

Sarek steeled himself with a series of meditative phrases, and then pressed the door release.  The room was dark, with the only light that of monitors that softly beeped and hummed.  As he entered, the recessed illumination slowly increased, allowing him to see the machinery that surrounded the solitary bed.  Approaching the bed, he paused and recited yet another meditative idiom.  It did not help.  The person in the bed could not be Amanda, and yet he knew that it was.  There was no way to recognize her – there was no physical resemblance to the person he once knew.  Forcing back his repulsed reaction, he sat in the lone chair by her bed and considered what to say.  He was a diplomat.  Words should not fail him, but he was unable to speak.  Finally, after listening to the steady rhythm of monitors for nearly five minutes, he broke the silence.

"Amanda, it is I, Sarek.  Are you able to hear me?  If so, nod your head."

As he watched the scarred lump of flesh for any sign of motion, he wondered if his request was too much for her.  How could he know if she were conscious?  Glancing at the door, he considered one way that he could find out; however, the nurse had said that her synaptic system was failing.  It could be dangerous to attempt a meld, but it might be the only way he could communicate with her.  Pushing his reservations aside, he reached for her, hoping that he could find the katra points based on where they should be. 

"My thoughts to your thoughts – my mind to yours."

At first, he believed he had failed.  There were no pathways that he could initially find that offered more than darkness and silence.  Finally, after adjusting his fingertips along her forehead, he found a spark of consciousness, a light that filled him and demanded only one thing of him - an answer.

//Are they alive?//

He filled his mind with images of the children taken from holopics found in the net feeds after the accident.  For a moment, he felt overwhelming relief wash over him, and then, inexplicably, he saw past events unfolding before him like a vid.  He was detached from the scene, floating above it all as the flitter flew along the road, far exceeding the limit.  He observed Amanda imploring Graham to slow down, but the man angrily ignored her.  The children were asleep in the back of the vehicle.  Suddenly, the flitter lurched and skidded sideways along the designated lane.  Sarek expected safety mechanisms to engage, but nothing happened.  The flitter careened off the roadway and plummeted down a ravine, coming to rest against a small grove of trees.  Screams – those of Amanda and a startled Greta – filled the air.  The flitter was on its side, with the only way out a passenger window that had opened once the vehicle came to a stop.  Warning lights flashed in the compartment – something was smoldering.  Amanda tried to move, but her right leg was wedged between the seats. 

"Graham!  Help!  Get them out!"

Sarek puzzled over what was happening. According to the net feeds, Graham had been thrown clear of the wreck; however, in Amanda's version, he was in the flitter, dumbly staring at his wife who frantically shook his arm.

"Graham!  Listen to me!  Get the children out of here – I'm trapped."

The man moved, pulling himself out of the vehicle. 

Amanda seized her hysterical daughter and shoved her toward the open window. "Graham!  Help me get Greta out!  Thad?  Honey, can you hear me."

Sarek could see the frightened girl struggling to pull herself up and out, and with an almost inhuman strength, Amanda pushed from below and the girl tumbled over the side.  She yelled through the window for the girl to get away from the flitter, and then she grabbed her son, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead and was unconscious.  Sarek again wondered at the malfunction of the safety devices on the flitter - why had so many of the systems failed?  And where was…

"Graham!  I need help with Thad. Graham?"

Sarek watched Amanda struggle to lift the boy, but he was deadweight and she wasn't able to move him.  Suddenly, a set of hands lowered themselves into the compartment, and a strange man pulled the boy out of the flitter.

"I'll be back in a second," the man insisted, disappearing over the side with Thad.  Amanda nodded, relieved that the children were out of the flitter, which was beginning to fill with acrid smoke.

Sarek wondered where Graham was during all of this.  Had he been injured in a manner that prevented a rescue attempt on his part?  If so, then why had he fabricated a story of his heroics?  Amanda struggled to release her leg just as the man reappeared in the window.  He strained to pull her free, but she was firmly held by the twisted seats.  A series of popping noises and fearful cries of `get back' were heard, and the man regretfully let go of her hand.  A look passed between them, and then he vanished.  She sank back into the flitter, desperately trying to find a way to free her leg even though it was helpless.  And then...

