DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Pierrette Therene and is copyright (c) 1999 by Pierrette Therene. You may contact Pierrette at Spock333@aol.com. This story is Rated PG.
THE GIFTED CHILD
It was morning on planet Vulcan, and all was quiet in Sarek's ancestral home. Captain Spock and his wife, Dr. Christine Chapel, on extended shore leave after the latest five-year mission on board the Enterprise, were getting reacquainted with the peaceful Vulcan life -- catching up on paperwork, research and the happy side of domestic life without having to face any life-threatening crisis.
Christine looked up from her computer terminal and glanced affectionately at the shiny black hair of her nearby husband's bent head. He was still so incredibly handsome, even after all the years that had passed. *I can't believe my luck,* she thought for the umpteenth time. *Here I am, married to the most wonderful man in the galaxy, sharing a union of body and mind I couldn't have imagined even in my wildest dreams.*
At this moment, she started broadcasting her thoughts so strongly that, even as absorbed as Spock was by his findings on the Munorite philosophy, his bondmate's sheer delight assaulted his mental shields with a vengeance.
"My wife, please control," he said severely.
"I'm sorry, Spock. I forgot myself." Christine tried to strengthen her control and tone down her feelings. Control was always difficult for her, she was so very Human. What made her strong as a Healer could easily be construed as a weakness on this planet of telepaths.
Spock had tried to teach her countless times that the mind ruled on Vulcan. Even Amanda had mastered the necessary mental disciplines over the years. *Dearest mother-in-law,* she thought with a smile. *Always so patient, supportive and helpful -- though Sarek used to scare the living daylights out of me ... but not anymore.*
Over the years, Sarek had come to accept, respect and rejoice in the differences of his son's chosen bondmate. *Yes*, Christine resumed her train of thought. *We've come a long way, and all the obstacles were well worth it. I couldn't be happier if I lived five hundred years.*
Spock looked her way again, a slight smile on his lips. "Even for a Human, you seem exceptionally content today, Christine. What is the reason for your rejoicing?"
Christine decided to open her mind to their bond. What could not be spoken on Vulcan could be thought -- a much better way to express what was in her heart. The slender link searched and found the mind it sought. Spock, perceiving her intent, dropped his own shields to welcome his mate's touch. A moment later their thoughts intertwined. Peace, harmony, and contentment flowed between them at the precious togetherness of being one soul in two bodies.
Warmth and light, beauty and joy ... an outpouring of overwhelming love from the Human and shy but appreciative affection, coupled with, *And I cherish thee, my wife,* from the Vulcan.
An unwelcome sound broke their concentration, and the couple reluctantly directed their attention to the insistently beeping com-unit.
Spock reached to open the line. "Ambassador Sarek's residence. Spock speaking."
On the screen, an older Vulcan addressed Spock. "Spock, it is thee with whom I wished to speak. I am Master Sunal of the Vulcan Academy of Science. This concerns thy son Sendet's study program. I would meet with thee at thy earliest convenience."
"Would 1100 hours be agreeable?"
"Indeed. I await thee in my office. Sunal out."
Christine felt a sudden chill. "What was that all about? Do you think our son is in trouble for any reason?"
"It would be illogical to speculate at this time, my wife. Master Sunal will enlighten me on this matter at the proper time."
"Maybe he has difficulty following his study requirements." Christine wanted to talk about it. "If so, why didn't he tell us?"
"I would find that surprising, Christine. Sendet has had extensive testing from my father and myself before his placement was decided. At that time, he seemed quite able to follow a program for a full-blooded Vulcan of the same age."
"Full-blooded Vulcan, indeed!" Christine exclaimed indignantly. "Here we go again. I wouldn't think, Spock, that after your hellish childhood, that you would be so ready to judge our child's abilities on the amount of his Vulcan chromosomes. He is a miracle of science. I should know; I was there during all the genetic engineering that made him possible. A chance in hundreds after two stillborn premature babies." Christine almost sobbed at the painful memories. "As we had to encode your uniquely Vulcan heritage to make it possible, I have some news for you. He's as Vulcan as you are, and sometimes, God help him, even more so."
