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2249
Parents were not supposed to have favorite children. But Sarek did. And his was Michael.
Of course, it was Michael. How could it be anyone else? Spock possessed too much of Sarek’s own stubbornness. It made him bold and firm in his convictions—which were admirable qualities—but it also made him willful and disobedient. And Sybok….
No. They did not speak of Sybok.
Sarek closed his eyes briefly to banish the thought before any unwelcome memories regarding that individual could resurface. Then, when he opened them again he turned to look for his family.
The Vulcan Science Academy’s graduation services had just concluded, flooding the courtyard in front of the institution with students, professors and parents. Compared to the relative pandemonium which seemed to inevitably follow these sorts of events on Earth, the atmosphere was relatively sedate. All the students and families present moved with a slow, deliberate pace. There were no raised voices. And the only other sounds in the vicinity were the faint treading of footsteps across the flagstones, the quiet crackling of a fire in one of the ceremonial fireplaces, and the soft, lilting melody of a ka’athyra, being played by one of the recent graduates.
Spock had declined to attend the ceremony in favor of continuing to pursue his studies at home—a decision Sarek had protested to no effect. While Sarek had lingered behind to converse with several of Michael’s favorite instructors, who were quick to compliment her work, he had become separated from his wife and his ward. However, Sarek did not need to use his eyes to redetermine their location.
Sarek could easily pinpoint Amanda’s position, through the marital telepathic bond they shared, if he so chose. Additionally, though he concealed this fact, Sarek also shared a different and in some ways more profound link with Michael, which would allow him to do the same.
His link with Michael had been formed when he had shared a piece of his katra with her, in order to preserve her life, after the Vulcan Learning Center Bombing in her youth. This katra graft meant that even when he kept the bond closed—as he had since its formation—he was constantly aware of her physical state.
Sarek did not even have to open his link with Michael, and possibly alert her to its presence in the process, in order to locate her. As soon as the thought crossed his mind to search for his ward, his eyes flicked automatically to where Michael stood, on the other side of the courtyard, next to his wife.
Michael was standing tall, and unruffled under the radiant light of Vulcan’s primary star—a far cry from the shrinking, awkward youth she had been when they had first met. Her current attire bore witness to the fact that she had achieved all of her objectives, not only satisfactorily, but far beyond expectations.
Like many other students in the courtyard, she was wearing the VSA’s standard white graduation robes, trimmed with gold, and decorated with a gold and silver IDIC pin in the center of her high collar. Unlike her peers, however, a row of metal rods adorned the left side of Michael’s robe front—the prodigious number of them indicating that she had graduated at the top of her class, with the highest honors the prestigious institution could offer.
Whether she was pleased to be awarded such an honor, Sarek could not tell. He was able to view her face perfectly, despite the many meters between them. But it was a flawless picture of serene impassivity.
This was somewhat surprising. Out of everyone present, Michael possessed the most sufficient reasons to exhibit visible excitement. She had achieved the most, and against what many would see as insurmountable odds. And yet, despite this, and despite her humanity—her control over her emotions was impeccable.
That sight nearly made Sarek’s heart swell in his side with pride. If Michael could restrain herself even now, that boded well for her future. However, Vulcan parents were not supposed to become emotional over their children’s accomplishments, of course. Therefore, Sarek exerted control over the physical sensations of his body, preventing any undue emotionalism from developing. Then he turned to look at his wife.
Amanda was also arrayed in white—though her attire was clearly not the Vulcan Science Academy graduation robes. The body of the dress was much more form fitting. A tracery of metallic, vein-like embroidery covered the shoulders of her dress, before giving way to a waterfall of white tassels in lieu of sleeves.
All things considered it was a rather… bold choice. But Amanda had wanted to dress her best for the occasion, and Sarek had not protested. If any occasion merited a little ostentation, it was this.
For a moment, Sarek considered walking across the courtyard in order to join them. From what he could see from this distance, it appeared Amanda and Michael were conversing with one another. Amanda was offering Michael a graduation present—a book tied with a bow.
Just when Sarek decided to take the first step toward the pair, however, suddenly his sensitive ears caught the sound of a different pair of footsteps treading across the ground several meters behind him. Curious, he turned in response to the noise, and caught sight of the Vulcan Expeditionary Group’s director.
The director was an older Vulcan, likely in his fourteenth or fifteenth decade of life, according to Federation standard metrics. He had silver hair and a pale, wizened face. He was wearing dark olive-green robes, and was wielding a metal, ceremonial staff. In ancient times, the staff had been a warrior’s weapon, symbolizing the on-going battle for knowledge. But in the modern era, it was an object almost entirely useless for enacting violence, and little more than decoration. A token of authority.
