Holography

By

Patricia J. Foley

Spock entered the Terran embassy on Vulcan with a certain amount of curiosity concealed as rigidly as a near equal amount of trepidation. He had never been here before. A young human female looked up from her work and smiled at him.

"How can I assist you, sir?"

Spock's eyes widened a minute at that form of address, but he said cautiously, "I am here to request Terran citizenship."

"Terran...citizenship? I don't understand. Perhaps you mean a visa to travel on Terra?"

"No." Spock hesitated before he plunged on. Admitting the heritage he tried so hard to conceal was difficult, and personally somewhat embarrassing, but necessary to his goals. "My mother...is human, and a citizen of Terra...Earth. I am entitled, under Earth law, to claim Terran citizenship." The girl merely stared at him. "I intend to hold dual citizenship, Vulcan and Earth."

"You must be Dr. Grayson's son," the girl said, delighted to finally place this difficult customer.

Spock took a deep breath, mentally cursing having famous parents. But it was an unavoidable fact of his existence. He, himself, knew of no other Vulcan/Human hybrids, and his parents, unfortunately as it seemed at times to him, were both highly placed in their respective societies. And even in each other’s. "That is correct."

"I'll need a fax of your Federation birth certificate," the girl said, finally settling down to a respectable professionalism.

Spock produced the required document. The girl studied it and began punching keys while Spock waited. He caught himself shivering a little in the chill room and suppressed the response firmly. "Hmnn..." the girl finally murmured. "There's a slight problem."

"A problem?" Spock swallowed hard, seeing his plans crumble into dust.

"Well, not a big problem. I guess I can let you apply for this now. But I can't give it to you until Friday."

"Friday?" Spock asked numbly. He struggled to place the significance of the word. It was a day in the Terran calendar but he knew of no one who followed the Terran system of days on Vulcan. He wasn’t even sure what today would be in the Terran weekday. “And that would be?”

"Why it's your birthday, silly." The girl smiled at him. "The seventeenth of Tasmeen?” Shaking her head at her customer finally nodded. "You have to be of age to apply for Terran citizenship, or you have to have the parent holding citizenship apply for you. If you need this sooner, I can contact Dr. Grayson--" she reached for the comm.

"No!" Spock put out a hand to stop her, and then froze, flushing. “Friday...will be satisfactory.” The girl looked at him puzzled, then smiled.

"Oh, I see. It's a birthday surprise for your mom, right? You're going to claim joint citizenship on your birthday. Is that it?"

"Yes." Spock had no idea what he was agreeing to, but anything was better than this girl contacting his parents.

"That's sweet. Well, don't worry, mum's the word."

Spock stared at the girl, more confused than ever, but she went on punching keys unnoticed. "I'll have this ready for you on Friday. Here's a copy of your application to verify."

Spock took the copy from her. "It appears to be in order."

"Good. You keep that, it's proof of your application. Just stop by anytime on Friday. And if I'm not at the desk then, Happy Birthday, Spock."

Spock looked up from perusing his form to the smiling face of the clerk. This whole transaction had been unfamiliarly alien, but he knew the appropriate way to close it. And however illogical he found the phrase, he knew that where he was going, he had better get used to using it. "Thank you very much for your assistance."

"You're welcome."

Spock of Vulcan stepped out into the noonday heat of Shikhar, holding in his hand the copy of his request for Terran citizenship.

Back at the Science Academy, Spock appeared, exactly on time, for his meeting with his educational mentor.

"The term is not up for several weeks, Spock," the elder Vulcan had no spectacles, but he frowned down at his pupil in a manner easily recognizable to any Terran, though it was completely lost on his Vulcan pupil. "While you are an excellent student, and I suspect you will encounter no difficulties in your examinations, why would you wish to take them now?"

"I have finished the course of study, and see no logical reason to delay," Spock said evenly.

"Surely even you will benefit from the extra preparation time?"

"I have prepared." Spock met his mentor's eyes evenly. "I am confident that I am ready for the examinations. I accept full responsibility for my performance if unsatisfactory."

"I would advise against it," the teacher said dryly. "This request is most unprecedented. Still, this is your second advanced degree. You are well aware of the structure of the examinations you are facing. If that were not the case, I would refuse. But in this case... Very well, Spock, I accede to your request. Tomorrow, at the eighth hour."

