The Light of Distant Skies (gen, PG-13) Part 2
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Location: Baker Beach
Time: 1530 hours
By 1530, the sun is breaking through the clouds, auroral sheets of light illuminating the slight whitecaps in the bay. Baker Beach is nearly deserted, the morning's chilly fog having chased off all but a few runners and dog-walkers. It's a public beach, but close enough to Starfleet that the sight of a uniformed officer and a robed Vulcan attracts no stares.
Winona had surprised herself by suggesting the beach walk; Sarek had surprised her by accepting. What she needs to discuss is awkward at best, inflammatory at worst, and highly personal to boot. It seems easier to be moving, and at least she doesn't have to look directly into Sarek's eyes.
"I don't understand. You expressed no such reservations this morning. Has new research come to light?"
Winona shakes her head, a little angry with herself. Sarek's question is a polite reminder that he supported Federation policy--supported her--through the long morning, even though he holds no official position that requires him to. It was rash, running to Sarek before she'd had a chance to formulate a reasoned argument.
"No. But I looked back through the subcommittee minutes over the past six months. Federation support for the Teslau project has been consistent and heavily skewed in one direction."
"Toward the more militarily inclined of your colleagues." Sarek seems as serenely unconcerned as ever, but then he wasn't a diplomat for nothing.
"Under the circumstances, the Federation's motives for wanting the project to proceed can hardly be pure."
At that, Sarek smiles faintly. "You hold us to higher standards than we do ourselves. I ask you, what would constitute a selfless motive in this case? The desire to restore Vulcan without profiting the Federation? To fulfill the desires of individuals, without benefiting the whole?" Sarek stops, and turns toward her. "Commander, I say this with the greatest respect for your mental faculties and your conscience, but the arguments you heard this morning against the Teslau Project were but a shadow of those that have been underway on New Vulcan for many months. The truth is that our civilization is dying--not from lack of resources, but lack of progress. Our energies are wholly devoted to preserving the memory of what we had, trying to revive institutions that grow less relevant with each passing day. If Vulcan culture is to move forward, it requires a new generation, one not in thrall to the past but one open to the possibilities of the future."
Winona drops her head and looks at where her booted heel makes a furrow in the soft sand. "The first lesson of being a parent. It hadn't occurred to me that it applies to planets as well."
"It is a unique gift of humanity, this eternal optimism concerning change. We have a great deal to learn."
Winona looks into Sarek's deeply etched face and sees a reflection of her own. To others, she supposes, it looks like wisdom, but in her own mind she's as young and uncertain as ever when it comes to decisions that affect other people's lives.
"But it's humanity that's always looking for eternal youth."
"Yes, exactly." Sarek holds out his hands, palms raised, as if he's just proved a point to a particularly hard-headed opponent.
Winona throws her head back and laughs, feeling the wind catch in her hair. She's eager to continue the walk, to keep the Presidio at her back and Sarek beside her for a while longer. When she takes a step her boots scrunch into the sand again.
"Oh, the hell with it." She bends down to unfasten them, and Sarek offers a steadying arm. The sand feels wonderful between her toes, cool and moist. "I don't suppose you have a scientific interest in harbor seals, Sarek?"
He inclines his head and smiles faintly. "The phenomenon of marine mammals is a novel one to me."
Winona knows a Vulcan yes when she hears it. "Let's walk a little further down the beach, then."
Location: South Campus, Sciences Quad
Time: 1715 hours
Jim Kirk walks with an abbreviated version of his usual long strides, perhaps because he has nowhere to go. The meeting that he is about to miss is in the opposite direction. Spock, too, has many obligations this afternoon, but has already decided to forgo them in the hope that Jim will share whatever is on his troubled mind.
They walk without speaking, but never in silence. Jim communicates clearly that he is gravely concerned about something, something with serious consequences beyond his own desires or career. Spock indicates, by his posture and the angle of his head, that he is more than willing to listen but will not force the issue, as he understands that there are things that Jim must keep in confidence.
For weeks, the campus has been humming with gossip concerning Starfleet's long-delayed decisions on the captaincy of its two most important vessels. Spock has heard a theory that Kirk will be left in command of the Enterprise to exploit his singular tactical gifts, and another that he will be moved to the new flagship, the Excelsior. He has heard it claimed, in whispers, that Kirk will be given command of the whole fleet. Kirk himself has not lobbied in any direction, preferring to expend his political capital on the increasingly unpopular cause of peace with Romulus. It is apparent to Spock that what will make Jim happiest is also what will make him most successful, but Jim has not actually asked for Spock's opinion.
"Hey." Jim points in the direction of the Bluffs Trail. "Isn't that Sarek?"
Jim is quite correct; the shape of his head and the lines of his surcoat are plain even at this distance.
"Yes. And he appears to be with your mother."
Jim pulls up short and squints. Dr. McCoy has been insisting he receive surgery to correct his vision, but Jim has thus far denied the necessity.
"What are they doing?"
"I believe they were both in attendance at this morning's Subcommittee on Population hearings." Spock does not point out that the meeting was held in the Newton building, on the other side of the campus.
"They're walking awful close, don't you think?"
"My father is a social being, by Vulcan standards. He has had little companionship since the death of Sahn'pel."
Kirk shoots him a look of suspicion before turning back to stare at the approaching figures. "Well, he should have plenty to keep him busy when he has a grandkid on the way. Not to mention a daughter-in-law--two daughters-in-law? How does that work again?"
"Vulcans do not recognize a difference linguistically between biological and legal kinship. Sarek calls both my wives his daughters. As a purely hypothetical example, if he were to marry your mother, you would be my brother, Nyota your sister, and any children--"
"I get it!" Jim throws up a hand to stop him. "Speaking of Saiehnn, I'd really like to see more of her, as long as we're all here. I've got a couple more meetings to go to, but are the three of you free for a late dinner?"
"Regrettably, we have an obligation at 2000 hours. Saiehnn has agreed to perform on the lyre for a student gathering."
"Not that astronomy club thing?" Spock nods. "Bones was trying to get me to go to that. Jo's an officer of the club." Jim looks less than excited by the prospect. Spock merely waits. "Oh, all right. We'll stay as long as we have to and then get out, okay? Good."
By now, they are in hailing distance of Sarek and Winona, who are deep in conversation and have not seen them. Jim plots a course to intercept.
Location: Cai Xitao Community Gardens
Time: 1831 hours
Hikaru leads Pavel down to the hidden corner of campus where the public gardens are located. They're comprised of a series of square plots arranged around the new biodome built a few years back. Pavel gives a low whistle at the soaring arches of the glittering plasteel structure, built with recovery funds from the Federation in a bid to ensure that post-Narada, the Academy would remain an attractive option to future recruits.
They spot Kirk and Spock while en route, heads bent together in some intense conversation. Pavel entertains the passing thought that he might pump them for information, but their expressions seemed to discourage it.
Hikaru keys in his code to the little storage shed near the community plots and emerges with two impossibly tiny pairs of shears and an eyedropper.
"Want to help?" he asks, offering them to Pavel. “Today is pruning day.”
Pavel's lip curls involuntarily at the thought. "Only if you want them to die."
Sulu shrugs and returns a pair of the shears to its shelf. Pavel follows obediently until they reach a series of hydroponic beds holding a number of plants about six centimeters tall, their delicate purple fronds shivering in the light breeze.
Hikaru’s attention is soon focused solely on his charges, his fingers handling them with the same studied intensity as when he's bringing a ship out of spacedock. A shock of dark hair falls into his eyes, evidence that a haircut has fallen to the bottom of his to-do list. After about two minutes, Pavel gets tired of watching and drops to the ground, then pulls out his communicator to check his messages.