The director was not looking in Sarek’s direction. Instead, he had crossed the ground behind Sarek to speak to another parent. Sarek could not exactly discern the contents of their conversation from his current position—he was still insufficiently proximate, and it would be impolite to eavesdrop. But he gathered, from context clues, that the director was likely speaking to the parent about their child’s acceptance, or lack thereof, into the Vulcan Expeditionary Group.
Sarek studied the pair for a moment, during which the parent made a somewhat hasty exit from the director’s presence. Based on the speed of their stride and the downcast angle of their head, Sarek could only assume that their child had been rejected.
This was not wholly surprising, given that the Expeditionary Group was exceptionally strict regarding whom they would allow into their ranks. And there was no logical reason to suppose it had anything to do with whether or not Michael would be accepted into the group. Yet, Sarek had the distinct impression Amanda would consider it a ‘bad omen.’
Fortunately, Amanda appeared oblivious to the interaction. She had not even noted Sarek’s presence yet. So, as the other parent retreated from the director’s presence, Sarek decided it was his turn to approach.
The director turned when he caught the sound of Sarek’s quiet footfalls. “Ambassador Sarek.”
Sarek nodded in acknowledgement, then settled into position at the appropriate distance Vulcans regarded for polite conversations with strangers. As a foreign ambassador, Sarek was intimately aware of the fact that every species had different rules. Fortunately, he had the advantage of being raised on Vulcan, and thus did not make the all-too-frequent human mistake of standing either too close, or comically far away.
“I presume you are here to discuss the future of your ward,” the director began.
“That is correct,” Sarek replied.
“The Expeditionary Group has examined graduate Burnham’s application with great interest,” the director told Sarek.
“Acceptance with honors is her due,” Sarek stated resolutely.
Of this, he was absolutely certain. There could be no other outcome. If she had graduated with average grades, there might be room for debate. But Michael had graduated at the top of her class. There was no logic in denying her entry whatsoever.
“…By conventional decision parameters, yes,” the director allowed with some hesitancy.
Sarek did not appreciate his tone. What exactly was the director implying?
“Your hesitation is… to do with her nature?” Sarek ventured.
He had not suspected that a man as dedicated to science as the Expeditionary Group Director was, would be swayed by the illogical, xenophobic positions some other Vulcans held. But xenophobia was the only justification Sarek could conceive of that might disqualify Michael. She was the perfect candidate by every other metric.
“Certainly, her nurture is unquestionable,” the director assured Sarek.
Sarek accepted the compliment on his parenting for what it was. “I have created in her a being of exquisite logic, to rival the best of our species,” he agreed.
But what then, is the catch? Sarek wondered. Or is the director simply reminding me that Michael’s success is unprecedented?
“An accomplishment you have achieved not once, but twice,” the director pointed out.
Sarek tilted his head in confusion. Twice?
“Your ward, Michael, and your son, Spock,” the director explained.
Sarek stiffened. Then, (though he would never admit it aloud) something unpleasant coiled in his gut.
“What has my son to do with this situation?” Sarek asked. “He has not yet begun his studies at the Science Academy.”
“Upon completion, he will apply to the Vulcan Expeditionary Group, and then there will be not one, but two non-Vulcans in it’s ranks,” the director explained.
Sarek balked at the director’s word choice. Non-Vulcan? But Spock was…
Sarek opened his mouth to protest. “Spock is—”
“Half Vulcan,” the director finished for him.
The tone of the director’s voice suggested that he considered this a distinction without difference. That Spock’s human heritage outweighed any of his Vulcan DNA. That, for all the director cared, he might as well have been Andorian.
“Another of your… experiments,” the director continued.
The director’s words sliced through Sarek, with as much precision and devastation as if he had been physically impaled with the director’s ceremonial staff.
Experiments? Sarek thought. How… dare you! Spock is my son! I did not create him to satisfy some… perverse scientific curiosity, but because I lo—
Realizing his grip on his emotions was slipping, Sarek made an effort to tighten his controls before he made a visible fool of himself. He would not show emotion. He would not take offense. He had dealt with worse commentary before. Mostly directed at him, for marrying a human, rather than his son, but still. He was Sarek, of Vulcan. He did not react with violence to the petty prejudices of others.