"Yes, master." Spock made good his escape before the venerable instructor could think of a reason to refuse. Back in his student's cubicle, Spock delayed his final review for his examinations by bringing up a coded mail message on his terminal. The message flashed across the screen, while Spock's eyes devoured every English word. "Spock Xtmprszqzntwlfb has been accepted into Starfleet Academy, this acceptance commencing at his eighteenth birthday and legal Terran majority, assuming the necessary Terran citizenship has been obtained; acceptance in minority requiring verified permission by any and all parents or guardians..." He tore his eyes from the message, and punched up his final review preparations for his mren-to in astrophysics. His mother would call it a doctorate, but regardless of the term, Spock knew from his previous mren-to in computer science the exams were grueling. He had no time to waste, and he had to pass. He wanted to be free before the seventeen of Tasmeen. What had the girl called it? Friday. Of course. He knew the Terran names for weekdays, he had just never heard of anyone on Vulcan ever using a Terran calendar, or even trying to refer to time in that way. But the word was suddenly intoxicating, luring, compelling. Friday Yes. He would be free by Friday. Unconditionally.

Spock entered his home and stopped just inside the doorway. He looked around, curiously. This was the last time he would see his home this way -- through the eyes of dependent child. Whatever happened this evening, whether his parents approved or disapproved of his plans, whether he left with his parent's understanding, or having severed all his childhood ties, after this evening he would never be a child again. And it had nothing to do with how many days he had lived, or some obscure Terran law claiming he could now make independent decisions. Tonight, he would inform Sarek he would not follow the path Sarek had defined for him. Tonight, he would defy Sarek, for the first time. He did not count the defiance of an infancy he barely remembered, though he imagined, like all two-year-olds, he had demonstrated some. This would be the defiance of a independent person intent on his own goals. And for the first time, thanks to Terran citizenship and Federation law, he had the means to accomplish what he had long desired, and had so long repressed.

"Spock."

"Good evening, Mother."

Amanda turned to look at the section of stone he had been fixedly regarding. "What is so fascinating?"

"Nothing, Mother. My thoughts were elsewhere."

"I see." Amanda said, not unkindly. "You're home early. Shouldn’t you still be at school?"

"I have taken my exams. Two days ago."

"But the term isn't over yet."

"You are correct. I finished them early."

"But..." Amanda looked puzzled, then she shrugged and smiled. "Congratulations. I'm very proud of you Spock."

Spock lowered his head, flushing uncomfortably.

"Your father will be pleased."

"Hardly." Spock said evenly.

"Spock," Amanda chided, then looked at him worriedly. "Spock! You did pass?"

Spock flung his head up, startled. "Of course."

"Well, that's what I expected, especially with you taking them early, but you looked so hang dog."

Spock didn't understand 'hang dog' but he had no wish to listen to comments on his expression. "I passed with highest honors, as usual,” he said, perfunctorily. “Sarek will hardly be expecting otherwise." Spock did not comment that his father would tolerate nothing less. "But I am sure he would have preferred I take the examinations at the traditional time."

"You are too hard on your father." Amanda sighed and then relented. "Almost as hard as he is on you. You are probably right that he would have preferred you follow tradition. Still, he will be proud of you, Spock, even though he'll never show it. You're both incorrigible in that regard. Well, he will be home soon, you can tell him then."

"I shall." Spock said grimly.

"Don't look so worried, honey. Your father will be pleased, you'll see. Though I don't know what you are going to do before the next term starts. Have you thought about that? About what your plans are for the future?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm sure your father will want to discuss them with you tonight."

Spock took a deep breath, feeling unaccountable butterflies at the mention of that discussion. He touched the flap of his carry bag surreptitiously just for the reassuring crackle of the heavy parchment, official looking document, hidden inside, that proclaimed his Terran citizenship. "If you will excuse me, mother, I must meditate on my plans."

"Of course, Spock. Until dinner. And don't worry about Sarek."

Spock climbed the stairs to his room, wondering grimly if there was anyone in the Federation, besides his mother, who would face the prospect of an interview with Sarek unconcerned. Well, perhaps T'Pau. His grandmother was formidable enough herself. But then, she had raised Sarek. Spock wondered, not for the first time, how his mother came to marry his father, and why she was the only being in his experience who treated his father, at least in the privacy of their home, with such a shocking lack of deference. And why Sarek tolerated it. It was a mystery he would never be given the information to solve. And it was improper even to speculate about it. Spock resigned himself to ignorance, and sitting down at his desk, once again lost himself in contemplation of his exciting future. "Spock Xtmprszqzntwlfb, upon..."