A comfortable quiet settles over them, broken only by the chatter of the other occupants of the garden. Pavel has nothing to do at this point, so he just listens to Hikaru work and absentmindedly watches the sun make its steady progress across the sky. His eyes drift shut every now and then as his body focuse on processing the heavily spiced Deltan meal they indulged in for lunch.
"I’ve been offered a position with Arboritas-the interplanetary seed bank,” says Hikaru. His eyes widen a bit in surprise, as if his mouth just acted without permission. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you like that.”
Pavel blinks sleepily. "But that is good news. Why are you upset?"
"If I accept their offer, I'll have to resign my commission."
Of course. Hikaru can't work for an interplanetary operation and be at the beck and call of Starfleet at the same time. Taking his interest in botany from hobby to profession is something Hikaru always aspired to-Pavel should be happy for him.
But what comes out of his mouth is, "You're leaving me?"
Hikaru turns to look at Pavel, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. "Pavel...I’ve been looking for a way out for a while now. You've said it yourself--there's a good chance we'll be butting heads with Romulus this time next year, and I don’t think I’ve got another military engagement in me. This is the perfect opportunity to leave with my dignity intact.”
“You had time away-you left for three years, to teach." Pavel tries to keep his voice light, but he knows he's failing. He can handle giving up the Enterprise or Hikaru, but not both.
The little vein jumping at the corner of Hikaru's jaw broadcasts his irritation loud and clear. “I'm not you, Pavel, and I'm not Kirk. What if I want a house one day, or a job that doesn’t involve brushes with certain death every minute, or a family, even? Not everyone can live on science and adventure alone.”
Pavel's eyes narrow in suspicion. "You said the same thing the last time you left."
"Yeah, but this time I'm serious, and I won't let you lure me back with your advanced skills in the art of seduction."
"Tch. I am a scientist. I would never stoop so low."
"We don't have to live in each other's pockets forever to keep being friends,” he replies, adding a punch on the shoulder for emphasis. "I'll take that position with Aboritas, and you'll do whatever it is you're going to do. And we'll both be fine."
Pavel sets his communicator into the grass, his face serious."I think...that I will go to the Neutral Zone. If they ask me."
"What?” Hikaru's surprise is written all over his face.
“I hate it down here. It's always, 'Commander Chekov, you can use this lab from 0800-1300 on Tuesday and Thursday only, but not the second Tuesday, when our guest scholars are coming in. Commander Chekov, you are very suited to be chair of this department, but not so much as this man whose company just developed our newest phaser banks. Commander Chekov, we really don’t consider it a waste of your time to teach that intro course on non-Federation tracking relays.'" He pauses to catch his breath. "I want my own lab, and to be supervisor of my own department, and I want it to be many light years away from these idiots who haven’t spent any time in zero-g since they were in reds."
"Yeah, but...this won't be another exploratory mission, Pavel. This is serious."
"Then they will seriously need someone to keep them in check, correct? And if--if there is a reason we need to be out there, then I want to be involved. You can wait at home with the dog and kids for my triumphant return."
Pavel's comm beeps, and he pulls it out to see the flashing reminder of the memorial viewing.
"That ceremony is starting soon--should we go?" It's a small student event, and there probably won't be many other people there. But all the same, Vulcan's disappearance is not something he necessarily wants to relive.
"I think you'll regret it if you don't."
Hikaru offers Pavel a hand up from his seat on ground. Pavel will never admit it, but after numerous away missions that involved camping in less-than-favorable conditions, his knees aren't quite what they used to be.
The shears are returned to their proper location, and Hikaru spends a moment at the little industrial sink washing the dirt from beneath his fingers. The water is still running long after the last remnants of dirt have swirled down the drain, which makes Pavel worry-more than a decade on a starship tends to make one resource-conscious. Maybe Hikaru hasn't taken his decision so well after all. Pavel reaches for the tap's manual kill-switch, but Hikaru grabs him by the wrist.
"Just be careful out there, okay?" There's a seriousness in his eyes that makes Pavel uncomfortable. "Try not to pull too many heroic stunts while I’m not around to watch your back."
Pavel gently retrieves his hand, and makes his best effort to call up a reassuring smile. "If you were anyone else, I'd point out that I've logged 24 percent fewer hours in sickbay than most officers my age. But since it's you, well--okay. I promise to be careful."
Location: Founder's Walk, Central Campus
Time:1904 hours
Winona and Sarek exchange greetings with their own sons and each others' in the Vulcan manner, with inclined heads and knowing smiles. Winona forbears giving Jim a kiss on the cheek.
"James, I am pleased to see you. I anticipated you would be at the Riverside Shipyards."
Jim twitches a little. "No, sir. I have plenty to keep me busy here."
"Indeed. I am not surprised to find all the Enterprise crew making itself useful. For example, you, my son, are serving on the Biocomputing Grant Review Board. Is there a not a meeting at this very moment?"
"Yes, father, but--"
"Then it would be wise for you to proceed there quickly. Professor X'an does not like tardiness." Spock's glance slides from Sarek to Jim and back again. Winona feels sympathy, but not so much that she isn't amused.
"Yes, of course."
"Very good. I will accompany you, as I have matters to discuss with X'an, and she can be exceedingly difficult to locate." Sarek turns and gives a parting bow. "Winona. James. I anticipate our future meetings with pleasure." Winona and Jim bow in turn and watch their retreating backs.
"Since when does Sarek call you 'Winona'?" The way Jim is wrinkling his nose takes twenty years off his face, maybe more.
"We're going to be working closely together. That's a good enough reason, isn't it?"
"So you're going to say yes to Teslau?" He looks away, not before she catches his frown.
"I haven't decided yet, but I'm leaning that way. Why? Have you heard anything bad about it?"
"No, no." The way he adjusts his expression puts her on alert. "You're the right person, of course. I hope they know how lucky they are, after the way they've treated you. Where are we walking, by the way?"
"I don't-- I thought you--"
Jim grins and steers her toward a park bench. The sun has won its battle with the clouds and is shining on the brilliant blue bed of salvia beside them.
"Teslau is controversial as hell, and not just on Vulcan." He stretches out his long legs and tilts his head back, enjoying the warmth. "I hope they offered you something more than the usual generous pension contribution."
Winona is glad for the opening. "Nothing that'll put a new roof on the house, but something they knew I'd like. Jim, Admiral Kansai told me it could be another month before they announce any personnel decisions for the Excelsior."
Jim stifles a curse. Winona wraps a hand around his wrist with the easy familiarity of parenthood that never seems to fade.
"I know," she says. "The waiting is killing me; I can't imagine what it's doing to you. Well, I have some idea. Instead of just sitting around waiting...you can escort me to New Vulcan. Kansai is quite pleased with his idea, apart from how it pleases me. They're going to send the Gillani. I've been on it before. It's a nice ship. And you'd be doing something useful."
"As opposed to what I'm doing here?" The frown returns.
"Oh, you know what I mean. Sending someone of your stature is a mark of respect, and it'll create confidence in the program. The Vulcans like you. And I'll say it again: you could use time away from this place."
"A controversial science mission to a remote planet isn't my idea of R&R, and I doubt the Vulcans would appreciate my thinking of it that way." He scowls and picks at a loose thread in his trousers. Winona wonders for the first time if his gloom over the past few weeks is more than just a heritable dislike of being stuck planetside.
"If you're doing something to benefit others, is it so wrong if it benefits you, too? If that's so, you'll have to blame me for wanting to share this with you. It's creating new life, Jim. Believe me, that counts for something."