“The integration of humans into our culture is an admirable goal,” the director said—a phrase Sarek suspected was mere lip-service to the notion of diversity. Which was often the best Sarek could hope for in Vulcan society. True proponents were few and far between. “…but it must be titrated. In honor of your position and reputation…”
Sarek nodded in acceptance of another compliment. It was a hollow one, given the circumstances, but still.
“…I will accept one of your not-quite Vulcans,” the director announced.
Again, Sarek had to resist the urge to bristle at the director’s wording. Not-quite Vulcans? Is that how they will always be perceived?
Then the implications of the director’s words sunk in. At the same time, Sarek’s heart sank.
“You… you ask me to make an impossible choice,” Sarek admitted.
There was simply no way that a father could be expected to choose between his children. If they both qualified, they should both be permitted to join the group. That was logical. What did it matter if the addition of two members who were not full-blooded Vulcans disturbed some radical elements of Vulcan society? To refuse to allow his children to participate, in order not to invoke the wrath of the Logic Extremists was to act based on fear. Which was illogical.
Sarek was about to say as much. But the director spoke first.
“Your reaction to this is quite illogical,” he insisted. “And suggests a conclusion based on emotion.”
Apparently, the time for perfunctory compliments was past. That was an insult.
Sarek did not display offense. Instead he tilted his head, wondering if there could be more the director intended to say. Perhaps, the director might make a more blatantly specious remark, betraying his own emotions about the matter? Something that Sarek could take to the Vulcan Science Council, perhaps, and get the man dismissed from his seat for holding prejudicial beliefs?
But no. The director was wisely silent after that. He merely turned and walked away, leaving Sarek alone with his thoughts.
Feeling Amanda and Michael’s eyes on him, Sarek turned around and finally began to approach them. But as he took long, slow strides across the courtyard, he struggled to determine what he would say.
Explaining the situation to the pair was unlikely to yield positive results. Amanda would not tolerate the obvious injustice, and could very well raise a ruckus that might influence the director not to permit either of their children to join the group. And if Sarek were to designate the decision as Michael’s responsibility, that would only cause her undue emotional stress. She should not be forced to choose between her own future, or that of her younger brother’s.
Which meant that the decision had to be Sarek’s and Sarek’s alone. Additionally, he would be required to make his best attempt to conceal the truth from his children, so they would not be burdened with the knowledge of how deeply backwards Vulcan society still was.
But which should he choose? Already having crossed half the distance between him and his wife and ward he quickly strived to weigh both options.
Even if it was not sufficient in the director’s eyes, Spock’s half-Vulcan nature made his integration in Vulcan society more likely, from Sarek’s perspective. And Spock was his biological son—a distinction Sarek preferred not to make on most occasions. But one that bore some weight in this unusual circumstance.
However, Spock had not yet proven himself. Of course, given his current grades at the Learning Center it was unlikely that he would be rejected from entering the Vulcan Science Academy. Nor was it likely that his grades at the Vulcan Science Academy would be too poor to achieve admittance into the Expeditionary Group. But his admittance into the group was still not guaranteed.
Michael, on the other hand, was already a proven entity. If Sarek told her she was accepted, she could join the group immediately. The only downside was Michael’s humanity.
Due to her alien psychology, there was a significant possibility that the environment of the Vulcan Expeditionary Group would not be… the most conducive to her development. She had adapted well to the rigorous demands of logic in the Vulcan classroom. But would she thrive on a Vulcan ship, without regular contact with any humans, not even her mother?
Given the director’s attitudes, which Sarek suspected would be common amongst the other members of the group, he did not like her chances. She would be unlikely to find camaraderie among her Vulcan peers. And humans, Sarek knew, suffered psychologically without emotional support.
Sarek’s short journey across the courtyard concluded then. But as he settled into place next to his wife and ward he still did not know what he was going to say. Michael, clutching the gift she had received from her mother, remained totally emotionless at his arrival. But Amanda’s cheery optimism was, as always, relentless.
“She got in, didn’t she?” Amanda asked, as soon as Sarek stopped moving.
“Michael’s application…” Sarek paused and took a deep breath.
The words “was rejected” were on the tip of his tongue. Sarek knew it would be foolish to choose Michael, and hope that circumstances would change when Spock graduated. The director had given no indication that this matter was open for debate, and Vulcans rarely, if ever, changed their minds in as short a time period as five years.
Additionally, the fact remained that Spock was most likely to thrive in a Vulcan environment. Physically and psychologically he was more similar to other Vulcans than she, which Sarek expected would make the adjustment to life in the Vulcan Expeditionary Group easier. Not to mention he was Sarek's blood-relation, and therefore, by the dictates of Vulcan custom, should be owed priority.