Spock entered his father's study firmly suppressing his trepidation. He was not an errant child reporting for discipline, but a VSA graduate, twice over. Surely he could make a decision about the school he wished next to attend. But as Sarek walked behind the desk where he had delivered so many lectures and punitive corrections Spock felt himself tense. The elder Vulcan did not sit down, nor gesture his son to a chair, but fixed him with a disapproving stare. "I have been informed Spock, that you have completed your current studies. I am at a loss to understand why you would choose to terminate them early."

Spock seethed inwardly at this evidence of Sarek's information network, but replied evenly, "The requirements were completed. There was no need to delay."

Sarek raised an ironic brow. "And you consider it suitable to merely satisfy minimum requirements?"

"They were not 'minimum'. Since you were informed of my completion, I must assume you were also told I received highest honors."

"Do not be impertinent, Spock. A researcher seeks to complete his work as soon as feasibly possible, but a student does well to respect the conventions of his role. You do not know that significant discoveries might not have come to light before the end of your term, discoveries which would have benefited your understanding of your subject."

"Significant discoveries will be made, both before and after the end of this term. I see no reason to base my decisions on such circumstances."

"Obviously," Sarek said dryly. "You may be intellectually gifted compared to your peers, but that will avail you little if you continue to demonstrate such a lack of respect, discipline and regard for the intellectual process. You would do well, in the time remaining before the start of the next term, to review your study of the disciplines."

Spock caught himself lowering his eyes like a pre-Kahs wan child at Sarek's acerbic tone, and raised them, inwardly furious, but attempting to keep his expression neutral. "I completed that study, 5.8 years ago, also with highest honors."

"And if your practice of those disciplines equaled your supposed understanding,” Sarek replied calmly, every word a barb, “ I would not need to make such a recommendation."

Spock flushed, but held his ground. "I have other plans," he said slowly, "before the start of the next term."

Sarek gestured his son to a chair, and sat down himself. "Indeed. I am listening."

Spock ignored the gesture. "I have no plans to take another degree from the science academy."

"I have been told that you have been offered a research position there.”

Spock said nothing, waiting.

“I am also told,” Sarek said slowly, since it was clear Spock would not speak. “That you refused this honor. Have you reconsidered?"

"I am curious," Spock said, controlling his words along with his temper, "if you were informed of the offer prior or subsequent to my being informed of it."

"That is irrelevant. I am mystified at your reasons for refusal."

"What mystifies me is why the offer, my refusal, and my reasons were communicated to you at all. It was a private matter between those involved."

"Academy appointments are a matter of public record, Spock. Such a refusal is extremely rare. I could understand, and accept, your prior refusal in favor of a choice to take a second degree. But this second refusal is unprecedented, reflects upon you poorly, and is insulting to those who offered it. I expect you to reconsider. Immediately."

"Would not such a reconsideration reflect even more poorly upon me," Spock said softly, almost dangerously. "It would indicate prior poor judgment."

Sarek frowned. "On the contrary, it would indicate that you took the counsel of your elders. You are very young, Spock. Allowances will be made for that. This time." The warning was plain, and Spock firmly repressed an inward shiver. He had not given Sarek cause to administer any major discipline in some time. Although he had come to consider himself beyond that, from the warning he’d just given Sarek apparently thought otherwise. The realization only moved his spirit of independence to something close to rebellion.

"I have no desire to take a position at the Science Academy," Spock said flatly.

Sarek raised an dismissive eyebrow. "Desire has little to do with this. You should be considering your duty, and what is proper. You are being accorded an honor, Spock. Many renowned researchers contend for positions at the Academy. You seem unaware of what you are refusing."

Spock lowered his eyes. Considering his own last statement, Sarek's reproof was a model of patient control he had not expected. Gratitude with the generous leniency of Sarek's statement warred with is own envy of that control, and his own doubt that he could ever truly emulate it. And soon he would prove himself unworthy of even as much leniency as Sarek had shown. "I have considered, but I have chosen otherwise."

"And what choice is this?"

Spock sat down abruptly, the better to hide his suddenly clenched hands. He wanted to deny Sarek the right to know his plans, to avoid the upcoming conflict, but he knew it was inevitable. "I have applied, and been accepted, to start the next term at Starfleet Academy."

Sarek was silent a moment, two, three. Spock was aware the length of his father's silence was a measure of his disapproval. Finally, Sarek drew breath and spoke, an edge to his voice Spock had not heard for some years, and that filled him with quiet dread. "We will not discuss Starfleet again. It is obvious you have been given far too much time and freedom, to waste it in such disreputable pursuits as applying to that institution. I have seriously underestimated your maturity. That will be remedied, I assure you. I, myself, will communicate your acceptance of the Science Academy appointment immediately, commencing tomorrow. For now, you are dismissed, Spock. I’ll inform you of my intended discipline later. "

Spock rose out of habit, but did not leave. "You can dismiss me, but my plans remain unchanged. I did not appraise you of my decision to gain your approval, but merely to inform you, as a courtesy."