"I've never been so glad that Sam decided to have kids early."
She doesn't have to work up much of a glare before Jim's stubbing his heel against the leg of the bench, looking penitent.
"Okay. Okay. I'll definitely consider it. And if I don't go, it'll be because--well, it won't be because I don't trust your advice. You always make me feel better about other people's idiocy."
"Whose idiocy are we talking about? The Admiralty's? You know I don't give you professional advice because I don't know what it's like to be in your position, and I don't have access to the same information you do. But I appreciate the gravity of the decisions you have to make. Coming with me to New Vulcan isn't as important as that."
"But that's the thing--it should be. That's what Starfleet should be doing: using all this science and technology to make things better for living beings. It's turned into this interstellar chess game, and half the time I don't know if I'm a player or one of the pieces."
He rubs his palms together and stares at the ground, and she can see the tension in his shoulders, feel it radiating off him. The part of her that wants to keep him from danger and worry is tempted to beg him to come with her to New Vulcan, but at best it would be a temporary solution.
After a few minutes of watching him from under her lashes, she says, "You busy tonight? Care to buy an old lady dinner?"
"I'd love to, but I've got plans with Spock, and--shit, I've got Jo McCoy's astronomy club thing at 2000. I don't suppose you want to go? It would make Bones happy. Not that you can ever tell."
"Anyone can tell he's happy when Jo's around. It's wonderful they've been able to spend these few months together, before--well, before whatever happens," she concludes, not before Jim's expression has turned dark. "I'd be happy to go, and you should be too." She pats his knee, bony and hard under the gray wool of his uniform pants. "It'll make you feel better I promise."
Jim squeezes her hand briefly before moving it off his knee and rising slowly to his feet. "I should just save myself trouble and take all your advice." He squints into the sunshine. "Tell you what--I'll go to Jo's thing, but I'll meet you there. I need to stop by Cochrane Hall."
Location: Archer Pavilion, North Campus
Time: 1945 hours
"Why are there single-use cups? People should know to bring their own cups." Linh frowns at the refreshment table as one of the little cup-towers tips over in the breeze and rolls to a stop at her feet. "I told you we should have rented a tent. Stellar Cartography would've paid for it if we'd asked."
Jo McCoy concentrates on keeping her voice neutral. "I thought we should be prepared for drop-ins, and it's not going to kill us to have to deal with the elements for a while." She doesn't blame Linh for the stress that's adding to her usual obsessive attention to detail. What started as a simple idea to recruit new club members, has turned into the only official memorial for Vulcan on the Academy campus.
Linh is good with instruments but has little talent for people, so this entire event sets her on edge. The Ceremony of Remembrance had been Jo's idea, but they all worked to cobble together the resources necessary to build a space telescope capable of broadcasting an image of Vulcan down here on Earth. From the corner of her eye she notices Oye, their technical officer, introducing Chekov and Sulu to Kileia, a first-year cadet from Orion who's their newest recruit. She's brilliant but as aggressively assertive as all the other overachievers in the club, so Jo is tickled to see that she looks more than a little intimidated.
A moment later she sees her father striding across the quad. It's an incredible luxury having him on campus, and she's been enjoying every moment, dropping by his lab when the mood takes her, asking for his help with homework assignments when the fact is she's doing fine--really well, actually--without him. Sooner or later he'll be flying off, or she will, and she doesn't want to have taken this time for granted.
"Hi, baby girl." She refuses to blush, although Linh looks away. She introduces him around to the other members, and they're trying hard not to look impressed, a sure sign that they are.
"Thanks for coming. Is Captain Kirk going to be here?"
"He said he'd try, but he's got a lot on his plate right now."
"Admiral Pike will be," Linh says, impossible to stop.
"Well, well. We're going to be quite an august crowd. I'd better take a seat while I can. Jo, you let me know if I can do anything for you."
"I will." People are beginning to filter in from all parts of the campus: cadets and professors, as well as a handful of Starfleet bureaucrats.
She turns to see Saiehnn approaching, flanked by Spock and Uhura. Saiehnn wears a dark brown dress with embroidered gold accents in the current Vulcan style, with a barrel-shaped bodice that looks stiff and uncomfortable. It was Jo who first approached Saiehnn about participating in the ceremony. It wasn't difficult; she thinks of the Enterprise's bridge crew as her aunts and uncles, a conceit from childhood she's never quite given up. That makes Saiehnn her aunt by marriage, as well as closer to her age than her father's.
Saiehnn glances at the stage in what might be apprehension, and Uhura wraps a gentle hand around her forearm as Spock hands her the lyre. It makes Jo's heart beat with nervous sympathy, and she almost regrets asking Saiehnn to do something that's bound to bring more unwanted attention. She's already a subject of curiosity--all three of them are, so famous and so attractive by the standards of their species, and with the circumstances surrounding their relationship unusual enough to set Starfleet gossip in motion.
"Saiehnn." Jo keeps her hands folded in front of her, remembering her Vulcan manners, and Saiehnn lowers her head in turn. Joanna sees that her hair is intricately plaited, something that must have taken hours to do. A little voice in her head whispers that she should have done more than just pull her own hair back into a hasty ponytail. "Thank you again for being here. You look--" she meets Saiehnn's dark, glittering eyes and is flustered. "You look beautiful."
"My attire is appropriate for the occasion." She gestures toward the stage. "Do you wish me to be seated?"
"Yes, please. There's Sentek--he's going to read the Van-Kal t'Vokau." Sentek is the president of the Vulcan Student Union, and looks quite a bit happier to be the focus of attention than Saiehnn does, if Jo is any judge of Vulcan facial expressions.
Saiehnn simply nods and makes her way to the stage. She stops to exchange a few polite words with Sentek before settling into her chair and focusing on her instrument, a small frown on her face as she turns the tuning pegs back and forth.
"Don't worry," Uhura says quietly, whether to Spock or Joanna, she isn't sure. "She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to do this."
Joanna takes the thought to heart. The concept of Vulcan stoicism strikes her sometimes as a lazy generalization, an excuse not to care about Vulcans' suffering more than they seem to care about it themselves. Joanna was barely six years old at the time of the Destruction, and can't imagine what it must have been like for Saiehnn, who had to be evacuated from her school.
The seats are three-quarters full now, and Joanna recognizes signs of near-panic in Linh as she stage-directs while frantically waving for Oye and Joanna.
"Joanna?" A strong hand catches her arm.
"Commander Kirk!" It's been years since she's seen Jim Kirk's mother--not since the Enterprise's first refitting, when Jim invited the bridge crew and their families to a weekend in Riverside. That's apparently good enough for the commander, who gives her a quick hug before turning her to face her companion.
"Joanna, this is Ambassador Sarek; Sarek, Dr. McCoy's daughter, Joanna. A very promising astronomy student, and I've heard that from more than just your father, so you don't need to give me that look."
Joanna just barely manages to ignore the churning in her stomach so she can stutter out a greeting. Kirk's mother. Spock's father.
"Can you please stop socializing and help us?" Linh's voice is low but stinging. "We need more chairs, and Oye's having problems with the telescope signal." The last thing she sees before she's dragged away is the perplexed look on Ambassador Sarek's face as Commander Kirk's shoulders shake with silent laughter.
By the time her chrono shows 2000, there are more than 300 people jammed onto the small square of grass. They've somehow managed to get the faculty and other dignitaries into seats, leaving most of the the students to stand or sprawl on the ground in front of the stage. Saiehnn, Sentek, and the officers of the SAAAC, all nervous to varying degrees, sit in folding chairs on the stage.