But as he was speaking, Sarek made the mistake of glancing over at Michael. Her lips were still in a smooth, straight line. But her eyes were wide with anticipation. And of course, they were. She had worked hard, almost her entire life, to reach this point.
Despite years of rigorous training in the art of emotional control, something in Sarek’s heart twisted at the sight. Abruptly, he changed his mind. Regardless of what it meant for Spock’s future, he simply could not bring himself to crush the dreams of his favorite child.
“Michael’s application… was accepted.”
Michael’s face lit up. She demonstrated laudable restraint. But Sarek could tell from her eyes—deep brown eyes, sparkling with emotion—that underneath her well-trained Vulcan mask, she was ecstatic.
This knowledge pleased him immensely. So much so that it almost overpowered the guilt rapidly starting to coil in his intestines.
I am a terrible father, Sarek internally berated himself. I have just sacrificed the future of my own son—my flesh and blood—for the ward which I illogically prefer.
While Michael received the news in a subdued manner, Amanda’s reaction was much more spirited. She threw her arms around Michael in an excited hug, and loudly pronounced, “I’m so proud of you Michael! This is wonderful news!”
“Mother, please,” Michael implored self-consciously, while still trapped in Amanda’s arms. “Don’t make a scene.”
Amanda let go of Michael almost as if she’d been burned. “Sorry, it’s not every day my daughter makes history! You should be proud of yourself.”
Instead of replying, Michael turned to Sarek, almost as if she was seeking his approval. Sarek could not fathom what for. He was the last person she should be looking up to as a role model, at this moment. But if she sought it, he would share his own opinion on the matter.
“Pride is a human emotion,” Sarek expressed with a note of disapproval. At Amanda’s stink-eye, though, he added. “However, it is true that you have accomplished an incredible feat. One which I believe, warrants a celebration at home, if I am not mistaken?”
It was uncharacteristic for Sarek to suggest such an event. But he was eager to leave public scrutiny. He did not want the director or anyone else to possibly overhear the conversations that were sure to follow. Also, a fraction more selfishly, his own shame, which was mounting at an alarming rate, would also be easier to control in a more private setting.
Michael’s eyes switched between Sarek and Amanda, looking suddenly somewhat concerned. “I was not aware you two had conspired to throw a party.”
Amanda’s face lit with shock, but her smile made it clear it was a pleasant surprise. “There was no conspiracy—this is also my first-time hearing about this. Sarek did you… plan a party?”
The hesitancy in his wife’s voice was disconcerting. As if she considered the possibility that Sarek would ever do such a thing so remote as to be remarkable.
Worst still, Sarek knew she was correct. Which only compounded the guilt that was eating at him, like a festering gut parasite.
“I was not imaging anything… particularly elaborate,” Sarek hedged, attempting to manage his wife’s and ward’s expectations. “However… I believe we have some champagne in the cellar saved for a ‘special occasion’ of which, I believe this event qualifies.”
Amanda clapped in excitement. “Ooh! Yes, that’s an excellent idea, husband. You’re so thoughtful. What do you say, Michael?”
Michael nodded once. “I think one glass of champagne would be acceptable.”
Amanda chuckled. “Always so responsible.”
The three of them began walking toward their flitter then, to Sarek’s tremendous relief. He desperately needed to meditate on his decision. There was no use in reversing it now—what was done was done. But an extreme amount of mental discipline would be required to reach an acceptance of his poor, emotionally-driven decision making.
Oh, honored Surak. What have I done?
2250
A year later, Sarek reflected on his progress as a parent.
Only thirteen days after her graduation, Michael had successfully joined the Vulcan Expeditionary Group. In the months that had followed, she had settled into an assignment aboard the VSS Soplek, a modest science vessel. It was a posting which Sarek believed was less impressive than what her credentials suggested she was due—an unfortunate sign that prejudice had likely influenced the decision. However, it would provide her with many opportunities for advancement as she demonstrated to the crew that she was as capable, if not more capable, than her Vulcan peers.
In her absence, Sarek had spent most of his waking hours secretly miserable. While Spock completed his last year of schooling at the Vulcan Learning Center and prepared to apply to the Vulcan Science Academy, Sarek desperately tried to discover a solution to his blunder. But he could find none.
Spock’s talents clearly lied in the sciences—and specifically in the realm of astrophysics—meaning that the Vulcan Expeditionary Group remained the most logical choice of career. And yet, because of his emotional lapse, Sarek had blocked that path for his son entirely.
