Chapter One

The Meeting

An antique analog clock ticked in the background as a woman worked within the confines of her small office. The walls were freshly painted pastel green, though it was hard to tell in the blinding light that filtered in from the sunrise.

Various décor was strategically placed on walls and on surfaces, adding homely feel to an otherwise cramped workspace. Some of the frames perched on the surrounding bookshelves carried diplomas and degrees, the forefront of which was inscribed in a different script then usually seen on Earth; others featured smiling faces and milestone moments of a life well lived.

At the desk in the corner, the woman was absorbed by the contents of her handheld console; frustration was evident from the furrows in her brow. The tablet pen rested in her mouth - dangerously close to being chewed by anxious teeth.

A ringtone pierced the delicate quiet of the morning, and the woman jumped out of her thoughts. She swiveled in her chair for the source of the noise, throwing her hand-held onto her desk to become lost amidst the clutter. The button that would activate the video phone was just out of her reach because a pile of textbooks was in the way of her chair. She leaned one knee on it and stretched awkwardly to catch the touchscreen on the fifth ring. A serious face popped into view and eyed the woman with an irritated expression.

"Miss Grayson I presume." His voice mirrored the displeasure in his face, making the woman instinctively frown. The man was wearing a Starfleet uniform. She had nothing to do with military matters - on Earth or in space. Why did she have a decorated officer on the line, scowling at her - a civilian fresh out of graduate school - like she owed him something.

"You've reached Amanda Greyson. What can I do for you… ah..." she squinted to try and assess the man's rank, "…Admiral?" Her eyes betrayed her confusion, which didn't help the mood of the man she was conversing with.

He took a deep breath, which seemed to Miss Grayson like an appropriately manly version of a sigh, before he launched into the heart of the matter.

"Miss Grayson, we require your services at a diplomatic meeting in Seattle. Our Vulcan cultural expert is incapacitated and you are the only available representative qualified to translate the Vulcan language."

The woman blinked at the monitor, her eyebrows knitting themselves together as she struggled with the concept. "Admiral... most Vulcans, if not all of them, know English fluently. There should be no need for a translator. Also-"

"We are aware of that Miss Grayson, and the fact you are not on Starfleet's payroll." He interrupted, correctly assuming her next statement even though his wording was outdated. No one was on anyone's payroll. Not since the 2100's. His tone indicated that being non-militant was her failing, not his.

"We need someone well versed in their mannerisms so that no mistakes are made. Who knows what sort of things upset these Vulcans…"

At this the woman made to interrupt (firstly, because referring to Vulcans as 'these Vulcans' was a step in the wrong direction, and secondly, if such references were to be expected in the future… she was not an ambassador and would not apologize on behalf of Earth for Starfleet's terrible social skills) but before she could respectfully explain how she would be an inappropriate choice, but the Admiral continued.

"The meeting is in an hour. You are the only person we could contact. Consider it your duty to Earth."

Controlled anger colored the woman's cheeks, but she consented. What else could she do when staring down an Admiral as crotchety as this one? After writing down instructions on what to do and how to get to the meeting place, she waved her screen to power down and then stared into space.

A cat crawled its way out of a carpeted box hidden in some recess and rubbed it's side against Miss Grayson's leg. The annoyance at her unexpected call melted somewhat as the woman reached for the animal and placed it on her lap.

"Odd start to the day." Amanda addressed the cat, her eyes still staring at nothing in particular. "An Admiral asking for assistance from me… a young'un fresh from university."

Miss Grayson shifted her focus to the diploma on the bookshelf. It was for completing the Vulcan Studies program last year. She was only one of a hundred students across the country. Most considered interest in a planet one would never see a waste of time; after all, Starfleet and their diplomats had their own course through the military. Miss Grayson and her civilian colleagues were guided by more than thoughts on finances, power and time. Vulcan sociology, language, values… all of it was so rewarding to someone who lived in a cultural melting pot for the last two decades.