"A courtesy." Sarek paused. "Then I will accord you the same courtesy, and inform you of an alteration in your plans. You will attend the Science Academy tomorrow, and take up your new duties. I have no intention of allowing my son, or any Vulcan of our clan, for that matter, to attend the institution of that barbaric, war-mongering arm of the Federation. You will discount whatever propaganda resulted in your taking leave of your senses long enough to even consider such a course. Whether you seek my approval or not, you do not have my permission."

"I was not taken in by propaganda. I am capable of unbiased research into an option, and rational decision, and I have done both. Further, I do not require your permission."

"You are barely a child. You are subject to my authority. And mine alone," Sarek added the latter, almost as a warning.

"By Vulcan standards, that is true, but by Terran standards, I am no longer a child."

"You are not Terran, Spock." Sarek said tersely.

"No, but I am half-Terran." Spock wondered what possessed him to say that to Sarek, who had always informed his son he was Vulcan, demanded the strictest of Vulcan standards, and ignored the obvious facts of his son's heritage. As Sarek raised shocked eyes to him, Spock continued quickly, before his father completely excoriated him. "I have claimed dual citizenship. By Terran standards I became an adult upon reaching my eighteenth standard year, which commenced today."

Sarek's eyes flashed. "You claimed--" The elder Vulcan rose abruptly. His father's height, his flashing eyes, the silver-slashed black tunic with the clan markings designating him both head of clan and High Council, the swift motion and palpable anger as Sarek rose to his full height intimidated Spock as effectively as if he were still a pre-Kahs Wan child facing a lematya. He had spent too many years wary of this man. Despite himself, Spock flinched backward. Sarek immediately caught himself. Whatever he had been about to do, he settled for glaring down at his recalcitrant child. "I forbid this," he said with finality.

Spock had mastered his instinctive reaction, engendered from years of harsh discipline. He felt less shame at his slip than pride that even at their joint history, he could and did face Sarek down evenly now. "It is done."

"It was done without my consent, and it was ill-judged. That citizenship will be revoked at once, and your refusal of the Starfleet appointment communicated. Your behavior only further convinces me of your immaturity. I can see your education has been seriously flawed. That flaw will, I assure you, be addressed."

Spock sat down slowly, refusing to acknowledge the cold chill that flooded him. "Would it not be extremely insulting to the Terrans, to commit those actions, perhaps have them communicated to the interstellar press? It would hardly further Vulcan interests in the Federation."

"You intend holding a press conference?" Sarek asked caustically, "Perhaps you believe the interstellar press will be interested in the story of a recalcitrant child being prevented from an ill-judged action?"

Spock refused to allow the emotions he felt to show on his face. He had no doubt Sarek regarded him as merely that. "I have already confirmed the Starfleet appointment. Such a confirmation, from an individual holding Terran majority, which I now do, is a legal commitment. With their acknowledgement, Starfleet communicated their intention of holding such a conference, to announce their first acceptance of a Vulcan." Spock lowered his eyes. "I do not claim your competence in political matters, but I do believe the actions you contemplate would not be politically opportune."

Sarek stared at his son for a long moment as if Spock had displayed an unexpected attack in a here-to-now uninspiring chess game. "Indeed. You have, then, created a situation in which diplomatic extrication would prove difficult. But not impossible."

"Extrication is not necessary. And even if successful, will not change my intentions. I wish to study scientific phenomena in the field, not the laboratory, and I wish to explore my mother's culture as well. I do not wish to and will not teach at the Vulcan Science Academy."

"You disappoint me. After many years of patient instruction, the differences between duty and desire appear to continue to be lost on you."

"Hardly.” Spock replied, barely controlling his temper. “I have fulfilled my duty for 18 standard years. I have exceeded at every task you and Vulcan have set for me --"

"That is debatable."

"Very well.” Spock acknowledged coldly. “Although your personal opinion differs, officially I have gained highest honors in every discipline and course of study either you or the council have set. I have completed my education as regards Vulcan, obtaining not one but two advanced degrees. But I have a personal duty to myself as well as a duty to Vulcan. I intend to fulfill that now by a course of study in what is important to me."

"Duty does not end with the cessation of formal education. You have a responsibility to disseminate that knowledge which has been granted to you."