So, Sarek gave himself several, painful headaches, as he struggled to determine if Spock would find satisfaction in simply teaching astrophysics at the Vulcan Science Academy—an unlikely prospect, given Spock’s stubborn wanderlust as a child. Then he was reduced to making inquiries into other organizations in secret, to deduce if some other branch of the Vulcan Space Force might be persuaded to accept Spock, against the wishes of the Vulcan Expeditionary Group’s director.
Perhaps the Vulcan Defense Directorate—which had a small armada of ships of their own—would permit Spock to join, in spite of the director’s protests? It was not likely, but not impossible. The Minister of Defense owed Sarek a favor, and he was not above utilizing his position as an ambassador to “pull some strings” as his wife would put it.
However, Sarek did not relish the idea for several reasons. Even if Vulcan’s Defense Ministry took the official stance of pursuing peace first, and only resorting to violence as a last resort, they resorted to violence more often than Sarek thought was prudent. And Sarek was concerned that Spock, with his gentle temperament, would not be suited to that environment.
While Sarek stressed over it in his study, he heard Amanda talking to Spock in the living room of their home. Given the open layout of the house, and Sarek’s Vulcan ears, their voices were easy to distinguish, even through the thick walls and heavy door that separated them.
“Spock, come here. Let me see you,” Amanda gently requested.
“No,” came Spock’s reluctant reply.
Sarek raised an eyebrow at this. Spock had always been stubborn. But, while Spock often displayed such reluctance around him, Spock normally obeyed his mother’s requests.
“Spock,” Amanda repeated, her voice firmer this time.
There was a brief silence. Then the echo of Spock’s footsteps as he reluctantly padded across the long hallway over to his mother.
“There's no need to be anxious. You'll do fine,” Amanda assured him in a warm, congenial voice.
“I am hardly anxious, mother,” Spock said, sounding rather defensive for one who claimed not to be anxious. “And fine has variable definitions. Fine is unacceptable.”
“Okay,” Amanda replied in a voice barely above a whisper. Sarek had to strain to hear it.
There came a soft, padded sound after that. Which Sarek suspected was the result of Amanda patting Spock’s shoulders. Then, abruptly, Spock changed the subject.
“May I ask a personal query?” Spock asked, sounding even more uncertain than before.
Sarek wished he could see his son’s face at the moment. Spock had always been… more expressive than most Vulcan children. This fact had hindered him somewhat in his social development in Vulcan society, yet Sarek had often found it useful for ascertaining his son’s moods.
“Anything,” Amanda assured him.
“Should I choose to complete the Vulcan discipline of Kolinahr, and purge all emotion, I trust, you will not feel it reflects judgment upon you,” Spock said.
Sarek’s ears perked up at that. Kolinahr? Spock had never expressed any interest in the rigorous discipline before. At least not in Sarek’s presence. Could it be that Spock was not certain in his career path as a scientist aboard a starship?
The notion disturbed Sarek somewhat. For an entire year, he had been privately worrying himself into an early grave over ensuring that Spock had the best possible opportunity to utilize his talents in space. Sarek had assumed that meant discovering a way to have him posted on a Vulcan starship somewhere. But if Spock believed his true calling was in pursuing a path of total logic…
…well, to be perfectly honest, Sarek was not certain it suited Spock’s temperament. Few Vulcans truly possessed the personality suited for the demands of living as a Kolinahru. And thus far, none had been half-human.
But if Spock managed to succeed, despite not being fully-Vulcan, then Sarek would have no choice but to accept it. Kolinahr was the most honored discipline in Vulcan culture. In fact, as a Vulcan parent, he should be immensely satisfied to have a child who had successfully purged all of their emotions.
It would also solve his problem of having to find a space-faring organization that would accept Spock. Kolinahru rarely left Vulcan.
Still, Sarek found the notion illogically perturbing—perhaps a residual after-effect of T'Rea's decision to abandon their marriage to pursue the discipline. Also Sarek was not certain Amanda would share common Vulcan perceptions towards the practice, either. But her next comment surprised him with its openness.
“Oh, Spock. As always, whatever you choose to be, you will have a proud mother,” Amanda promised him.
There was a brief silence after that. Then Amanda turned around, and spoke with more volume than was strictly necessary toward Sarek’s study. “Sarek, dear, are you ready to go?”
Sarek rose out of his office chair and gave himself a cursory glance in a long, thin, rectangular mirror placed along the far wall. His appearance looked suitable to him. His attire—a simple dark gray robe—was crisp and unwrinkled. And his hair—a mix of black and silver which Amanda fondly referred to as “salt-and-pepper”—was neatly combed.