When Linh stands to make the introduction, Joanna can see that her hands are shaking. But her voice is firm, reading the words that the prompter floats in front of her eyes, invisible to all but her.
"On Stardate 2258.42, a point of light disappeared from our galaxy--a light of knowledge, and of wisdom. That source of that light is a star that still burns, 16.45 light years from Earth, and the light reflected from that planet continues to travel 15 billion years to the limits of the observable universe. But after tonight it will no longer be visible from the skies of Earth, and so on this occasion we choose to remember what we've lost, as well as what remains here with us: the keepers of the light, the people of Vulcan. I would now like to recognize Sentek, who will read the Van-Kal t'Vokau, the Ceremony of Remembrance."
Sentek rises, and Joanna tries to keep as still as possible, though she can see her classmates shifting in their chairs. Aside from an occasional cough or chirp, the audience is silent as early evening settles over the campus. The young Vulcan clears his throat and begins. His voice is deep and flat, speaking the Vulcan words that the translation loop repeats in Joanna's ear in Standard.
"Matter is precipitated out of energy, and only a small part of that matter will ever achieve sentience. It is through us that the universe knows itself, and it is the obligation of every sentient being to contribute to this knowledge, and to help others to achieve understanding. This is our highest purpose--" Sentek stops abruptly and swallows hard. Joanna sees Saiehnn's head jerk up a fraction, and there's a faint murmur in the audience.
"This is the text that I have been asked to read. It instructs us that we should remember the dead for their achievements in life, and recommit ourselves to the pursuit of knowledge. But I cannot read this tonight, as we witness the destruction of my home planet once again."
Joanna isn't sure how serious this breech of protocol is until she feels Linh tug on her sleeve.
"Do something!" she hisses.
"Like what?"
"Get another Vulcan. Someone who can make him stop!"
Sentek continues, his voice growing louder, harder. "Even now, as the Romulans gather their forces against us, we devote our time to studying ancient songs and poetry. Our way of peace brought us to the verge of extinction. So does logic not suggest that it is the wrong way? Does the Van-Kal t'Vokau not instruct us to judge them--"
Joanna's heart thumps in her ears as, conscious of being on stage, she walks to the edge and hops off with as much intention and dignity as she can manage. She knows something unpleasant is unfolding and has no idea how to prevent it.
The first person she sees is Jim Kirk, standing next to Admiral Pike. They must have arrived too late for a seat in the impromptu VIP section.
"Jo!" He gives her the abridged version of the smile that used to make her flutter when she was a teenager. "Not going how you planned, huh?"
"No! I don't know what to do--we invited him, but I had no idea he was gonna go off the rails like that."
She glances back at the stage to find that Sentek, by now, has warmed to his subject. "And yet our elders still wish to tell us what to do, as if giving us the same counsel will lead to another result. The truth is they have forfeited their authority--"
Jim pulls his comm link from his pocket and taps. A moment later, she sees Spock, seated in the front row next to Uhura, turn and meet his eyes. Jim doesn't respond over the comm, just gives a little jerk of his head toward the stage. Spock rises from his seat, unhurried, and joins his captain.
"Spock, looks like we've got a situation on our hands-what do you think we should do? Technical difficulties? Special guest speaker appearance?"
"I do not believe our intervention will be required, as the situation appears to have resolved itself."
Confused, Joanna turns back to the stage. Saiehnn has left her seat and approached Sentek at the podium. She calmly pulls him down to her level and whispers into his ear for a few seconds, his face going blanker and more stoic with each word. When she's finished, she glares at him down her aquiline nose until he returns to his seat.
"I respect your right to your interpretation of events, Sentek," she says aloud. "And yet I do not agree. You speak of the Destruction as if it were a consequence of Vulcan teaching, when it was nothing of the sort."
"What is she doing?" Joanna hisses.
"It looks like she's saving the show," replies Kirk. Spock tilts his head in agreement.
"Excuse me, but I've got to get back up there." She begins making her way back down to the stage.
"It may please us to see the judgment of history or the hand of Fate in these events," Saiehnn continues. "It may give satisfaction by confirming our biases, perhaps even assure us that no such thing can happen again. But it is not reality. And we must accept reality in order to go forward. That is our philosophy, nothing more."
There's no sound from Sentek or from the crowd; nothing but the harsh cries of a pair of gulls flying overhead. With perfect tactlessness, Linh bolts from her chair, tapping her chron. "Five minutes! Clear the stage and get the screen down!"
Kileia, who's been waiting with single-minded focus for her cue, hits a button and screen descends from its hiding place up in the lighting grid. In the lower left corner of the screen there's a countdown timer.
The image is faint and blurry at first, resolving into a clear image of the familiar 40 Eridani system, its trinary stars and three planets. Joanna can't identify Vulcan; the planets are no more than smears of light. She reminds herself that nothing is actually happening. It's a memory made manifest by the distance of space, a distance that the people around her, through the miracle of warp, crossed 16 years ago.
But none of that seems to matter to the audience. She sees Chekov and Sulu seated together in the third row, Sulu whispering something into his ear while his friend buries his face in his hands. Sarek looks unusually pale and Winona leans toward him a little, head at a wistful angle. Uhura glances back and forth between the screen, Spock, and Saiehnn with obvious concern. Admiral Pike leans over the edge of his antigrav lift to stroke the head of his old Golden Retriever with a steady rhythm, calming one or both of them.
Suddenly it feels real. Joanna gets some echo of what it must have been like on the bridge of the Enterprise, and it's terrifying: a planet is about to die and there's nothing she can do to stop it. She leaves her seat and half-stumbles off the stage, but no one is watching her. Their eyes are glued on the screen, none with more calm dispassion than Spock, whose hands are clasped behind his back as if supervising a demonstration during a lecture.
A hand falls on her shoulder, and without looking, she knows it's her father. He doesn't say anything, but all the same, she's grateful when he takes her hand in his, discreet between their two bodies.
This is the first time many of the younger cadets are directly confronted with the disaster beyond the formal analysis of events they learn in class. Unconsciously, they huddle closer together; Joanna notices a few of them sniffling or using their uniform sleeves to wipe at their eyes. A few of the older audience members stand up and leave, unable to sit through to the end.
Saiehnn discreetly takes the stage once again; she sits on a small stool positioned at one side. Joanna can't remember the name of the song she's playing, but a shudder runs down her spine as the first quivering notes issue from the strings and out onto the evening air. The lyre produces a warm, rich sound that hangs over them, both sweet and sad in equal measure.
Only one face is turned away as the clock winds down: Saiehnn's gaze is focused on the horizon, where Sol is setting behind the thin, slate-gray smoke of the incoming fog bank. The bright white dot burned onto the screen seems to swell a bit in its final moments, and for a second, Jo thinks that as long as Saiehnn continues to play, it might remain there forever. But the melody, along with the timer, marches steadily toward its predestined conclusion.
three....two...one....
And at zero, the light winks out.
+++++
Nerdy Note: Although it hasn't been established in canon, Gene Roddenberry endorsed 40 Eridani, a trinary system in the constellation Eridanus, as the location for Vulcan. We have used the estimate of 16.450 light years from Earth, which would mean that if Vulcan were destroyed on 2258.42, or Feb. 11 2258, the last light from Vulcan would reach Earth on July 25 2274. 40 Eridani A is visible to the naked eye (though not in the Northern Hemisphere in summer) but extrasolar planets are not, so seeing Vulcan would require a powerful telescope. We're assuming the the SAAAC has access to such a telescope, perhaps space-based. Based on what we think we know about the limits of visual spectrum astronomy, Vulcan and the two other planets in the 40 Eridani A system would appear as points of light. Now, we think we got that right, but please correct us if not. No objection too geeky :)
Location: Baker Beach
Time: 1530 hours
By 1530, the sun is breaking through the clouds, auroral sheets of light illuminating the slight whitecaps in the bay. Baker Beach is nearly deserted, the morning's chilly fog having chased off all but a few runners and dog-walkers. It's a public beach, but close enough to Starfleet that the sight of a uniformed officer and a robed Vulcan attracts no stares.