*T'hy'la...* Spock's soft mind-voice and his usage of the ancient Vulcan word meaning 'soul-mate' stopped Christine in the middle of her tirade. Once he had her attention, Spock spoke out loud.
"Christine, my wife, listen to me. You are my chosen bondmate. You have been faithful and trustworthy; you have managed my estate and raised my child -- then at the same time worked for Starfleet, earning an intergalactic reputation for your work on inter-race genetic progeny manipulation."
"I know, but..." she began.
Spock smoothly interrupted. "Then, five point-two months ago, during my Time of Mating, you once again provided me with comfort and solace, welcoming me even after your body and mind was past the point of exhaustion, did you not?"
"That was my duty, Spock, to save your life."
"What I am trying to make you understand, my wife, is that you are my 'th'y'la,' perfect in my eyes ... and that which is of you in our son is precious to me. I have never found him lacking or inferior in any way, but always respected his uniqueness and the manner in which he was able to blend the two halves of himself into a balanced personality. He mastered in a few years what took me decades to accomplish -- not a small achievement."
"Spock, you helped him all the way. You've been a good father. I'm sorry I blew up, but I've had nightmares thinking of how badly you were treated when you were growing up. Surely you can understand that I only want what's best for Sendet, as any mother would. I would do anything to prevent him from suffering the kind of prejudice and stigma that come from the label 'half-breed'."
"Interspecies marriages are now far more common than they were at the time I was born, Christine. Father and Mother were the pioneers -- but now several dozen hybrid children caann be found on Vulcan, and it is frowned upon to refer to them as 'sashiri' or half-breed. Now if you will excuse me, I will take the ground-car to the Vulcan Academy and confer with Master Sunal." Spock lifted two fingers of his right hand, and Christine raised her own in the appropriate gesture. Warmth and ressurance flowed through their link.
*All will be well, beloved.*
*I hope so, my husband.*
* * *
When Spock reached the Academy, he was ushered into the Master's waiting room where his 17-year-old son was already sitting, hands demurely folded in his lap. Blue eyes looked up at Spock's entrance -- the only feature Sendet had inherited from his mother. The rest of him was an exact replica of Spock at the same age. Sendet greeted his father with a respectful bow after standing up.
"Honored father, Master Sunal told me you were coming."
"Indeed. Do you have any knowledge of why my presence is required?"
"I have insufficient data to forge an accurate guess, sir, but if I may speak?"
"You may proceed, my son."
Encouraged by his father's tone and manner, the boy elaborated. "I am well aware of the importance of learning everything that can be learned, and wish to tell you that I have given one hundred percent of myself in all required subjects at the Academy this year. I also know very well that any possibility of my being placed in Starfleet as a starship Science Officer, as is my wish, is entirely dependent upon my achievement at this Institute."
"That is correct." The older Vulcan nodded approvingly.
"Then, Father, I beg forgiveness for bringing dishonor on our family name. If my best is not enough to meet this year's study requirements, I might be retained. I know it has not happened in our family for countless generations. Maybe my dual ethnic heritage is at fault."
"I have the same heritage, Sendet. Over the years I have found, as you will, that it is an advantage and gives us an edge, especially in science where -- even as illogical as it seems -- intuition can be a useful tool rather than a hindrance. I trust you do not wish to deny or repress your Humanity?"
"As it would mean denying Mother, who I am sure is one of a kind in several light-years radius, I wish to accept it, not repress it."
Mindful of the secretary who could witness any unVulcan display, but wanting to reassure his son that he was not disappointed in him, Spock's mind reached out. Sendet, a strong telepath even at his young age, immediately embraced his father's consciousness in their family bond and understood the message the older Vulcan was trying to convey.
"I am honored, Father."
"The honor is mine, my son."
At this instant, Master Sunal arrived and greeted Spock with the traditional salute. "Live long and prosper, son of Sarek."
"Long life and prosperity to you, Master Sunal."
"I would meet privately with you, Spock. Sendet, you will remain here. Your father will inform you later if he so wishes."
Sendet, knowing better than to argue (as if one could argue with authority or wisdom), quietly returned to his chair.
Once in his office, Sunal did not lose any time.