So, Sarek strode out of his office, and called out to his wife and son, who stood on the floor below, “Yes, I am ready. Shall we depart?”
Amanda looked up at him. She was dressed in a brown, long-sleeved dress, with a matching headscarf covering her hair and ears—an outfit Sarek considered suitable for their intended destination. But to Sarek’s surprise, she sadly shook her head.
“I will not be joining you.”
Sarek tilted his head at an angle to demonstrate that he was confused. “Why not, my wife?” he asked as he began to descend the steps that separated them.
“My presence… complicated things when Michael was admitted,” Amanda said, self-consciously. “This court is to decide Spock’s future. I’d rather not remind them that…”
“That you are my mother?” Spock ventured, sounding almost as appalled as Sarek felt.
“I am not embarrassed to be seen with you, my wife,” Sarek assured her as he reached the bottom of the staircase, and crossed the hall to stand beside her. “Embarrassment is a human emotion.”
“Of course not,” Amanda readily agreed. “I just think things might go smoother this way.”
Sarek raised a single eyebrow. He was not certain he agreed. Amanda’s absence at Spock’s hearing to decide whether Spock would join the Vulcan Science Academy would be as conspicuous as her presence. But if she did not want to attend…
“If you do not wish to accompany us, I shall respect that,” Sarek allowed with some reluctance. Then he turned to his son, “Spock, are you prepared with what you will say?”
Spock gave one, clipped nod.
“Good. Then we will depart now,” Sarek informed him.
…
Sarek was not a member of the Vulcan Science Council, but in honor of his position as an ambassador, the Science Council allowed him to sit with them, in the raised seats overlooking the courtroom floor. A privilege they strangely had not extended toward him during Michael’s hearing. Which Sarek was now suspicious had something either to do with the fact that Michael was human, or that Amanda was.
Perhaps they had not invited Sarek before because they did not want to commit a social faux pas by separating Sarek from his wife? Or perhaps they had simply not wished to invite a human to sit with them?
Sarek attempted to give the council the “benefit of the doubt” as his wife put it. Perhaps it was simply easier to accommodate one extra person in the raised seats than two. Or perhaps the council had adapted their attitudes slightly in the intervening years, and simply did not have the opportunity—due to Amanda’s absence—to fully demonstrate how much they had changed.
Both possibilities were… remote, if Sarek was being perfectly honest. However, regardless of the minister’s intent, Sarek was not going to take offense over a mere seating arrangement. Vulcans did not take offense.
Or… at least they were not supposed to. The firm line of disapproval etched into Spock’s face when he entered the courtroom and noted Sarek’s position, demonstrated that his son was taking offense. Sarek gave him a cold look back, reminding him to behave. But as usual, Spock ignored him.
Which, Sarek should have expected. After all, this was the same son, who had insisted on wearing a sweater his mother had knitted for him to this occasion. Still, Sarek was surprised by the blatant disobedience. This did not bode well for the outcome of this meeting.
When the ministers took their seats around Sarek, Spock schooled his expression somewhat, to Sarek’s relief. But Spock remained on-edge throughout the proceedings. As if he was watching and waiting for the ministers to make the tiniest mistake.
Sarek could not understand his son’s attitude, until the Minister of Science rose to conclude the hearing.
“You have surpassed the expectations of your instructors. Your final record is flawless. With one exception, I see that you have applied to Starfleet as well.”
Ah… Suddenly Sarek understood. Spock was not only being scrutinized for his worthiness to join the Vulcan Science Academy, but simultaneously Spock was scrutinizing the Vulcan Science Council, to determine whether he wanted to join their institution or Starfleet.
However, although this revelation made sense, it also shocked Sarek. Spock had never mentioned any interest in Starfleet. Of course, if he had, Sarek would have been quick to remind him of how militarized the organization was—a stance Sarek, as a Vulcan and as an ambassador who made a career of seeking peace, staunchly disagreed with.
“It was logical to cultivate multiple options,” Spock offered as his reasoning.
Sarek stiffened in his seat. While that was true, was it possible that… Spock knew he would not be admitted into the Vulcan Expeditionary Group? Sarek had not told a single individual about the director’s ultimatum. But it was not impossible to suppose that Spock could have discovered it somehow. Spock was both intelligent and resourceful.
Sarek folded his hands in his lap, and briefly closed his eyes to stymie his shame. He had failed Spock.