Winona had surprised herself by suggesting the beach walk; Sarek had surprised her by accepting. What she needs to discuss is awkward at best, inflammatory at worst, and highly personal to boot. It seems easier to be moving, and at least she doesn't have to look directly into Sarek's eyes.
"I don't understand. You expressed no such reservations this morning. Has new research come to light?"
Winona shakes her head, a little angry with herself. Sarek's question is a polite reminder that he supported Federation policy--supported her--through the long morning, even though he holds no official position that requires him to. It was rash, running to Sarek before she'd had a chance to formulate a reasoned argument.
"No. But I looked back through the subcommittee minutes over the past six months. Federation support for the Teslau project has been consistent and heavily skewed in one direction."
"Toward the more militarily inclined of your colleagues." Sarek seems as serenely unconcerned as ever, but then he wasn't a diplomat for nothing.
"Under the circumstances, the Federation's motives for wanting the project to proceed can hardly be pure."
At that, Sarek smiles faintly. "You hold us to higher standards than we do ourselves. I ask you, what would constitute a selfless motive in this case? The desire to restore Vulcan without profiting the Federation? To fulfill the desires of individuals, without benefiting the whole?" Sarek stops, and turns toward her. "Commander, I say this with the greatest respect for your mental faculties and your conscience, but the arguments you heard this morning against the Teslau Project were but a shadow of those that have been underway on New Vulcan for many months. The truth is that our civilization is dying--not from lack of resources, but lack of progress. Our energies are wholly devoted to preserving the memory of what we had, trying to revive institutions that grow less relevant with each passing day. If Vulcan culture is to move forward, it requires a new generation, one not in thrall to the past but one open to the possibilities of the future."
Winona drops her head and looks at where her booted heel makes a furrow in the soft sand. "The first lesson of being a parent. It hadn't occurred to me that it applies to planets as well."
"It is a unique gift of humanity, this eternal optimism concerning change. We have a great deal to learn."
Winona looks into Sarek's deeply etched face and sees a reflection of her own. To others, she supposes, it looks like wisdom, but in her own mind she's as young and uncertain as ever when it comes to decisions that affect other people's lives.
"But it's humanity that's always looking for eternal youth."
"Yes, exactly." Sarek holds out his hands, palms raised, as if he's just proved a point to a particularly hard-headed opponent.
Winona throws her head back and laughs, feeling the wind catch in her hair. She's eager to continue the walk, to keep the Presidio at her back and Sarek beside her for a while longer. When she takes a step her boots scrunch into the sand again.
"Oh, the hell with it." She bends down to unfasten them, and Sarek offers a steadying arm. The sand feels wonderful between her toes, cool and moist. "I don't suppose you have a scientific interest in harbor seals, Sarek?"
He inclines his head and smiles faintly. "The phenomenon of marine mammals is a novel one to me."
Winona knows a Vulcan yes when she hears it. "Let's walk a little further down the beach, then."
Location: South Campus, Sciences Quad
Time: 1715 hours
Jim Kirk walks with an abbreviated version of his usual long strides, perhaps because he has nowhere to go. The meeting that he is about to miss is in the opposite direction. Spock, too, has many obligations this afternoon, but has already decided to forgo them in the hope that Jim will share whatever is on his troubled mind.
They walk without speaking, but never in silence. Jim communicates clearly that he is gravely concerned about something, something with serious consequences beyond his own desires or career. Spock indicates, by his posture and the angle of his head, that he is more than willing to listen but will not force the issue, as he understands that there are things that Jim must keep in confidence.
For weeks, the campus has been humming with gossip concerning Starfleet's long-delayed decisions on the captaincy of its two most important vessels. Spock has heard a theory that Kirk will be left in command of the Enterprise to exploit his singular tactical gifts, and another that he will be moved to the new flagship, the Excelsior. He has heard it claimed, in whispers, that Kirk will be given command of the whole fleet. Kirk himself has not lobbied in any direction, preferring to expend his political capital on the increasingly unpopular cause of peace with Romulus. It is apparent to Spock that what will make Jim happiest is also what will make him most successful, but Jim has not actually asked for Spock's opinion.
"Hey." Jim points in the direction of the Bluffs Trail. "Isn't that Sarek?"
Jim is quite correct; the shape of his head and the lines of his surcoat are plain even at this distance.
"Yes. And he appears to be with your mother."
Jim pulls up short and squints. Dr. McCoy has been insisting he receive surgery to correct his vision, but Jim has thus far denied the necessity.
"What are they doing?"
"I believe they were both in attendance at this morning's Subcommittee on Population hearings." Spock does not point out that the meeting was held in the Newton building, on the other side of the campus.
"They're walking awful close, don't you think?"
"My father is a social being, by Vulcan standards. He has had little companionship since the death of Sahn'pel."
Kirk shoots him a look of suspicion before turning back to stare at the approaching figures. "Well, he should have plenty to keep him busy when he has a grandkid on the way. Not to mention a daughter-in-law--two daughters-in-law? How does that work again?"
"Vulcans do not recognize a difference linguistically between biological and legal kinship. Sarek calls both my wives his daughters. As a purely hypothetical example, if he were to marry your mother, you would be my brother, Nyota your sister, and any children--"
"I get it!" Jim throws up a hand to stop him. "Speaking of Saiehnn, I'd really like to see more of her, as long as we're all here. I've got a couple more meetings to go to, but are the three of you free for a late dinner?"
"Regrettably, we have an obligation at 2000 hours. Saiehnn has agreed to perform on the lyre for a student gathering."
"Not that astronomy club thing?" Spock nods. "Bones was trying to get me to go to that. Jo's an officer of the club." Jim looks less than excited by the prospect. Spock merely waits. "Oh, all right. We'll stay as long as we have to and then get out, okay? Good."
By now, they are in hailing distance of Sarek and Winona, who are deep in conversation and have not seen them. Jim plots a course to intercept.
Location: Cai Xitao Community Gardens
Time: 1831 hours
Hikaru leads Pavel down to the hidden corner of campus where the public gardens are located. They're comprised of a series of square plots arranged around the new biodome built a few years back. Pavel gives a low whistle at the soaring arches of the glittering plasteel structure, built with recovery funds from the Federation in a bid to ensure that post-Narada, the Academy would remain an attractive option to future recruits.
They spot Kirk and Spock while en route, heads bent together in some intense conversation. Pavel entertains the passing thought that he might pump them for information, but their expressions seemed to discourage it.
Hikaru keys in his code to the little storage shed near the community plots and emerges with two impossibly tiny pairs of shears and an eyedropper.
"Want to help?" he asks, offering them to Pavel. “Today is pruning day.”
Pavel's lip curls involuntarily at the thought. "Only if you want them to die."
Sulu shrugs and returns a pair of the shears to its shelf. Pavel follows obediently until they reach a series of hydroponic beds holding a number of plants about six centimeters tall, their delicate purple fronds shivering in the light breeze.
Hikaru’s attention is soon focused solely on his charges, his fingers handling them with the same studied intensity as when he's bringing a ship out of spacedock. A shock of dark hair falls into his eyes, evidence that a haircut has fallen to the bottom of his to-do list. After about two minutes, Pavel gets tired of watching and drops to the ground, then pulls out his communicator to check his messages.