"I cannot teach others when I find myself so ignorant of my own heritage. And as you have pointed out, sir, there are many eager for such distinction. My contribution will not be missed."

"A duty unfulfilled is always missed."

"Then I must be delinquent, which no doubt will fulfill the opinion you have always had of me."

"You intend to deny your responsibilities, against my stated objections?"

"I did not make my decision unaware of what your opinion would be, of myself or of my duties. Your arguments I have anticipated and previously considered. I have made my choice."

"As a scientist, Spock, you should be aware of the folly of choosing before one is truly in possession of all the relevant data. Consider this, before you act upon this folly. You are my son, my heir, the heir of Vulcan's ruling clan, trained in the disciplines, having chosen," Sarek virtually thundered the word, "Vulcan as a life's path. If you turn your back on the heritage you have been raised within, a heritage you have previously chosen, then you turn it irrevocably. I will not have a 'Terran' child. Xtmprszqzntwlfb will not have a Terran heir. Act upon this new course, Spock, and you will be disowned, and disinherited of your position in this clan. Your former life will be closed to you.”

This was worse than Spock had hoped, but not more than he had considered might happen. He had always known Sarek might play that trump card. That Sarek drew it so quickly and so early in this discussion merely told him how adamantly his father opposed his plans. He had never counted on Sarek’s acceptance, but he had hoped for something less than total rejection. Hating himself for it, he tried for a conciliatory attitude, while still holding firm to his plans. "I do not turn my back on my heritage. My claim of citizenship is no more than what is my right, but I am Vulcan. I will go as a Vulcan to Starfleet. I had planned to return home after my tour of duty."

"There are no Vulcans in Starfleet."

"Then it is time for a first."

"That first will not be my son. I repeat, Spock, that if you go to Starfleet, you are no longer my son."

Spock said nothing for a moment, then after a moment of forcing himself to accept what he had known might come to pass, he remarked calmly. "If you insist. It is your right."

"One I intend to invoke should you defy your duty. I suggest you immediately reconsider. Now, child!"

Spock stood abruptly, and pushed back his chair, tacitly refusing Sarek’s order. For more than a decade, he had immediately come to heel like a whipped sehlat at that tone of voice. And for good reason; Sarek had infinite persuasions to ensure that he did. But Sarek had to learn it was no more. And he had to learn it himself. He was no child engaging in willful rebellion, and this oddly enough made his defiance harder, because it was so deliberate and so final. He could renege on his agreements, accepts Sarek’s disciplines and all would be unpleasant, but his life would not significantly change. Or he could close the door once and for all on his childhood, for both himself and his father. And with that door closed, he had something to say that as a child he had never been able to say. Internally he was shaking, but his voice was surprisingly firm. "I suspected, but did not truly believe until today, that IDIC was a myth preached but not lived. From my earliest memories, you have warned me that any deviation from your standards would forfeit my acceptance as your heir. I have long suspected that I have never been your son, by my right or your desire. The forfeiture you have long predicted has come to pass. The heir you required me to become was as much of a myth as the belief in IDIC I once held. It is regrettable we have wasted so long in pursuit of a false ideal, but its exposure was inevitable. It is as well we discovered the discrepancy now."

"You are insubordinate, child."

"I am insubordinate, but I am no longer a child. However, I will not remain to trouble you further."

"I do not dismiss you."

Spock halted, and swung around to face his father. His face was carefully blank, his expression as controlled as his father's, but his eyes were dangerous. "You have no rights in the matter. I expect you to formally disown me, but I dissolve the relationship now. I freely acknowledge from this time forth that I am no longer your son, and have no rights as your heir. With that, you have no claim over my actions."

"You are reacting emotionally."

Spock's expression did not change. "Perhaps. But emotion does not invalidate truth." He turned again.

"Spock, come here. Spock!"

The door to his study closed behind his son, and for the briefest of moments, Sarek considered following him, then rejected it in favor of confirming his son's assertions. Within moments, he had confirmation both his son's Terran citizenship, and his confirmed appointment to Starfleet.

Accustomed to the intricacies of Terran diplomacy, Sarek considered the problem his son had presented him with. There was, of course, no precedent for the established end of minority for a Vulcan/Terran hybrid. Spock was the first. It might be possible to claim his son too immature to be legally bound to his actions, but there was the fact of his Science Academy appointment, twice a matter of record, and his educational status. Perhaps, if Spock contritely cooperated with Sarek's plans, the attempt might succeed, though not without some damage to Vulcan integrity, but his behavior made it obvious that would not occur. Spock's reference to press conferences was a tacit threat to that required cooperation. Vulcan's opposition to Starfleet was an issue of long contention in its relations with the Federation. Spock could not have chosen an institution more prone to trumpet their acceptance of a Vulcan, or more likely to generate conflict over his unwilling withdrawal. Spock had indeed chosen well.