And now it was also possible that Spock was aware of his failing. Sarek had no proof of course. But that did nothing to ease his anxiety.
If Spock he was aware of the fact that Sarek had chosen Michael’s future over his…
Sarek swallowed. He did not look forward to that conversation.
“Logical but unnecessary,” the Vulcan Science minister declared. “You're hereby accepted to the Vulcan Science Academy.”
Sarek wanted to sink back into his chair in relief. That was one concern dealt with. But in the next few seconds, he was glad that he had not relaxed. For the minister’s next words made Sarek’s shoulders tighten.
“It is truly remarkable, Spock, that you have achieved so much, despite your disadvantage. All rise!”
The Vulcan ministers had managed to go the entire length of the meeting without once mentioning Spock’s dyslexia, or his relation to Amanda. Which had pleasantly surprised Sarek. But of course, they could not refrain from mentioning at least one of those things, at the very end, could they?
Sarek sat very still, hoping that Spock would let the comment pass, unremarked upon. But of course, Spock could not.
“If you would clarify, Minister. To what disadvantage are you referring?” Spock asked.
Sarek did not understand what purpose that question served. Did it truly matter which prejudice the ministers espoused? Surely, Spock must know that such attitudes were, unfortunately, quite common.
But the minister answered him anyway. “Your Human mother.”
Spock’s response was immediate. “Council, Ministers, I must decline.”
The minister’s face changed from one of confident assurance to concern. “No Vulcan has ever declined admission to this academy.”
Spock, Sarek could tell, had been prepared to decline at the first sign of prejudice. And he apparently had prepared a response to this inevitable criticism as well.
“Then, as I am half-human, your record remains untarnished.”
Sarek felt the sudden urge to rise up from his seat and remind Spock that, although he was half-human biologically, he had made a commitment to honor the Vulcan way and therefore should not be seeking to set himself apart from the other applicants. But before he could complete the action, he remembered that even if Spock did attend the Vulcan Science Academy, after his graduation he still would not be permitted to join the Vulcan Expeditionary Group. So perhaps it was better this way.
Sarek had, after all, fleetingly considered arranging to send Michael to Starfleet, when he had planned to sacrifice her future for Spock’s. It would therefore be hypocritical for him to oppose Spock taking that path, now that Sarek had sacrificed his future with the Vulcan service.
It was, perhaps, not the ideal outcome. But given Sarek’s shrinking range of options, it would have to suffice.
So Sarek sat back, and waited for the hearing to end.
Apparently, however, the Vulcan Science Minister was having a difficult time reconciling what was happening. “Why did you come before this council today?” he demanded of Spock. “Was it to satisfy your emotional need to rebel?”
The Minister appeared to believe that Spock had only come in order to announce that he was going to decline in favor of Starfleet. But Sarek knew that was not true. If the Minister had refrained from bringing up Amanda at the last minute, Spock may have very well accepted admittance into the academy.
However, it was obvious that he had been prepared to walk away, in the event that they demonstrated prejudice. No doubt he had learned, from watching Michael struggle to prove herself, that it would not be an easy path to be combating xenophobia at every turn.
Suddenly Sarek realized perhaps there was some logic in Spock’s decision to join Starfleet, after all. While they were imperfect at its implementation among their ranks, Starfleet did espouse a strong value of diversity. And given that the Vulcan Expeditionary Group had utterly failed to live up to the concept of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, perhaps it would be a better environment for Spock, militant tendencies aside.
“The only emotion I wish to convey is gratitude,” Spock said with perfect evenness. “Thank you, Ministers, for your consideration.” Then, in a tone that bordered on scathing, he added: “Live long and prosper,” and promptly exited the room.
…
Later, Sarek caught up with Spock in the hallways of the Vulcan Science Academy. Though it took some effort. Spock was walking briskly, likely in an attempt to avoid this conversation.
“Father, I do not wish to—” Spock began defensively.
Sarek cut him off. “Why did you not inform me of your application to Starfleet?”
Spock stopped suddenly on the tiled floor, then turned to stare Sarek down. “You would not have approved,” he informed him. “You have made your distaste for that organization clear many times.”
“Their philosophy is more… martial than I am comfortable with,” Sarek slowly agreed. “For an organization that purports to support science and exploration, they are tremendously military-minded.”
“I was correct, then, in my assessment. You do not approve,” Spock announced.
“I did not say that,” Sarek refuted.
The fact that it would have been true a year prior was immaterial and not worth mentioning. This development was unexpected, but given the circumstances, not unwelcome. It solved all of Sarek’s problems rather neatly, actually.