Well, that's what she told herself anyway. In truth she didn't really feel comfortable with the hand life was giving her. There was something else out there, and she wanted to be able to recognize it when it came.

The woman glanced to her handheld computer and frowned. She still had papers to mark from her Linguistics Workshop. The cat made to curl up on the teacher's lap, but Amanda set the animal back on the floor. "I suppose I can mark them while I sit through the meeting… it's not like I'd be doing much good anyway." She wondered if the Admiral had even met a Vulcan.

The woman paused, withdrawing her judgement with a guilty heart. She hadn't met a Vulcan personally either, so who as she to chastise? She was the one in a Vulcan program and had only chatted to a few via video call. They were a rarity on Earth. Everything here was too loud and barbaric compared to their progressive nature.

The prospect of meeting a Vulcan in the flesh made the Admiral's task suddenly endurable.

Miss Grayson collected her things into a tote and did a once over in her office mirror. She thought herself presentable. Her earth tones brought out the blue in her eyes and the rosy hues of her face. Not that such things would account for much with Vulcans. As long as she looked sharp she would earn herself no disrespect in their company.

The meeting place was only two blocks away at the Embassy. Amanda walked out of convenience and admired the building as she arrived. It was a small branch since Seattle only had an alien population in the hundreds. Still, it was architecturally marveling and esthetically pleasing.

Upon entering, Miss Grayson felt out of place within the marble walls. Everyone present wore some form of uniform. She clutched her bag closer to her as if she could leech some of its confidence. Her heels clicked against the stone beneath her, making her more conspicuous then she would like to be. Despite the morale support from her accessory, she felt self conscious as she stepped up to the reception desk and explained why she was there. The receptionist was of the pretty sort and directed the woman down the hall with a quick roll of her wrist.

It was easy to see where to go from there, since Amanda couldn't miss the huge gilded door that took up half the wall as soon as she turned down the corridor. It was so overwhelmingly regal that Miss Grayson had to fight the urge to bail and fabricate an excuse for her absence. This was no place for an unpractised linguist.

The security guards at the entrance raised their eyebrows at the woman hesitating near their doorway. After a moment one of them decided that a very blunt, "Who are you?" was in order.

Miss Grayson eyed him nervously before giving a small smile. "Amanda Grayson. I'm standing in for Mr. Kent Broadburn? He was supposed to be attending this diplomatic meeting." She hoped she sounded important enough to be emitted; standing around in the hallway until someone of higher authority arrived seemed very nerve wracking.

Luckily the guard nodded at her information. "You're half an hour early, only the Vulcans are present. You're welcome to enter."

The way he spoke made Amanda imagine an '…if you dare' being attached to it.

Strangely she felt that milling with Vulcans beat lingering in a cold corridor. Perhaps she could learn something about them before they became engrossed in political matters? It would be her only chance to interact, to use the skills she was proud of.

She asked to enter.

The guards opened the large double doors, revealing a lavish council room complete with a long table and twelve chairs. At the end of the room three Vulcans stood chatting amongst one another.

Amanda stepped in cautiously and attempted to locate the Ambassador. Unfortunately the old human stand-by of 'who ever stood proudest was leader' didn't apply to Vulcans. They all stood rigid, their angular faces a mask of seriousness that reminded Amanda of statues in ancient European cathedrals. Even without their peculiar ears and eyebrows this race would stand no chance blending in with the majority of humans.

In her stare she caught the word 'kevet-dutar' spoken as a question from one of the younger Vulcans to the oldest. This told Amanda that the older of them was the Ambassador, whose name was Sarak according to the Admiral. Excitement made her take a few tentative steps forward.

"Ah… Kevet-dutar… rai. Mesukh-tor-an."

