Title: Departure

Author: Aashlee Elizabeth

Series: ATOS

Rating: [G]

Codes: S, Sa, Am

Part: 1/1

Archive: FanFiction.net; Sarek & Amanda Yahoo Group. All others please inquire.

Summary: “Live long and prosper,” he told the administrators. What happened after Spock rejected his appointment to the Vulcan Science Academy? Insights into Sarek, Amanda, and Spock’s thoughts.

Author’s Note: To me, nuSarek in the 2009 movie was not as hard-nosed as his TOS counterpart was about Spock’s decision to take another path. This is written with that in mind.

DEPARTURE

He set a new life path with his “Live long and prosper.”

The administrators of the Vulcan Science Academy sat in stony silence. No one in the institution’s half-millennium history had ever declined an offer of admission. But the brilliant son of one of the planet’s most prominent citizens just did—rejected it, actually—turning his back on the board as he pointedly exited the great hall and walked out to the alcove at the Academy’s entrance.

There he stopped and waited. He knew his father, Sarek, would follow.

As expected, Sarek appeared, arriving more quickly than Spock anticipated. Without a word the two turned toward home, walking silently. It was late morning, and Vulcan’s mercilessly hot sun was beginning to break through the day’s abnormal haze. Spock’s long gait and breathing maintained a consistent rhythm, his eyes remained locked ahead. If others passed him on the walkway, he did not see them. His body had straightened, and his every movement focused on reaching home.

As they walked, Sarek replayed the previous scene in his mind. He analyzed Spock’s vocal inflections as he took his leave of the administrators. Few Vulcans were attuned to sarcasm, but Sarek, as a diplomat, had learned to listen for it in human speech along with the layers of meaning within. Spock had concealed several messages within the socially acceptable responses and phrases. Was it an illogical measure for Spock’s self-satisfaction, a youthful transgression? Confirmation one way or the other was not coming from his tight-lipped son, who, for this moment, remained impassive and unreadable.

Sarek declined to reprimand Spock. The administrator’s logic had clearly failed him in his choice of words.

Without breaking pace, Spock approached his family’s doorway. He touched the latch with more force than customary for him, barely waiting for the door to open before he strode in.

There was Amanda, at her desk in the front room, waiting for the news. The instant her two men walked in—Could Spock already be a man? she marveled—she knew that something had happened. It was not Spock’s habit to burst through doors. His dark eyes were hard, his jaw set. He had retreated into himself. And Sarek, somehow, appeared agitated. Something was not right. Normally she would have to pry it out of them. But Spock, without hesitation, walked up to her instead.

“I have declined the offer of admission,” he stated firmly, evenly.

During her many years on Vulcan, Amanda had learned to keep her expressions muted, but now her control disappeared into shock, then confusion. She glanced at Sarek, who nodded in affirmation. Amanda’s brow narrowed, her eyes demanded explanation, but Spock turned and decisively walked to his room, summarily closing the door behind him.

Her emotions blocked any sense she could make of this. Only this morning Spock had been concerned about being granted a VSA appointment. “Declined? Sarek, what happened?”

Sarek stood still. Words seldom failed him, and he fixed his eyes on a painting on the wall behind Amanda instead.

Despite living among Vulcans, Amanda had never lost her human intuition. She paused, her confusion transforming into sadness. “It has to do with me, doesn’t it?” she asked softly.

Illogical as it was, meeting her eyes was difficult. There was nothing Sarek could tell her that she had not already deduced herself. Years of diplomacy and discipline had taught him to keep his own counsel when an inflammatory comment sat ready on his tongue. And now, with his distaste for the administrator’s unnecessary words, he needed to heed the wisdom harvested from that experience.

Inside, Amanda’s heart could not help but well up with more love for her son, and she wanted nothing more to comfort him from yet another hurt. She now worried about his future. The repercussions from refusing a VSA appointment surely carried a stigma that could last a lifetime, and Vulcan lifespans were long. “I’m not sure I want to ask what happens now. Did he say anything to you?”

“No.”

Of course not. Spock would face this as he had faced these situations throughout his life. Again.

-o0o-

On his computer console, Spock accessed the communiqué that arrived the night before:

FROM: STARFLEET ACADEMY ADMISSIONS

RE: APPLICATION—ACCEPTED

His application to Starfleet Academy had mystified his parents. Although Sarek and Amanda knew that Spock would be accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy, they believed that Spock submitted the Starfleet application to avoid the appearance of arrogance. An appointment to the Vulcan Science Academy was by no means guaranteed. However, the probability was high for an individual with Spock’s exceptional mind and impressive record of achievements.