In the privacy of his own study, of his own mind, Sarek's temper flared. Undisciplined, unworthy child! The years of effort he had spent in ensuring his son's acceptance as his heir, thrown away in one ill-judged action. An action with interstellar consequences. And as much as he wanted to act on his own convictions, this was not solely a personal matter. T'Pau would have to be informed immediately. Even if his actions did not involve the disposition of her eventual heir, the political implications alone required her to be informed, and it were best done in person. Sarek strode out of his office in pursuit of his aircar.

In the sanctuary of his own bedroom, Spock paused just inside the door. His emotions were barely under control, and it took him some moments to subdue them to a level where he could function. He had never expected anything but Sarek's disapproval, but while he had considered Sarek might take this final, irrevocable step, he had hoped, illogically hoped, it would not come to pass.

All the years he had struggled to meet Sarek's standards, vainly sought Sarek's approval, always rejected, yet hoping that if he just worked harder, drove himself more sternly, he would attain that elusive goal. He had known better. Intellectually, he had long calculated Sarek's behavior, and determined that the goal was insurmountable. But emotionally, he had still hoped. And now, after fulfilling all Sarek requirements to the highest standards, to be disowned, discarded, like a hopelessly flawed item, was incredibly painful. Spock vision clouded against unexpected, long-denied tears, and he closed his eyes tightly, rejecting them. It took another minute of emotion controlling exercises to suppress his reaction, and when he had done so, he put his emotional reaction firmly aside. He had learned emotional control early, and practiced it often. It was surprisingly easy to bury emotion, if one did not think about the situation that caused it, and one buried oneself in work. And he had work. He did not want to take much, but he had to pack something, for he was leaving in the morning, perhaps even tonight. He doubted Sarek would succumb to any such dramatic gesture as immediately expelling him from the house, but it was possible. It was best to be ready to leave at the earliest opportunity.

T'Pau kept late hours as she aged, and she was just taking tea on her terrace. She responded to his news with no discernable emotion. Sarek, who knew well how her caustic comments and flashing eyes could accent her controlled expression, was surprised at how calm and indifferent she seemed to Spock's plans.

"It is a great temptation, this interest in Terrans," she remarked, carefully pouring hot water over her favorite blend of leaves, as unmoved as if Sarek had just told her Spock preferred kava to quist juice with his breakfast. "But, it is not unprecedented that one, of even our best youth, would desire to study among them. In fact, it is an affliction that seems particularly prevalent among our best youth. Nor is it unprecedented that one should go. At present 57 of our youth are so engaged." T'Pau met Sarek's gaze with her own compelling one. "I am not surprised that Spock should be so affected. He has more reason then they to be interested in Terrans. And he has the example of one in his own family to succumb to that interest."

Sarek flushed at this reference to Amanda. "Spock has obligations beyond those others."

"He is fulfilling his obligations at present, is he not?” She glanced at Sarek, setting aside her tea to steep. “He seems to have excelled in his studies, which in a child of his age, is all one can expect. Surely he has no council duties. Unless you plan to relinquish your hereditary seat to your child now,” she gave him a dry glance, “he has many years yet before his services will be required.”

“This is not an area in which he should express interest.”

“Indeed.” T’Pau was unmoved. “Your interest and actions did not disqualify you from your position as my heir. I see no reason that Spock's interest should disqualify him. He wishes no more than to attend a Terran school, a desire which is shared by many of his generation, and which some have acted upon."

"There is the situation he has been awarded at the academy, a position of honor which he has declined, now, for the second time.

T'Pau tilted her head slightly, the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug. "He is only a child, overly young for such a position. Few of his age have yet to finish formal education, much less a first mren-to. His wish for further instruction before undertaking such responsibilities as teaching is understandable.”

“If that were the case, he can pursue further studies at the Science Academy.”

“We have justifiable pride in the Academy,” T’Pau acknowledged. “Perhaps it is, as the Terrans themselves have said, an institution unequalled in the Federation. But he has taken two degrees with two different mentors there, has he not? I was informed he just passed his second mren-to with highest honors -- and much before the end of the term. Which must effectively silence those who claimed the first must have been obtained via favoritism or influence. I can well believe that a third course of study at the same institution lacks...” she paused, considering... “a certain value. Children seek varied instruction. It is not surprising Spock has sought diversity elsewhere. He will have many years yet to devote to instruction and research at the Science Academy upon his return. However little I may regard Terran science, or their institutes of education, he will undoubtedly learn something there of value."