As soon as Amanda said it, she deeply regretted it. Shame washed over her for attempting to use their native language, especially since she was sure she butchered what she meant to say. "Ambassador No, Miss Translator" was not going to earn her any brownie points with this crowd; it would only demonstrate her ineptitude.

The two younger Vulcans raised their eyebrows, while the older stood still and seemed to appraise the woman. It took a lot of will on Amanda's behalf not to hide her face.

"Your use of our language is…" He paused just long enough that Amanda wished she could sink into the floor. "...unneeded. We are more fluent in Standard then you are in Ah'rak lakh."

Amanda was so embarrassed that her mind became vacant. The Ambassador's aides eyed each other as the silence between Amanda and Sarek continued without a foreseeable end. In the spirit of diplomacy, Sarek ended her miniature stroke.

"You have said that you are not the Ambassador, yet I couldn't decipher your explanation as to why you were not the Ambassador. Please re-state in Standard."

It was like talking to a machine. The realization pulled Amanda out of her shock and trauma like a splash of cold water to the face. She decided to take the time to carefully set her book bag down and think her words through before re-addressing the Vulcan diplomat. This was her forte! She spent two semesters on Vulcan etiquette. With just a little more care she could turn this nightmare around.

"I am the chosen Vulcan cultural expert for this meeting. I'm here to make sure that our people don't unintentionally insult you, or you them." She said lightly.

"Is that not the Ambassador's job?"

His brown eyes gave of a hint of confusion. Amanda couldn't help but smile warmly. Humans were a very confusing race. To have to associate with them on a daily basis must be very tiring for him. She hoped that she wouldn't add to it.

She began to explain as simply as possible in an effort to erase her earlier error. "Yes, but the weight on an Ambassador's shoulders is a large one, I'm here to help."

At this the Vulcan nodded. "I see. Your people tend to do things collectively. I'm not sure if it is an efficient method."

Amanda tried not to laugh. This was why she fell in love with this race; they provided such a unique view on things. Amanda never stopped to think about efficiency of her being there. Before she could properly organize her thoughts, she blurted, "As a humanoid race you do things collectively too, though I do see your point. Vulcans don't need two people to do one job. Humans do. It is inefficient when viewed from the sidelines, yet from within it can be done no other way." She walked over to the end of the table where the Vulcans stood and pulled out a chair. With another kind smile she gestured to the seat in hope that Ambassador Sarek would sit so that they could converse more comfortably.

Ambassador Sarek tilted his head and adopted a hard look that made Amanda wonder what she did wrong. Instinctively she pulled her hand away from the chair and took a step back to try and assess the situation before he told her, but It was too late.

"Don't the males of your species offer seats to the females? Or is this information incorrect?"

"Oh! No, not entirely. A bit antiquated… ah… It's just a polite thing to do… and since all of you have been standing since I arrived I assumed that you did not know it was all right to sit." Amanda wanted to stab herself in the face for that last bit. She was going to be digging herself into a hole if she didn't shut up and think about what she was doing. She was acting far too forward for someone of her station and needed to back off.

With some hesitation, she retreated to her own chair which was closer to the other end of the table. Once there, Amanda pulled out her handheld as a distraction, but her mind was overclocking. She was failing in her purpose entirely, what if Sarek found her pointless? Hell... he did find her pointless in a Vulcan way. Didn't he just say that? She was an example of how inefficient humans were. It was all she could bear being alone in a room with him and his attendants knowing this. Her attempt to not make eye contact was nullified when curiosity got the better of her and she glanced back to Sarek to see what he was doing.

He was staring at the chair she pulled out as if trying to burn a hole through it with his eyes. Amanda inwardly cursed herself. She nearly dropped her handheld when Ambassador Sarek actually sat down in it and asked, "Why is it that you sit so far away?"

Death was a blessing at this point.

Amanda swallowed despite the sudden dryness in her throat. "I'm sure that when the others arrive, more suitable personnel would like to sit close to you in order to ask you questions and the like. That is what this meeting is about right? Asking questions?"