//And then there was an explosion, and fire, and it was all around me, burning me.//

Sarek carefully blocked the ghastly images and softened them into a distant memory, removing them from their place as her last recollection and replacing them with the future she had provided for her children thanks to her efforts.  He discovered that there was no moral dilemma presented even as he altered her perception.  She did not deserve to dwell on the accident, although it had given him a glimpse at the truth impervious of Graham's invention.  It was the truth that he planned to pursue once he left Arteris Seven. 

//Sarek?//

He froze, surprised by the questioning tone that thrummed through him. "Yes."

//I thought this was a dream.//

"It is not.  I am using a Vulcan technique called a mind meld."

//Thank you.//

He tried to mask his confusion at her appreciation, but then she elaborated.

//I didn't want to die alone.//

"You are not dying."

//I am.  There's no reason to hide it from me.//

He wondered at her knowledge, but then why should it be a surprise?  The nurse had said that she could hear, and a telling remark could have been casually revealed in the course of a day by a caregiver who had forgotten that fact.  It was easy to forget that she was still a person from her outward appearance.

"I have been told that you are suffering from synaptic nerve degeneration."

//How long do I have?//

"Perhaps two months; however, speculation is illogical."

A light seemed to appear in his thoughts – a quiet acknowledgement of reality.

//That's quite true, but it's something we humans do all the time – we speculate on what will likely happen.  We even like to speculate on what should have happened in our past.//

He did not pursue her line of thinking; he did not wish to pursue it.  It would be an unproductive exercise in futility.

//Thank you, Sarek.  It helps to know that I'm not alone.//

He knew that her statement was her way of telling him goodbye.  Reluctantly, he gently bid her farewell and removed his fingers from her face.  A sense of purpose filled him as he left her room – there would be an investigation into the circumstances of the flitter accident.  Too many inconsistencies were present that needed to be addressed, starting with the failed safety system.  Perhaps he would return to Arteris Seven and show her the results of his inquiry.

It was not to be.

--- Six years later------

A cold blast of Atlantic air pierced through his cloak as he made his way along the snow-covered pathway through the opened gate of the cemetery.  Above the gate was inscribed in bold letters `GRAYSON', a testament to those who would be permitted access to such hallowed ground.  Sarek silently wondered why he had not visited sooner, and in better weather.  There had always been the excuse – logically, why would one visit the place where a body is placed?  The person who resided in that fleshy shell was gone. Why go at all?  But now, he
sensed a need to visit, to see this last resting place that humans spoke of.  It was to be his final chance.

The cemetery was not large, but it took him some time to find the marker.  Snow and ice had filled in part of the inscription, making it difficult to read.  For reasons he couldn't name, he was pleased by the simple design.  There weren't any of the embellishments that some humans believed were necessary to preserve their memory.  It simply had her name, birth and death date, and at the bottom, a simple message - `Mom, we love you'.  It was a fitting tribute, he thought.  It was highly unlikely that they realized the degree of her devotion to them.

"Aren't you Mr. Sarek?"

He whirled around, dismayed that he had been advanced upon with such ease.  A young woman wearing a navy blue shawl that covered blond curls stood directly behind him, gazing curiously at him.  Her bright blue eyes searched his and seemed far too mature for her age.

"I am Sarek," he formally said.  The young woman nodded in such a familiar way.  "You are Greta Jacobson."

"Yes, I'm Greta," the woman said, smiling at the recognition.  "I remember you from when I was a little girl.  You called me Miss Jacobson, and I was so thrilled by that."

"Indeed," he intoned, finding himself unable to look away from the stunning young lady.  The resemblance to her mother was uncanny, although the girl was taller and her face more angular.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, moving past him to clear an area near the front of the marker.  She placed a small bouquet of fresh flowers on the spot where she had removed the hardened snow.

"I came to take my leave, for I have taken a permanent position on Vulcan," he offered, and then continued.  "I shall not return to Earth again."

