Amanda. Amanda; AMANDA! Oh please no. —should have. I am Vulcan; I cannot. Why, why, did you stay? All those years—cannot love you. Spock where are you? Spock; I feel so ashamed that I—

"Ambassador Sarek." The voice—the ship's captain's—was restrained and brought Sarek out of his thoughts. Sarek brushed away some of the residue still clouding his mind then looked briefly to the candle burning in front of him before snuffing it out and allowing the captain to enter.

"We are in Vulcan's atmosphere." Sarek gave a nod to acknowledge.

"My aids will see to my effects; I will go to the transporters momentarily." Sarek answered. He went to ready himself. Both he and the captain did not linger over goodbyes. The captain went up the hall towards the bridge; Sarek observed his assigned room with precision. Noting that most of his things had been packed up and taken away already, he threw on, and hid his PADD and his mediation candle in lining of, his cloak. As a calculated effect, it appeared to the passing crewmembers in the adjoining hall when Sarek walked out that only Sarek's form was under the cloak as though the ambassador just needed his thoughts. The crewmembers saluted him but did not linger. Each going on, he and them, to where needed.

Sarek noted the change from the various Starfleet ships sent to replenish his supplies on Excalbia during the 2.03 years he spent negotiating a permanent scientific settlement. The change was most apparent in the sustained still of the transporter room crew. On the last Federation starship to bring supplies, the USS Hestia, the crew acted in a jovial manner until they noted Sarek approach. He had often considered if he should remind them of a Vulcan's superior hearing— his impressions were minimal when they compensated only for their own.

After stepping onto the platform, Sarek was on Vulcan in moments. Its heat hit him hard, and bits of loose ground kicked around his feet. At a short distance was his home that was cut slightly into the surrounding mountains. Sarek noted the slight changes in his villa sheltered in the landscape—new aides inside he recognized only by their Federation profiles, the dulled paint stained ruddy by the dirt; the now lack of a human scent that had been still present even on the 12.67 day of Amanda's death two years ago. In the interim of Sarek leaving for Excalbia it had faded. He remained in that spot long enough observing the changes to hear a hovercar. The approach was not straight due to the jutting rocks that distorted its trajectory; Sarek fell back to his front door so the small clearing where he'd stood could be taken over by it. A few of his aides came out to him.

With concern for the unplanned visit, Sarek fell behind them as they barricaded against the hovercar. All his aides were trained by his chief of staff in Suus Mahna, Vulcan martial arts.

The occupants of the hovercar did not jump to address the confusion of a possible altercation. He and his aides listened intently. Sarek could hear some of the whispered sounds from inside the vehicle but leaned his ears towards it to pick up more of the conversation: "No…yes, it took some time but I forgot…for two years", "He married a human so he'll… Mr. Landover just step outside please, just ask and we'll leave if…" In response, Sarek walked over to the hovercar, waving off his aides who reshuffled out behind him regardless. He knew the one of the visitors was Ambassador Reynard Landover; Sarek had met him numerous times in his negotiations with the Legarians. Strangely for a man of his proven, over their association, diplomatic gifts, he'd been sent to a nearby planet of no diplomatic importance: Tele XI. In that particular section of the galaxy most Federation activities were conducted on Station 452. Sarek and Ambassador Landover had met whenever the Legarians felt new talks were necessary as Landover had lived on the station. They met rarely but enough. Sarek wiped out thoughts of sending Landover away. Instead he commanded his aides to replicate a glass of Merlot.

Reason suggested that the human would change in the 14 years since Sarek had last seen him.

As Reynard finally emerged, he moaned in pain; a light breeze was enough to drag off several strands of his thinning hair. Sarek noted the presence of slight to moderate tics in his hands and face predominantly, though other areas of his body did seem to display uncontrolled movements as well. Some of the muscle tone he'd maintained at the gym on Station 452 and in lirpa duels between Sarek and he had been lost; his skin hung in folds. A young human woman, a caretaker, guided the bulky chair that he sat in towards the Villa.