A comfortable quiet settles over them, broken only by the chatter of the other occupants of the garden. Pavel has nothing to do at this point, so he just listens to Hikaru work and absentmindedly watches the sun make its steady progress across the sky. His eyes drift shut every now and then as his body focuse on processing the heavily spiced Deltan meal they indulged in for lunch.
"I’ve been offered a position with Arboritas-the interplanetary seed bank,” says Hikaru. His eyes widen a bit in surprise, as if his mouth just acted without permission. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you like that.”
Pavel blinks sleepily. "But that is good news. Why are you upset?"
"If I accept their offer, I'll have to resign my commission."
Of course. Hikaru can't work for an interplanetary operation and be at the beck and call of Starfleet at the same time. Taking his interest in botany from hobby to profession is something Hikaru always aspired to-Pavel should be happy for him.
But what comes out of his mouth is, "You're leaving me?"
Hikaru turns to look at Pavel, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. "Pavel...I’ve been looking for a way out for a while now. You've said it yourself--there's a good chance we'll be butting heads with Romulus this time next year, and I don’t think I’ve got another military engagement in me. This is the perfect opportunity to leave with my dignity intact.”
“You had time away-you left for three years, to teach." Pavel tries to keep his voice light, but he knows he's failing. He can handle giving up the Enterprise or Hikaru, but not both.
The little vein jumping at the corner of Hikaru's jaw broadcasts his irritation loud and clear. “I'm not you, Pavel, and I'm not Kirk. What if I want a house one day, or a job that doesn’t involve brushes with certain death every minute, or a family, even? Not everyone can live on science and adventure alone.”
Pavel's eyes narrow in suspicion. "You said the same thing the last time you left."
"Yeah, but this time I'm serious, and I won't let you lure me back with your advanced skills in the art of seduction."
"Tch. I am a scientist. I would never stoop so low."
"We don't have to live in each other's pockets forever to keep being friends,” he replies, adding a punch on the shoulder for emphasis. "I'll take that position with Aboritas, and you'll do whatever it is you're going to do. And we'll both be fine."
Pavel sets his communicator into the grass, his face serious."I think...that I will go to the Neutral Zone. If they ask me."
"What?” Hikaru's surprise is written all over his face.
“I hate it down here. It's always, 'Commander Chekov, you can use this lab from 0800-1300 on Tuesday and Thursday only, but not the second Tuesday, when our guest scholars are coming in. Commander Chekov, you are very suited to be chair of this department, but not so much as this man whose company just developed our newest phaser banks. Commander Chekov, we really don’t consider it a waste of your time to teach that intro course on non-Federation tracking relays.'" He pauses to catch his breath. "I want my own lab, and to be supervisor of my own department, and I want it to be many light years away from these idiots who haven’t spent any time in zero-g since they were in reds."
"Yeah, but...this won't be another exploratory mission, Pavel. This is serious."
"Then they will seriously need someone to keep them in check, correct? And if--if there is a reason we need to be out there, then I want to be involved. You can wait at home with the dog and kids for my triumphant return."
Pavel's comm beeps, and he pulls it out to see the flashing reminder of the memorial viewing.
"That ceremony is starting soon--should we go?" It's a small student event, and there probably won't be many other people there. But all the same, Vulcan's disappearance is not something he necessarily wants to relive.
"I think you'll regret it if you don't."
Hikaru offers Pavel a hand up from his seat on ground. Pavel will never admit it, but after numerous away missions that involved camping in less-than-favorable conditions, his knees aren't quite what they used to be.
The shears are returned to their proper location, and Hikaru spends a moment at the little industrial sink washing the dirt from beneath his fingers. The water is still running long after the last remnants of dirt have swirled down the drain, which makes Pavel worry-more than a decade on a starship tends to make one resource-conscious. Maybe Hikaru hasn't taken his decision so well after all. Pavel reaches for the tap's manual kill-switch, but Hikaru grabs him by the wrist.
"Just be careful out there, okay?" There's a seriousness in his eyes that makes Pavel uncomfortable. "Try not to pull too many heroic stunts while I’m not around to watch your back."
Pavel gently retrieves his hand, and makes his best effort to call up a reassuring smile. "If you were anyone else, I'd point out that I've logged 24 percent fewer hours in sickbay than most officers my age. But since it's you, well--okay. I promise to be careful."
Location: Founder's Walk, Central Campus
Time:1904 hours
Winona and Sarek exchange greetings with their own sons and each others' in the Vulcan manner, with inclined heads and knowing smiles. Winona forbears giving Jim a kiss on the cheek.
"James, I am pleased to see you. I anticipated you would be at the Riverside Shipyards."
Jim twitches a little. "No, sir. I have plenty to keep me busy here."
"Indeed. I am not surprised to find all the Enterprise crew making itself useful. For example, you, my son, are serving on the Biocomputing Grant Review Board. Is there a not a meeting at this very moment?"
"Yes, father, but--"
"Then it would be wise for you to proceed there quickly. Professor X'an does not like tardiness." Spock's glance slides from Sarek to Jim and back again. Winona feels sympathy, but not so much that she isn't amused.
"Yes, of course."
"Very good. I will accompany you, as I have matters to discuss with X'an, and she can be exceedingly difficult to locate." Sarek turns and gives a parting bow. "Winona. James. I anticipate our future meetings with pleasure." Winona and Jim bow in turn and watch their retreating backs.
"Since when does Sarek call you 'Winona'?" The way Jim is wrinkling his nose takes twenty years off his face, maybe more.
"We're going to be working closely together. That's a good enough reason, isn't it?"
"So you're going to say yes to Teslau?" He looks away, not before she catches his frown.
"I haven't decided yet, but I'm leaning that way. Why? Have you heard anything bad about it?"
"No, no." The way he adjusts his expression puts her on alert. "You're the right person, of course. I hope they know how lucky they are, after the way they've treated you. Where are we walking, by the way?"
"I don't-- I thought you--"
Jim grins and steers her toward a park bench. The sun has won its battle with the clouds and is shining on the brilliant blue bed of salvia beside them.
"Teslau is controversial as hell, and not just on Vulcan." He stretches out his long legs and tilts his head back, enjoying the warmth. "I hope they offered you something more than the usual generous pension contribution."
Winona is glad for the opening. "Nothing that'll put a new roof on the house, but something they knew I'd like. Jim, Admiral Kansai told me it could be another month before they announce any personnel decisions for the Excelsior."
Jim stifles a curse. Winona wraps a hand around his wrist with the easy familiarity of parenthood that never seems to fade.
"I know," she says. "The waiting is killing me; I can't imagine what it's doing to you. Well, I have some idea. Instead of just sitting around waiting...you can escort me to New Vulcan. Kansai is quite pleased with his idea, apart from how it pleases me. They're going to send the Gillani. I've been on it before. It's a nice ship. And you'd be doing something useful."
"As opposed to what I'm doing here?" The frown returns.
"Oh, you know what I mean. Sending someone of your stature is a mark of respect, and it'll create confidence in the program. The Vulcans like you. And I'll say it again: you could use time away from this place."
"A controversial science mission to a remote planet isn't my idea of R&R, and I doubt the Vulcans would appreciate my thinking of it that way." He scowls and picks at a loose thread in his trousers. Winona wonders for the first time if his gloom over the past few weeks is more than just a heritable dislike of being stuck planetside.
"If you're doing something to benefit others, is it so wrong if it benefits you, too? If that's so, you'll have to blame me for wanting to share this with you. It's creating new life, Jim. Believe me, that counts for something."
"I've never been so glad that Sam decided to have kids early."