Spock tilted his head, confused. “Then what is your opinion?”
“You never asked,” Sarek pointed out.
Spock attempted to school his expression into one of flat, impassivity. “I am asking now.”
“Do you believe Starfleet is where you belong? That you will have a satisfying career there? That you will have the opportunities to utilize your talents to the betterment of yourself and others?” Sarek asked.
At this point, that was all Sarek could dare hope for.
“I do, father,” Spock said firmly.
“Then I am pleased with your choice,” Sarek lied.
Spock raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Truly?”
Spock was, unfortunately for Sarek in this moment, too smart not to notice the discrepancy in Sarek’s current statement with his past utterances. But, given that he could not find a more suitable alternative, Sarek attempted to ameliorate Spock’s concerns with a resolute nod.
Spock’s eyebrows knit together slightly, perplexed. “I do not understand. It is not the life you would have chosen for me…”
“It is not,” Sarek readily agreed. “But you are not me. Nor are you Michael. You are unique. Therefore, it is logical that you should determine your own legacy.”
They were not words Sarek would have said under different circumstances. Children were often inept at choosing the best futures for themselves. And Sarek still had numerous misgivings regarding the idea of Spock attending Starfleet. But despite their insincerity, his words seemed to have their intended affect of soothing Spock.
“Thank you, father,” Spock said. To Sarek’s surprise, he sounded sincere.
“One does not thank logic,” Sarek replied.
He was unwilling to accept thanks in this circumstance. It was a fluke that he had not been forced to destroy his son’s or his daughter’s future. He had also tactfully left out the part where he had severely limited Spock’s choices, and thus was now forced to accept a sub-par outcome.
Spock stubbornly held his gaze. “I was thanking your consideration.”
Sarek raised an eyebrow, then nodded, accepting. He really did not deserve that thanks, either. In fact, it was precisely his lack of consideration for his son that had gotten him here in the first place.
The fact remained that Sarek had been willing to throw his son’s future away for Michael. But if Spock was aware of Sarek’s failings, he made no mention of it. And Sarek decided he would take it.
In fact, he decided then and there, that he would take the knowledge of his decision to the grave.
2256
For six years, while Spock progressed in Starfleet to the rank of lieutenant, and Michael was rose in the Vulcan Expeditionary Group to the rank of sub-commander, Sarek kept silent. His plan to never address the issue, however, eventually proved to be untenable.
In 2256, the VSS Soplek encountered a space anomaly which resulted in Michael entering an alternate universe. While there, she encountered another version of herself. This alternate Michael was enrolled in Starfleet instead of the Vulcan Expeditionary Group. And this other Michael had a very interesting story to tell.
This other Michael explained to his ward how her own father had chosen to tell her that the Vulcan Expeditionary Group had declined her application. A lie he had told, in the hopes that Spock would one day join the group.
But in this alternate universe, Spock had also rejected the Vulcan Science Academy, in favor of Starfleet. And therefore, the other Sarek’s deception had merited nothing. He had sacrificed Michael’s future and her self-esteem for an outcome that never occurred.
After the two Michael’s had conversed, his Michael had, thankfully, returned to her own universe unharmed. Then she had filed a thorough report with the Vulcan Expeditionary Group. And only after that had she shared her findings with Sarek.
When Michael finished relating her story to him, Sarek had much to consider. If he had sacrificed Michael’s future for Spock’s, and Spock had still chosen Starfleet, Sarek did not imagine he would have been so accepting of Spock’s decision to join Starfleet under those circumstances.
Apparently, based on the other Michael’s account, he hadn’t been very accepting in that other universe. An argument had arisen between him and Spock after the hearing which had led to years of estrangement. An estrangement which was, in that other universe, still ongoing.
When Sarek learned this, he was forced to sit down on the couch in his home and take a deep breath. It seemed that he had narrowly avoided losing all contact with his son. Which was unacceptable. As much as Spock’s decisions perturbed him at times, Sarek could not even begin to imagine that state of affairs.
As it was, Spock sent him and Amanda weekly updates on his progress. They also video-called him once a month, circumstances permitting. Just the same as they did with Michael.
It pained Sarek to imagine having to step out of frame while Amanda called Spock. If Spock had requested it, of course he would have complied. But the notion of never speaking to his son made Sarek’s heart ache a little in his side.
Suddenly, Sarek was grateful for his emotional lapse and that Michael was his favorite. In a strange way, because he had acted on his favoritism, everything had worked out perfectly.