Sarek walked into his home beside Reynard. Once through the sliding doors, the Vulcan and his human guests exchanged greetings, though Sarek observed human customs and extended his hand to both. Something familiar to them, Sarek mused. The gesture relaxed both and broke a small smile on Landover's face.

"We're not a bother?"

"I returned only 8 minutes ago; I have not had the time to arrange for any other activities." Only Landover fell to ease that this answer. His blunt tone unnerved the caretaker who backed away. Sarek directed them further through the house.

The merlot was waiting on a small end table near the back wall of a wide room, its only features a wall length fountain and a cache of couches. Reynard was wheeled next to the glass and Sarek sat to the side of him. Waving away the caretaker who migrated just to the next room, Reynard turned to Sarek.

"Really, we can leave." He said.

"It is not the Vulcan way to turn away honored guests; for one that I may never again speak to… I hesitate especially." Sarek allowed a hint of concern for an old human associate.

Reynard laughed, but bowed his head. Silence. Suddenly he began to shake and snob; Sarek waited for his guest to calm himself but his emotions continued to rise. Sarek called for the caretaker once he detected Reynard's breathing becoming erratic. Getting over to him quickly and taking in his condition, she reached for a pouch around her waist. A hypospray lulled him enough so she could talk him down into drowsiness, and the increasing effects of the drug eventually caused Reynard to sleep. But sleeping did not affect the overall wasting appearance of his condition from some of the finer details of pain refusing to ease away.

Sarek observed the process calmly.

It was efficient—the caretaker knowing. A look at her pouch noted it filled with vials. Perhaps, Sarek mused, he would be seeing this process more than once regardless that he hadn't intended to host his guest past the evening. Then he would be alone, as Reynard appeared to be in the professional distance of his caretaker, his aides gone home, and no others but he occupying the villa. This thought caused him to walk out into the gardens. Sarek went through a indiscernible door that had been set into the glass making up the back wall; it made the gardens look like a painting due to their vibrancy even at night. The caretaker seemed relieved to be alone with Landover and mimed thanks to Sarek through the glass. He'd caught the gesture on the edge of his focus, Amanda's row of poppies. The flowers were bright and grew close together. Sarek was often surprised that the plant's hue did not disturb his human wife whose blood was a similar color. He avoided the thought; he decided to study the cactuses.

"Ambassador Sarek." He turned. Standing close to another doorway leading from his offices, his chief of staff waited to be acknowledged. Sarek nodded for him to continue.

"A call from the federation embassy in ShiKahr. Valor." The messenger implied the importance; Sarek didn't ask for any further explanation.

"I will answer it." Sarek pointed to Landover. "Have a room prepared, as a precaution."

Both walked through his offices, though Sarek stopped at a large granite desk; his chief of staff turned left into the hall that came out to where the guests were.

Sarek sat before an angled screen. It beeped until he spoke.

"Ambassador Sarek."

The screen lit up. First showing the federation seal, then displaying the image of Tim Valor, Head of Federation Bureau of Planetary Treaties. He saluted Sarek.

"Peace and long life."

"I come to serve." Sarek folded his hands together, not returning the guesture. There were those, Sarek noted, it was best not to observe too many courtesies towards. Valor didn't address it; he relayed his information quickly.

"Hate to say it; all federation ambassadors, except for those on priority missions, are being recalled to San Francisco." Valor leaned back as he continued.

"There was a serious breach in security on Ferenginar. Two ambassadors were kidnapped and killed. In relation to what is still being investigated, but we do feel it could have been prevented. We want to get some new information on the attacks and your, everybody's, input on…" he swiveled his chair in thought, "what could be done differently. So in light of that, we'll be keeping you guys on hand over here for a bit." He ended his speech with a smile. Sarek was unmoved.

"That does not seem like a logical solution given the lack of an estimative time frame for our being recalled." At this Valor was serious.

"Yet… to do anything else wouldn't be reasonable."

"Perhaps you are correct." Sarek answered.

"Yes; we'll let you know where we want you. Send that to Kavik?"

"Myself directly, and yes, to Kavik. Live long and prosper." In light of the news, Sarek extended his hand in farewell; Valor showed relief.