She doesn't have to work up much of a glare before Jim's stubbing his heel against the leg of the bench, looking penitent.
"Okay. Okay. I'll definitely consider it. And if I don't go, it'll be because--well, it won't be because I don't trust your advice. You always make me feel better about other people's idiocy."
"Whose idiocy are we talking about? The Admiralty's? You know I don't give you professional advice because I don't know what it's like to be in your position, and I don't have access to the same information you do. But I appreciate the gravity of the decisions you have to make. Coming with me to New Vulcan isn't as important as that."
"But that's the thing--it should be. That's what Starfleet should be doing: using all this science and technology to make things better for living beings. It's turned into this interstellar chess game, and half the time I don't know if I'm a player or one of the pieces."
He rubs his palms together and stares at the ground, and she can see the tension in his shoulders, feel it radiating off him. The part of her that wants to keep him from danger and worry is tempted to beg him to come with her to New Vulcan, but at best it would be a temporary solution.
After a few minutes of watching him from under her lashes, she says, "You busy tonight? Care to buy an old lady dinner?"
"I'd love to, but I've got plans with Spock, and--shit, I've got Jo McCoy's astronomy club thing at 2000. I don't suppose you want to go? It would make Bones happy. Not that you can ever tell."
"Anyone can tell he's happy when Jo's around. It's wonderful they've been able to spend these few months together, before--well, before whatever happens," she concludes, not before Jim's expression has turned dark. "I'd be happy to go, and you should be too." She pats his knee, bony and hard under the gray wool of his uniform pants. "It'll make you feel better I promise."
Jim squeezes her hand briefly before moving it off his knee and rising slowly to his feet. "I should just save myself trouble and take all your advice." He squints into the sunshine. "Tell you what--I'll go to Jo's thing, but I'll meet you there. I need to stop by Cochrane Hall."
Location: Archer Pavilion, North Campus
Time: 1945 hours
"Why are there single-use cups? People should know to bring their own cups." Linh frowns at the refreshment table as one of the little cup-towers tips over in the breeze and rolls to a stop at her feet. "I told you we should have rented a tent. Stellar Cartography would've paid for it if we'd asked."
Jo McCoy concentrates on keeping her voice neutral. "I thought we should be prepared for drop-ins, and it's not going to kill us to have to deal with the elements for a while." She doesn't blame Linh for the stress that's adding to her usual obsessive attention to detail. What started as a simple idea to recruit new club members, has turned into the only official memorial for Vulcan on the Academy campus.
Linh is good with instruments but has little talent for people, so this entire event sets her on edge. The Ceremony of Remembrance had been Jo's idea, but they all worked to cobble together the resources necessary to build a space telescope capable of broadcasting an image of Vulcan down here on Earth. From the corner of her eye she notices Oye, their technical officer, introducing Chekov and Sulu to Kileia, a first-year cadet from Orion who's their newest recruit. She's brilliant but as aggressively assertive as all the other overachievers in the club, so Jo is tickled to see that she looks more than a little intimidated.
A moment later she sees her father striding across the quad. It's an incredible luxury having him on campus, and she's been enjoying every moment, dropping by his lab when the mood takes her, asking for his help with homework assignments when the fact is she's doing fine--really well, actually--without him. Sooner or later he'll be flying off, or she will, and she doesn't want to have taken this time for granted.
"Hi, baby girl." She refuses to blush, although Linh looks away. She introduces him around to the other members, and they're trying hard not to look impressed, a sure sign that they are.
"Thanks for coming. Is Captain Kirk going to be here?"
"He said he'd try, but he's got a lot on his plate right now."
"Admiral Pike will be," Linh says, impossible to stop.
"Well, well. We're going to be quite an august crowd. I'd better take a seat while I can. Jo, you let me know if I can do anything for you."
"I will." People are beginning to filter in from all parts of the campus: cadets and professors, as well as a handful of Starfleet bureaucrats.
She turns to see Saiehnn approaching, flanked by Spock and Uhura. Saiehnn wears a dark brown dress with embroidered gold accents in the current Vulcan style, with a barrel-shaped bodice that looks stiff and uncomfortable. It was Jo who first approached Saiehnn about participating in the ceremony. It wasn't difficult; she thinks of the Enterprise's bridge crew as her aunts and uncles, a conceit from childhood she's never quite given up. That makes Saiehnn her aunt by marriage, as well as closer to her age than her father's.
Saiehnn glances at the stage in what might be apprehension, and Uhura wraps a gentle hand around her forearm as Spock hands her the lyre. It makes Jo's heart beat with nervous sympathy, and she almost regrets asking Saiehnn to do something that's bound to bring more unwanted attention. She's already a subject of curiosity--all three of them are, so famous and so attractive by the standards of their species, and with the circumstances surrounding their relationship unusual enough to set Starfleet gossip in motion.
"Saiehnn." Jo keeps her hands folded in front of her, remembering her Vulcan manners, and Saiehnn lowers her head in turn. Joanna sees that her hair is intricately plaited, something that must have taken hours to do. A little voice in her head whispers that she should have done more than just pull her own hair back into a hasty ponytail. "Thank you again for being here. You look--" she meets Saiehnn's dark, glittering eyes and is flustered. "You look beautiful."
"My attire is appropriate for the occasion." She gestures toward the stage. "Do you wish me to be seated?"
"Yes, please. There's Sentek--he's going to read the Van-Kal t'Vokau." Sentek is the president of the Vulcan Student Union, and looks quite a bit happier to be the focus of attention than Saiehnn does, if Jo is any judge of Vulcan facial expressions.
Saiehnn simply nods and makes her way to the stage. She stops to exchange a few polite words with Sentek before settling into her chair and focusing on her instrument, a small frown on her face as she turns the tuning pegs back and forth.
"Don't worry," Uhura says quietly, whether to Spock or Joanna, she isn't sure. "She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to do this."
Joanna takes the thought to heart. The concept of Vulcan stoicism strikes her sometimes as a lazy generalization, an excuse not to care about Vulcans' suffering more than they seem to care about it themselves. Joanna was barely six years old at the time of the Destruction, and can't imagine what it must have been like for Saiehnn, who had to be evacuated from her school.
The seats are three-quarters full now, and Joanna recognizes signs of near-panic in Linh as she stage-directs while frantically waving for Oye and Joanna.
"Joanna?" A strong hand catches her arm.
"Commander Kirk!" It's been years since she's seen Jim Kirk's mother--not since the Enterprise's first refitting, when Jim invited the bridge crew and their families to a weekend in Riverside. That's apparently good enough for the commander, who gives her a quick hug before turning her to face her companion.
"Joanna, this is Ambassador Sarek; Sarek, Dr. McCoy's daughter, Joanna. A very promising astronomy student, and I've heard that from more than just your father, so you don't need to give me that look."
Joanna just barely manages to ignore the churning in her stomach so she can stutter out a greeting. Kirk's mother. Spock's father.
"Can you please stop socializing and help us?" Linh's voice is low but stinging. "We need more chairs, and Oye's having problems with the telescope signal." The last thing she sees before she's dragged away is the perplexed look on Ambassador Sarek's face as Commander Kirk's shoulders shake with silent laughter.
By the time her chrono shows 2000, there are more than 300 people jammed onto the small square of grass. They've somehow managed to get the faculty and other dignitaries into seats, leaving most of the the students to stand or sprawl on the ground in front of the stage. Saiehnn, Sentek, and the officers of the SAAAC, all nervous to varying degrees, sit in folding chairs on the stage.
When Linh stands to make the introduction, Joanna can see that her hands are shaking. But her voice is firm, reading the words that the prompter floats in front of her eyes, invisible to all but her.