"It is what he will learn there that lacks value that concerns me, T'Pau."

T’Pau sipped her tea, appeared satisfied, and set her cup aside. "It is a minor indulgence, Sarek, which I cannot see any particular reason to deny. He is a scientist. You, yourself, have been instrumental in promoting such scientific exchanges with the Federation. Surely you do not disagree that our best young researchers, which Spock must be so considered, are more than well-equipped to meet Terrans on their own ground."

"Our best researchers are not children and your heir."

"If he were not your son and heir, you would not be opposed,” T’Pau pointed out. “Spock is very young, but he is not unworthy. He has taken responsibility for his actions since his Kahs Wan, and brought honor to our clan. I have not a single censure with which to regard the child, which, considering his heritage, is a commendation I never expected to grant. In view of his excellent performance thus far, I am thus inclined to approve such a request. Indeed, I fail to see why you oppose it."

"It is more than a school, T'Pau, it is Starfleet Academy."

"That is true.” T’Pau nodded in sage consideration. “Vulcan has heard much of both the merits and flaws of this institution and its role in the Federation. But our data has always been acquired second-hand from humans. It has been a source of much conflict and concern, this militaristic branch of the Federation. It will be useful to have an internal opinion from someone trained in the disciplines. Spock will be of great service to Vulcan in that regard." She glanced at him wryly. “I wonder that you did not consider that benefit.”

"His training in the disciplines may not protect him from contamination of those standards by human values,” Sarek argued. “He is young, T'Pau. Too young for this action."

"He is no younger than the Terrans who would also attend,” the matriarch pointed out. “Do you doubt the strength of our disciplines against such Terrans?"

"Would you have Terrans teach your heir, T'Pau?" Sarek challenged.

"I have a Terran as mother to my heir, Sarek,” the matriarch countered dryly, with a flash of her black eyes. “While I did not choose it, and would not have had it, the choice was forced on me. And Spock, against my wishes, has proven himself worthy. How can this then affect him? If Spock has survived his half-human heritage, and his mother's influence all of these many years to master and surpass our disciplines, and excel as he has done, how can a few years in a Terran school affect him?"

"He has excelled in testing as a child, on Vulcan, in essentially a virtual situation. With proper mentors at hand,” Sarek added. “This reality may prove otherwise."

“Do you consider achieving two mren-tos the actions of a child?” the matriarch countered. When Sarek had no immediate answer, T’Pau shrugged. "Let us speak plainly. He has succeeded where many, where most, full Vulcans fail, to a standard few Vulcans meet, and with handicaps no full Vulcans have faced. I will not refute his accomplishments or deny him his position, earned by birth and merit, because you are momentarily displeased with his plans, Sarek. I am not your pawn, and he is my heir.”

“That remains to be seen.” Sarek said. “I will speak plainly, T’Pau. I will have no son in Starfleet.”

She fixed her son with a baleful look. “You have no other heir, full Vulcan, or otherwise, to present to me.” She shrugged again and raised her hand in a dismissing gesture. “No. I will not refute him for such a trifling reason as this. He is bonded to T'Pring. His heirs will no doubt be acceptable. His life is here, regardless of whether he is educated by Terrans for a few of their years. I have no concerns, Sarek. If you do, then provide another heir, preferably one full Vulcan this time. And train him quickly and well. Very well. Although I was forced to acknowledge Spock in Council, acknowledge him I did. Nothing he has done has broached his honor or my obligations to him. Regardless of my own wishes, I can not, in honor, see him put aside, even for a full Vulcan heir you might present to me. Unless such a one proves himself far more accomplished than your first."

"You require the impossible, T'Pau." Sarek grated. What T’Pau was demanding was essentially that he put aside his bond with Amanda, take a second, Vulcan bondmate, and raise a new heir. Even then she was not promising to accept such an heir in lieu of Spock, but intimated she would evaluate the two. Unless the boy were very gifted, or Spock became far more noticeably human and flawed than his present condition indicated, the outcome was by no means predictable. In addition, by that point Spock might well then have heirs of his own, and there would be T’Pring’s position and family to consider as well. The conflicts between two potential heirs among the council, with dissention split among T’Pring’s politically powerful clan, would be immensely disruptive. And this all assumed that he himself could even survive his first pon far with someone other than his chosen bondmate. The price T’Pau was exacting was incredibly high, far more than Sarek was willing to pay. It required Sarek destroy his marriage, risk his life in a dangerous rebonding and pin his hopes on the abilities of a yet unborn child.