Even so, Spock had taken his application more seriously—as he did with everything—and expressed genuine interest in Starfleet Academy’s academic opportunities. Many of the best minds in the galaxy taught there. The research facilities rivaled the Vulcan Science Academy’s, perhaps surpassed them. He had visited Earth and several other worlds when Sarek brought Amanda and him along on diplomatic missions. Spock found his off-world experiences fascinating, and Starfleet offered many off-world opportunities that the VSA did not. Despite explaining these advantages to his parents, they doubted that Spock would accept a place there if one were offered. No Vulcan had ever attended Starfleet Academy.

However, as Spock reminded the administrator earlier, he was half-Vulcan.

Spock collected his thoughts and reevaluated his state of mind. Was he angry? The administrator had suggested it. But, no, his mental state was closer to frustration. He simply had no more patience for the illogic of societal and racial rigidity. Whatever he achieved, at the Vulcan Science Academy or anywhere else on Vulcan, it would always be tainted with an illogical mention of his human ancestry that he, himself, could do nothing about.

Spock had been weighing his choices for the last few weeks, and it did not take much to tip his decision toward Starfleet Academy, even this late in the process. The Vulcan Science Academy was renowned and respected for its collective of scientific minds, but in its rigor it was inflexible. Spock valued discipline and protocol, but he often contemplated whether his natural, sometimes intuitive curiosity would be well-matched to the VSA’s academic culture.

The sides of his duality fought a never-ending battle between living an ordered life in an ordered society and the desire to explore and discover. No matter how much he meditated, he remained restless. Although Vulcan was his home, he never felt at home here—at least not outside the confines of his parents’ house. Could he be content spending the rest of his life on one planet? Or was his place elsewhere?

Spock reread the communiqué, keyed in his acknowledgment, and sent it.

There, it was done.

Instantly his mind calmed as he set this new course, his own course. He left his desk to inform his parents of his decision.

-o0o-

For the last four Standard weeks, Spock focused on nothing else but preparing for his trip to Earth and the commencement of studies at Starfleet Academy. Earlier, on his own, he had contacted Starfleet Admissions to arrange for transport via a Starfleet research vessel that would be making a stop at Vulcan on its way back to Earth. It was scheduled to arrive the next day. Because of Spock’s already comprehensive science background, Starfleet assigned him to assisting ship scientists and lab staff with their duties while the ship made its week-long return. Upon arrival, he would travel to Academy headquarters and take his place with the new class of cadets.

It had been a long four weeks for Amanda. She missed her son. When Spock was not outdoors working on an accelerated physical training regimen, he was in his room researching Starfleet Academy in greater detail. He reviewed coursework, physical training expectations, regulations, instructor rosters and backgrounds, and academic expectations. He adapted his own study to meet Academy requirements as he learned about them. Except for occasional meals and to attend to hygiene in the home’s sanitary facilities, Amanda hardly saw him. On the rare instances when both Sarek—who had also been quieter and more distant—and Spock were out of the house, she cried secretly.

She had always quietly loved and supported her son, but tomorrow Spock would be gone. This impending reality overwhelmed her, and she made a decision. She refused to allow Spock to spend his last evening on Vulcan apart from her.

She marched up to Spock’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Enter,” he said.

She opened the door to find that he had already packed, his bags at the foot of his bed. That was enough the break the last tendril of emotional control that she had, and she burst into tears.

Few times had Spock seen as strong an emotional display from his mother, human though she was. “Mother, why are you crying?” The question was direct, but the tautness in his face softened.

“Spock, you know why.” She would not let him hide behind a Vulcan shield. Not today.

But he persisted. “I have outlined my rationale for this decision—twice. You and Father…”

She interrupted. “I did not come here to argue. You do not need to defend your choices. You know that I will always support you.” She caught her breath. “I came here to be with you while you are still here. I do not know when I will see you again after tomorrow. I will worry about you.”

Spock relaxed his tight shoulders a bit. “Mother, why will you worry? Worrying is…”

“Illogical, I know,” she returned. “But logic seldom applies in a mother’s love and concern for her son.”

“Mother…”

“I knew that someday you would be off on your own. I just never thought it would be so soon, and that you would be going so far away.” She sat on the edge of his bed. He continued to sit at his desk. “I will miss you.”

Spock swallowed and nodded. Even this reaction spoke volumes to Amanda. Right now he looked so young. He put on a brave face, but there was also a vulnerability that he would, no doubt, keep well-hidden or suppressed.