"On Stardate 2258.42, a point of light disappeared from our galaxy--a light of knowledge, and of wisdom. That source of that light is a star that still burns, 16.45 light years from Earth, and the light reflected from that planet continues to travel 15 billion years to the limits of the observable universe. But after tonight it will no longer be visible from the skies of Earth, and so on this occasion we choose to remember what we've lost, as well as what remains here with us: the keepers of the light, the people of Vulcan. I would now like to recognize Sentek, who will read the Van-Kal t'Vokau, the Ceremony of Remembrance."
Sentek rises, and Joanna tries to keep as still as possible, though she can see her classmates shifting in their chairs. Aside from an occasional cough or chirp, the audience is silent as early evening settles over the campus. The young Vulcan clears his throat and begins. His voice is deep and flat, speaking the Vulcan words that the translation loop repeats in Joanna's ear in Standard.
"Matter is precipitated out of energy, and only a small part of that matter will ever achieve sentience. It is through us that the universe knows itself, and it is the obligation of every sentient being to contribute to this knowledge, and to help others to achieve understanding. This is our highest purpose--" Sentek stops abruptly and swallows hard. Joanna sees Saiehnn's head jerk up a fraction, and there's a faint murmur in the audience.
"This is the text that I have been asked to read. It instructs us that we should remember the dead for their achievements in life, and recommit ourselves to the pursuit of knowledge. But I cannot read this tonight, as we witness the destruction of my home planet once again."
Joanna isn't sure how serious this breech of protocol is until she feels Linh tug on her sleeve.
"Do something!" she hisses.
"Like what?"
"Get another Vulcan. Someone who can make him stop!"
Sentek continues, his voice growing louder, harder. "Even now, as the Romulans gather their forces against us, we devote our time to studying ancient songs and poetry. Our way of peace brought us to the verge of extinction. So does logic not suggest that it is the wrong way? Does the Van-Kal t'Vokau not instruct us to judge them--"
Joanna's heart thumps in her ears as, conscious of being on stage, she walks to the edge and hops off with as much intention and dignity as she can manage. She knows something unpleasant is unfolding and has no idea how to prevent it.
The first person she sees is Jim Kirk, standing next to Admiral Pike. They must have arrived too late for a seat in the impromptu VIP section.
"Jo!" He gives her the abridged version of the smile that used to make her flutter when she was a teenager. "Not going how you planned, huh?"
"No! I don't know what to do--we invited him, but I had no idea he was gonna go off the rails like that."
She glances back at the stage to find that Sentek, by now, has warmed to his subject. "And yet our elders still wish to tell us what to do, as if giving us the same counsel will lead to another result. The truth is they have forfeited their authority--"
Jim pulls his comm link from his pocket and taps. A moment later, she sees Spock, seated in the front row next to Uhura, turn and meet his eyes. Jim doesn't respond over the comm, just gives a little jerk of his head toward the stage. Spock rises from his seat, unhurried, and joins his captain.
"Spock, looks like we've got a situation on our hands-what do you think we should do? Technical difficulties? Special guest speaker appearance?"
"I do not believe our intervention will be required, as the situation appears to have resolved itself."
Confused, Joanna turns back to the stage. Saiehnn has left her seat and approached Sentek at the podium. She calmly pulls him down to her level and whispers into his ear for a few seconds, his face going blanker and more stoic with each word. When she's finished, she glares at him down her aquiline nose until he returns to his seat.
"I respect your right to your interpretation of events, Sentek," she says aloud. "And yet I do not agree. You speak of the Destruction as if it were a consequence of Vulcan teaching, when it was nothing of the sort."
"What is she doing?" Joanna hisses.
"It looks like she's saving the show," replies Kirk. Spock tilts his head in agreement.
"Excuse me, but I've got to get back up there." She begins making her way back down to the stage.
"It may please us to see the judgment of history or the hand of Fate in these events," Saiehnn continues. "It may give satisfaction by confirming our biases, perhaps even assure us that no such thing can happen again. But it is not reality. And we must accept reality in order to go forward. That is our philosophy, nothing more."
There's no sound from Sentek or from the crowd; nothing but the harsh cries of a pair of gulls flying overhead. With perfect tactlessness, Linh bolts from her chair, tapping her chron. "Five minutes! Clear the stage and get the screen down!"
Kileia, who's been waiting with single-minded focus for her cue, hits a button and screen descends from its hiding place up in the lighting grid. In the lower left corner of the screen there's a countdown timer.
The image is faint and blurry at first, resolving into a clear image of the familiar 40 Eridani system, its trinary stars and three planets. Joanna can't identify Vulcan; the planets are no more than smears of light. She reminds herself that nothing is actually happening. It's a memory made manifest by the distance of space, a distance that the people around her, through the miracle of warp, crossed 16 years ago.
But none of that seems to matter to the audience. She sees Chekov and Sulu seated together in the third row, Sulu whispering something into his ear while his friend buries his face in his hands. Sarek looks unusually pale and Winona leans toward him a little, head at a wistful angle. Uhura glances back and forth between the screen, Spock, and Saiehnn with obvious concern. Admiral Pike leans over the edge of his antigrav lift to stroke the head of his old Golden Retriever with a steady rhythm, calming one or both of them.
Suddenly it feels real. Joanna gets some echo of what it must have been like on the bridge of the Enterprise, and it's terrifying: a planet is about to die and there's nothing she can do to stop it. She leaves her seat and half-stumbles off the stage, but no one is watching her. Their eyes are glued on the screen, none with more calm dispassion than Spock, whose hands are clasped behind his back as if supervising a demonstration during a lecture.
A hand falls on her shoulder, and without looking, she knows it's her father. He doesn't say anything, but all the same, she's grateful when he takes her hand in his, discreet between their two bodies.
This is the first time many of the younger cadets are directly confronted with the disaster beyond the formal analysis of events they learn in class. Unconsciously, they huddle closer together; Joanna notices a few of them sniffling or using their uniform sleeves to wipe at their eyes. A few of the older audience members stand up and leave, unable to sit through to the end.
Saiehnn discreetly takes the stage once again; she sits on a small stool positioned at one side. Joanna can't remember the name of the song she's playing, but a shudder runs down her spine as the first quivering notes issue from the strings and out onto the evening air. The lyre produces a warm, rich sound that hangs over them, both sweet and sad in equal measure.
Only one face is turned away as the clock winds down: Saiehnn's gaze is focused on the horizon, where Sol is setting behind the thin, slate-gray smoke of the incoming fog bank. The bright white dot burned onto the screen seems to swell a bit in its final moments, and for a second, Jo thinks that as long as Saiehnn continues to play, it might remain there forever. But the melody, along with the timer, marches steadily toward its predestined conclusion.
three....two...one....
And at zero, the light winks out.
+++++
Nerdy Note: Although it hasn't been established in canon, Gene Roddenberry endorsed 40 Eridani, a trinary system in the constellation Eridanus, as the location for Vulcan. We have used the estimate of 16.450 light years from Earth, which would mean that if Vulcan were destroyed on 2258.42, or Feb. 11 2258, the last light from Vulcan would reach Earth on July 25 2274. 40 Eridani A is visible to the naked eye (though not in the Northern Hemisphere in summer) but extrasolar planets are not, so seeing Vulcan would require a powerful telescope. We're assuming the the SAAAC has access to such a telescope, perhaps space-based. Based on what we think we know about the limits of visual spectrum astronomy, Vulcan and the two other planets in the 40 Eridani A system would appear as points of light. Now, we think we got that right, but please correct us if not. No objection too geeky :)