"Then resign yourself to the inevitable, Sarek, as I was forced to do. Spock has proven himself honorably, against far stricter standards than have ever been required of the heir to our clan. He fulfilled his obligation, and I have acknowledged that. I will not sully my honor for this… trivial dispute … between yourself and your child. And that is all that this is, nothing but normal adolescent curiosity and precociousness on his part, and lack of tolerance on yours. An heir can pursue far worse actions than wishing to attend an unorthodox school against his father's wishes."

"It is unworthy and disrespectful of his position as heir to even consider it, and disobedient to pursue it."

"On the contrary, I am actually relieved to discover he has some interests other than what you dictate.” T’Pau gave him an even glance. “ An heir must be able to lead, Sarek, and not merely obey, as you apparently would wish. I knew Spock once had spirit, but I seen little evidence of it lately, unless diligence in study could be so regarded. I feared it had perhaps been crushed under your authority. That would have been a source of far more regret to me than this minor defiance." T’Pau looked at her own stubborn heir with the barest trace of affection, the first since they’d begun the discussion. “You had spirit enough to defy me, Sarek, and to force me to accept this child. Do you not expect to see such a trait in him as well?”

"What I expect is an acknowledgement of his duties,” Sarek said, rejecting T’Pau’s personal argument. “Spock's actions are unworthy of the responsibilities in which he was raised. I cannot and do not accept them. Nor will I acknowledge a son who acts thusly,” Sarek shook his head decisively. “Know this, T’Pau, I will have no son in Starfleet.”

T'Pau flicked an eyebrow. "I cannot prevent you from undertaking any personal action. Your son is yours to train. You may chastise your child as you please. You may even disown him as you suggest, if your disciplinary actions fail and you choose to refute the parental relationship. That is your choice as parent.” She glanced at him meaningfully. “But his status as your official heir, and thus as my heir, was sanctioned by Council and sealed by me. It is beyond personal matters. In the absence of proper cause, and without a suitable replacement, I find no reason now to refute his status. You may bring the proposal up in Council, but I caution you now that I will not support his removal, unless in future, Spock proves himself truly unworthy. Deny him if you choose. If you have disowned him, he will then answer solely to me, for I will not deny him. My approval is hard won, but once given, I do not lightly cast it aside."

Your refusal to act now, T’Pau, could bring that action to pass,” Sarek said ominously.

"Perhaps. But such is life. Children can be difficult, Sarek, and unpredictable. But I acknowledge that I have had more practice in accepting such deviant behavior than you. After all, you have not had a son and heir of yours yet marry a Terran and present you with a half-Terran heir. If you had, perhaps you would accept such inconsequential trifles as this in stride."

Sarek's eyes flashed, but he turned and left his mother without further comment. T'Pau allowed herself a slight sigh before returning to her own duties.

Spock raised his head from his packing at the knock on the door. He didn't need to ask who it was. It was a Terran custom and one his mother occasionally succumbed to, when her mind was distracted by other concerns. He pressed the door release.

Amanda entered, and took in the sight of his packing with surprising equilibrium. "Perhaps someone might tell me what is going on in this house?"

"To what do you refer?"

Amanda smiled ruefully. "Your father suddenly disappears after your discussion, when he had no meetings scheduled. I have an inkling where he might have gone. But you,” her gaze fell on his carrybag, “appear to be leaving as well, and going on a rather longer journey. Perhaps you might deviate from your father's example enough to tell me where you're going?"

Spock flinched inwardly as his mother unknowingly touched a nerve, but replied calmly. "It would be best if Sarek informed you."

"Oh dear." Amanda sat down on the bed, but she was still smiling a little. "That sounds serious."

"Sarek and I have had a disagreement."

"So far that is nothing new." Amanda shrugged, folding her arms and waiting patiently. “Based on the little you told me this afternoon, I was rather expecting something of this sort.”

"The disagreement was about my next course of study."

“So I assumed.” Amanda looked down at the quilt covering the bed, smoothing it absently. “You want to take a doctorate in 5th dimensional mathematics instead of molecular engineering? Or is it something really terrible, like English Literature?"

Spock was not in the mood to be teased. "I applied to Starfleet Academy."

For a moment, Amanda didn't react at all, the slight smile still playing around her lips, looking up at him quizzically. Then she sat up a little straighter, a line appearing between her brows, her hands now flat on the quilt. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Of course I am serious,” Spock said, mystified over such a response. “And I was accepted."</