“I just remember when you were eight years old, and we visited my family. Your cousins were nice to you, but you were always so confused by them. Every night before we went to sleep, you asked me a dozen questions about everything that happened during the day, their human behavior, your grandfather’s reaction when you took apart the comm station…”

“I did return it to its original state,” Spock said.

“Yes, yes, yes, you did … but that’s not my point,” she smiled, though wiping away a tear. “I was there to assist you in navigating the intricacies and nuances of human interactions.”

How long had she lived on Vulcan? That last sentence sounded like one of Sarek’s.

She continued. “In non-Vulcan English, I was there for you. But tomorrow you are going to Earth on your own. Letting go … this is a difficult thing for any mother.”

Spock considered her concerns. “Mother, I am not eight years old. I have improved my skills for interpreting human behaviors.”

“Interpreting them and dealing with them are two different things. I have confidence that you will figure that out. And I have no doubt that you will do well at Starfleet, even if it is run by ‘illogical humans.’” She smiled again at that last phrase. The luggage on the floor grabbed her attention again, and she stood up. “You’re already packed? It does not look like much.”

“I will not need much,” he said, rising from his chair. “The Academy provides all uniforms.”

“Yes, I am sure that it does.” Suddenly, standing next to him, she realized how tall he had grown, how his features had matured. He no longer had the round face of youth. She reached up and gently touched his face along the neck and jaw line. He did not pull away as he would have normally. Instead he looked gently into her eyes, and her throat closed as sadness threatened to force a sob. “Spock, permit me,” her voice cracked, as she wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug.

Usually he stiffened at such encounters, but he let her hold him as tears streamed down her cheeks. Both knew that this kind of embrace would never happen again. And so they stood.

Neither of them knew that Sarek had witnessed the scene from the hallway. As silently as he had come upon them, he left them to their private moment. He walked out to the patio, surveying the last glow of twilight as it fell on the red rock outcroppings in the distance.

As Spock had prepared for his studies during the preceding weeks and Amanda had tried to hide her despair (he knew she cried in secret), Sarek remained silent on the matter. Shortly after Spock’s appearance and subsequent rejection, each member of the admissions board pointedly expressed to Sarek that they did not understand Spock’s illogic at suddenly making another choice after the hours spent before them reviewing credentials and records. Sarek countered that Spock’s choice was indeed logical, as the administrator had made clear Spock’s ultimate “disadvantaged” status at the end. Spock’s record proved otherwise, and it supported Spock’s clear thought on his choice.

When Spock accepted admission to Starfleet Academy, it started another round as board members subtly expressed disapproval that a prodigy would consider attending a less prestigious institution.

The intensity of their Vulcan-centric views disquieted Sarek, who ascribed to the philosophy of infinite diversity in infinite combinations. As an ambassador, he saw the benefits that diversity of talents and resources created on other worlds. That members of his own world could look down on off-world concerns as inferior troubled him.

Disturbing, too, were the new insights into the walls that Spock had encountered his entire life.

He could not discuss these matters with either Spock or Amanda. He wanted them to be left in peace. And, so, Sarek protected his family from the intrusions of illogic, leaving mention of them outside his door.

He had always told Spock that he would have to choose his own way—and he had. Although he assured Amanda that Spock would adapt, as he himself had when he was assigned to Earth, he remained unsettled. As a diplomat, he always had the weight of the Vulcan embassy behind him. Spock would have little support as the only Vulcan cadet at Starfleet Academy.

He made a mental note to seek out assignments that brought him and Amanda to Earth in the next three years. For Amanda’s sake.

-o0o-

“Are those your bags, son?” the human shuttle pilot asked.

“Yes, sir,” Spock replied, handing them over for packing the craft’s hold along with the scientific equipment already loaded there.

It was time to leave.

Spock faced his parents, raised his hand, and parted his fingers. “Live long and prosper.” No sarcasm this time.

Sarek and Amanda faced their son, each with an encouraging nod. Sarek mirrored the salute. “Peace and long life, Spock.”

That was it. Spock turned and ascended the ramp to the shuttle’s entry hatch. A Vulcan would not have looked back, but halfway up the ramp, Spock turned and took one last look at his mother. She had not moved from where she stood—and Sarek had not suggested that they should leave. He knew better. Her eyes are wet.

Spock returned his attention toward the shuttle. He projected an outward calm, walked confidently and directly. But moisture blurred his vision just a little as he stepped through the hatchway to take his seat.