His eyes darkened and his assistants sat down on either side of him. They looked as unsure as Miss Grayson did. Sarek knitted his hands together and locked his gaze onto Amanda as if he were attempting to see through her. "Your people want information on alien races that they have not yet encountered. Information that Vulcan scientists have accumulated over many years when humankind was still unable to break through your planet's atmosphere. What your people will use this information for is unknown. I do not think that giving this information is a good idea. I have told your people that eight times, in eight different meetings. I am confused… as to why Humans do not understand the word 'No' even when spoken in your own language."

So it was something Military. Why was the Admiral getting her involved in something like this when she was just a civilian? Politics never intrigued her and the whims of her government were an absolute mystery to someone whose only care was getting her student's papers back on time.

Amanda ran a hand through her auburn hair, a tic that often left her looking unruly. She had given up rectifying the impression she made on Sarek and replied with her own opinion. "The problem with humanity is that when we really want something we do anything in our power to obtain it." Amanda stared at the table as she spoke. Being human wasn't going to be an asset at any point during this meeting, but perhaps she could change Sarek's view a little. "It's a trait that shows the worse of us sometimes… but it can be a good thing too. The ability to overcome any obstacle, no matter the odds is something that our people cherish. It gives us hope - which is good. Here, it is being put to the negative end of the spectrum… and that is greed. I am sorry you've had to witness it eight times. Perhaps the ninth time will be the charm?"

Sarek tilted his head and his lip twitched. Was that a repressed smile? Amanda beamed like a five year old at her conquest.

"As an Ambassador to Earth, I have evaluated the emotion Greed with interest. It is one of your seven deadly sins. Something that Vulcans lack entirely. However, Hope is a new concept that I was not aware had any relevance to this meeting. Your speech was fascinating and I dare say refreshing. What is your name?"

Did he just compliment her? Perhaps she wasn't a complete failure after all! "Amanda Grayson, and you are Ambassador Sarek... if I was informed correctly?"

"You are correct." And almost as though cued, the doors opened to reveal several people in various uniforms. The majority were military, but the fancy garb of the Ambassador to Vulcan was most prominent. The man was slender and had the air of royalty that Amanda thought was rather misplaced. He bowed and made his way to the Vulcan side of the table to sit on the right of one of Sarek's assistants. "Good day Ambassador Sarek. I hope you are well?"

"Quite." Sarek replied plainly as the rest of the humans sat themselves down. The Admiral took the seat opposite Sarek, which Amanda thought a bit foreboding; there were eight humans between him and the Ambassador and only two Vulcans.

Amanda shifted awkwardly in her seat and picked up the handheld she dropped earlier. Now that everyone was here she could sit back and mark her student's papers in peace while they discussed political matters she had no bearing in. It was hard for her to concentrate however; the Vulcans were so interesting in their mannerisms that she found herself watching them. They seemed to assess every newcomer in turn and pay close attention to those they found most interesting. By Amanda's count the Admiral and the Ambassador had the most glances.

"So. To business," said the Admiral with relish before some of his subordinates unpacked important looking papers and handed them to the Vulcans. Boorish conversation ensued in which Amanda tuned out in favor of finishing her own business. She did look up every few minutes to gauge the facial expression of Ambassador Sarek, only to find it stoic as usual.

What felt like an hour later, Sarek raised his voice higher then the lull Amanda was accustomed to and it made her snap out of her marking reverie.

"We will consider the matter Admiral, in three days. The answer we give then will be final. I will no longer attend any conferences that include this as a topic of discussion." He turned to his associates who nodded in agreement. The statement seemed to shock the Admiral into choked silence.

Amanda looked from the Ambassador to the Admiral, before looking back to the Ambassador. Surprisingly, Sarak turned towards her and gave Amanda a strange expression that made the woman freeze. Sarek stared at her for a solid 30 seconds before glancing back to the Admiral.