"I see," she quietly replied, gazing hard at the marker for a moment.  When she looked up at him, he was surprised to see that she was near tears.  "I came for the same reason.  I don't know when I'll be back, if ever."

"You are leaving?"

"Yes, tomorrow," she said, almost too softly for him to hear.

"Where are you going?" he asked, appalled by his prying question, uncertain of why he had asked it.

"I'm leaving for one of the Andromeda colony worlds," she offered, her face suddenly lit with excitement.  "Last year, I met the most incredible man – he's a terraformer from there, and he was on Earth for a seminar.  I can't really explain it, but we hit it off immediately, and a few days later, he asked me to marry him.  I said yes."

"Does your family approve?" 

He knew the answer before she could respond.

"No, they're all outraged.  Dad is especially against it.  He says that if I leave, I'll get none of my inheritance."

Sarek hoped that he contained well his reaction to the mention of Graham Jacobson.  Despite the circumstantial evidence gathered that seemed to implicate him in disabling the safety mechanisms on the flitter, Sarek could not convince an attorney to touch the case once the name `Grayson' was uttered.  It had been disheartening, and when word reached him of Amanda's death three months after his visit, he found that his impetus to proceed was lost.  He had wanted justice, but that was not to be.

"Is it wise to reflect upon the counsel of one's elders," Sarek said, noting the frown on Greta's face.

"But, they want me to stay on Earth!  Dad, Grandmother, Grandfather."

"Perhaps you should.  Terraforming is a hazardous profession, and your life would not be a comfortable one."

She looked annoyed.  "I don't care about comfort!  I only want to be with Devon, and I don't care about my inheritance."

"You have stated that you barely know the young man.  It would be logical to allow time…"

"I know - I should get to know him better," she wearily said, her words sounding as if they were quite familiar to her.  "What better way to learn about someone than to be in an isolated space that will only grow as the terraforming proceeds?  It's really quite exciting and romantic."

"You are young, Greta, and you are not aware of the dangers."

"I know the dangers," she insisted dismissively.  Glaring at him, she folded her arms across her chest. 

He raised a challenging eyebrow at her show of obstinacy. "Space travel is inherently dangerous," he stated.

"Is this the advice you'd give your own children?"

"It is, and I have had a similar conversation with my youngest son."

Greta appeared surprised.  "Really?  What did he want to do that you objected to?"

Sarek's features tightened at the memory.  "He briefly considered a career with an organization I do not approve of.  Once he was reminded of his familial duties and obligations, he realized the folly of his ways and attended the Vulcan Science Academy, from which he graduated with top honors."

"Is he happy?"

Sarek raised an eyebrow.  "Happiness is an emotion.  My son knows his place."

He watched her thin shoulder blades droop at his pronouncement.

"I was told a similar thing.  As a Grayson, I should be more concerned about my family name than I am."  She swallowed hard.  "It's so difficult to know the right thing to do."

"If I may be so bold, Greta," Sarek said, capturing her eyes with his.  "If this conversation is enough to sway your decision, then it was not to be."

He watched her bite her bottom lip in thought – again, so like her mother.  She straightened, and a sense of determination settled on her. "You're right," she resolutely said.  "I'm going."  She touched the marker, and her voice quavered.  "Mom, I love you.  Goodbye."

Quickly, she walked away.  At the gate, she turned to face the lone figure still in the cemetery. "It was good to see you, Mr. Sarek," she called out, enthusiastically waving at him.  He noted that she didn't try – and didn't need to try – to hide her action.  "I hope you have a safe trip home."

"It was agreeable to see you also, Miss Jacobson," he answered.  "May your journey be equally safe and uneventful." 

When she was out of sight, Sarek turned to the marker.  Reaching out, he touched the smooth surface with his fingertips. "Goodbye, Amanda," he whispered.  "I trust that your daughter's illogical decision pleases you?"

A sudden gust of wind shook down some snow from a nearby tree.  With a sense of peace, he left the cemetery to prepare for his passage to Vulcan.


THE END