"Spock, your son is a talented student and must be moved ahead by two standard years if we want to keep his learning challenging. But where he seems even more advanced than his classmates in his telepathic abilities. He scores highest in all mind disciplines. I am somewhat surprised at this, considering the quasi-psi-null rating of your wife."
"My wife is Human," Spock replied coldly. He had no intention of allowing anyone, not even the head of the Vulcan Academy, to be judgmental about his wife.
"She is also a Healer, is she not?"
"She is a medical doctor. It has to do with the physical part of the cure, not the spiritual, as is known on our planet."
"Be that as it may, at 0900 this morning, myself, several students and two other Masters witnessed that Sendet has the Gift."
"The Gift?" Spock's upswept eyebrows raised.
"The Healing Gift, as described by several Healers during the course of history. It has not been seen in our race in three hundred years."
"This morning, during the physical education program, a few young children from a nearby school were visiting. One got too close to two students *lirpa* training and was deeply cut by an inadvertent swing on his upper left forearm. At four, he could not control the pain, and started crying. It was most distressing. Sendet reached him first, ripped his sleeve and applied pressure to the wound with his hand. The child stopped crying immediately; after 2.3 seconds, the blood stopped flowing.
"When I removed Sendet's hand, the wound was already starting to close. I asked him to continue. In 1.5 minutes, the cut was completely gone. Had I not witnessed it myself, I would find it hard to believe... but it is written about the Gift in the ancient script of T'Ning and Svenk. It is the only logical explanation. Do you concur, and have you ever seen such in him?"
"I concur, though neither my wife nor I know of it. Our son would have told us if he had any such gift. Is it some kind of empathy?"
Luminous dove's eyes floated in Spock's mind. *Gem, the well-named...*
"Empaths take the other person's suffering on themselves. Sendet gave out healing energy. He was tired, but not in pain -- even controlled pain. I am positive of this. Which brings me to this question: Do you want him to use this talent to the best of his ability? Should he be a Healer instead of a scientist?"
Spock frowned thoughtfully as he ran one long finger over his upper lip. "My son is obedient and respects my opinion, but I would not order him in his choice of career. He has enough maturity to make his decision with the data at hand. I will inform him and let you know his decision."
Spock then took his leave of Sunal, and on the way home in the ground-car, father and son had much to talk about. Christine greeted them upon arrival.
"Que c'est t-il passe' Sendet, racontes moi." (What happened, Sendet? Tell me.)
She had always chosen to speak French to Sendet, although Spock made sure that he also learned the Vulcan language. The learning of different languages was, after all, part of the Federation philosophy. In addition, her parents had said they didn't mind having a half-alien grandson. He could bleed whichever color he wanted and they would love him dearly -- but he had to "parler francais" (speak French) or else!
"Maman, le directeur de le'cole a dit que j'avais. Le Don de Gue'rison." (Mother, the school principal at the Science Academy said that I have the Healing Gift.)
Christine's eyes widened at her son's statement. "Le Don de Gue'rison?" (The Healing Gift?) she asked, surprise evident in her voice.
*Healing Gift, indeed!* thought Spock, coming back to reality as his wife and son continued their conversation, the three of them entering their home a short time later. *And Vulcan knows that Dr. McCoy is going to be unbearably pleased about this once he learns of it. Perhaps he will even "dance a jig" and click his heels with a silly grin on his face. Humans!*
Spock allowed himself an affectionately exasperated sigh. *How boring my existence would be without them!* At this thought, something close to a fond smile played on Spock's lips for a few seconds before he turned on his heel and headed for his computer to make a holovid to contact the good Doctor, who had retired from Starfleet to raise his orphaned grandson Warren McCoy-Jones, now roughly the same age as Sendet.
He would see Jim and Gillian as soon as they returned from their vacation on Earth, tell them this latest news then. It would be interesting to see their reactions -- not to mention those of their children Jack and Leonora. *Enough of this idle thought,* Spock scolded himself. *There are only 17.4 minutes until Christine is due to prepare the midday meal, and I want to be ready for it.*
With that, he told the computer to turn on, making sure it was in 'holovid record' mode, and began. "Greetings, Dr. McCoy. I hope this finds you and your grandson well. I have learned a fascinating thing about my son Sendet today, which I am sure will please you immensely. This is how it came about..."