"I also request for quarters here in Seattle. The travel between here and San Francisco is tiring and will deprive me of my need to meditate in peace."

The human Ambassador stood and gave a neat bow to Sarek. "We shall work on it at once Mr. Sarek. Meanwhile would you like a tour of the facilities available to you during your stay?"

Without hesitation, Sarek replied, "I shall need none."

The Vulcan cut off any further conversation at this point and the Admiral quietly dismissed the meeting. Everyone stood to vacate, including Amanda who was glad to be able to stretch her legs. She pulled at her numb limbs before packing up her handheld. As she did, she reflected that for her first encounter with an actual Vulcan, it didn't seem too painful. It was embarrassing as all hell, but she actually enjoyed the experience and wondered if she could put herself in more situations that involved Vulcans. Perhaps there was a way to include one of Sarak's aids in her workshop? No, it was likely she would never meet any these Vulcans again. There were more important matters to occupy their time.

Almost as if detecting her thoughts, Ambassador Sarek strode over to her. All those remaining in the room stopped what they were doing to watch. Amanda tensed as if branded and wondered what this could be about. Did he think her earlier remarks too brash? Was her inattentiveness during the meeting bothersome?

When he didn't start the conversation she cautiously muttered, "Ambassador Sarek" and followed with a curt nod as if to show she acknowledged that he was standing only two feet from her. He returned the gesture before suddenly asking, "Miss Grayson, would you accompany me for dinner tonight?"

Amanda noticed the Admiral's eyes widen and some of the others begin to stare in disbelief. If there were a mirror present, she would have noticed that she was doing the same. The whole event seemed bizarre from Amanda's point of view. Did she get sucked into a rift through time and space where Vulcans actually enjoyed the company of beings that ran off swirling hormones and misguided ambition?

"Me? I am not involved with this matter any more, and I'm sure that the Human Ambassador would love to have the pleasure..." she tried not to stutter and failed. Her eyes desperately searched his face for some logical reasoning for the invitation – since all Vulcans had one – but she was at a loss.

"It is because you are not involved in this matter that I wish for you to accompany me; but if you would rather not..."

Right. How that explained her present situation she couldn't fathom; but it seemed an ample enough explanation for him, so why not? What could she do but accept? It was the chance she was waiting for. Perhaps she could learn something about his home world that a textbook couldn't offer.

"I have a workshop to teach… it lasts till seven, so if you truly want me to join you for dinner, it will have to be a late dinner." Her mind was juggling her schedule as she spoke.

He nodded, understanding her responsibility. "I see. It will be a late dinner then. I will see that you know the time and place once it is arranged. Excuse me." With that, he waited for his Vulcan assistants to come to his side. They departed down the hallway together to meet with a guide while Amanda stared after them as if waking from a dream.

Amanda shook her head and ran her hand through her hair yet again. What was going on? She didn't even have time to pack before the Admiral strode over much like Sarek did; a question was burning him so badly that he didn't even need to ask it. He did anyway.

"Why did the Ambassador invite you to dinner? Do you know?"

The woman looked away and started to fidget with her bag. "He just said why didn't he? I'm not involved. Maybe it's to keep his mind off the topic? It could be something I said earlier…"

"But you said nothing."

"Earlier earlier… before you arrived." The Admiral opened his mouth but Amanda held up her hand for quiet; she was a civilian so military etiquette be damned. "Before you ask… it was a conversation regarding nothing of importance. The Ambassador said that he was tired of saying the same thing over and over again." Amanda looked into the Admiral's eyes with a stare that had all her strength of will behind it. "And I told him it was human of us to not accept no as an answer."

The Admiral smiled, though Amanda almost mistook it for another grimace. "And yet… he changed his usual answer - because of you."

Amanda opened her mouth to protest. He must not have properly interpreted what she meant, because the Admiral rested his hand on her shoulder and said, "Keep up the good work."