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A Family Emergency

Chapter 1

The communications unit blared insistently, disturbing Ambassador Sarek and his wife. Rarely did their home comm unit sound at such a late hour. Only a family emergency could be the reason for such an unwelcome and untimely call.

Expecting the worst, Sarek removed his arms from around his wife and withdrew from their bedchamber in order to answer the call. Seating himself behind his desk and composing his features, the Ambassador activated the unit, answering the alarming call. "Sarek here," he spoke, his voice strong and deep.

"Ambassador Sarek?" The voice quavered roughly, but the British accent came through. The image of an elderly human woman searched his eyes.

"Yes, it is I," he answered as politely as he could under the circumstances. "How may I be of service?"

"You are the parents of Commander Spock of the Enterprise?" Her faded blues eyes, worried and time-worn, darted from his face to the right and back to him.

Sarek twisted slightly in his seat to lock eyes with Amanda then he turned back to face the elderly stranger. "We are."

Leaning against the back of her chair with obvious relief, the woman closed her eyes and sighed. "Thank goodness," she whispered to the air.

Amanda spoke at once. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

Shaking her head, the woman answered quickly. "Everything, Mrs. Sarek, just everything, and I'm too old to handle this."

A frown crossed Sarek's face as he saw his wife biting her bottom lip. The situation must be very serious indeed. "Perhaps you should explain," Sarek told her bluntly.

Nodding, the woman quickly identified herself. "Yes, I'm sorry. My name is Pamela Jorgensen, Mrs. David E. Jorgensen. I'm Leila's grandmother."

Sarek shook his head. "I am sorry, Madam, but -"

"Leila Kalomi," Mrs. Jorgensen interrupted as if this explained everything.

The frown deepened across Sarek's brow. "Madam, I am afraid that -"

This time it was his wife who interrupted him. "The Leila Kalomi who studied at Starfleet Academy some eighteen years ago? A lovely girl with long blonde hair and great big blue eyes?"

With raised eyebrows, Sarek turned again to face his wife. He could count on one hand the number of times he had been confused and speechless. Each time it had been at Amanda's doing.

A sad smile flitted across the old woman's face, a face that once must have looked a great deal like her granddaughter's. "That's my girl," she spoke eagerly. "She's the reason I've contacted you. I'm the only one left now, and I'm just too old to handle this." She wrung her hands. "I just don't know what to do."

By unspoken mutual agreement, Sarek gave up his seat to Amanda. Now it was he who stood behind the chair. Amanda shook her head at the older woman. "Mrs. Jorgensen, I'm afraid I don't understand. If Leila is in trouble, I'll be happy to do what I can for her. I met her once when I visited Spock at the Academy. She's a lovely girl."

"I appreciate that, Mrs. Sarek, but Leila -" the older woman's voice broke "- she passed away last night, and that's why I'm contacting you and Mr. Sarek."

Sarek took a breath to speak, but Mrs. Jorgensen rushed on. "I'm not really Leila's grandmother, you see. I'm her great-grandmother and well past ninety. I'm all alone. The whole family is gone now, you see, and I just can't handle this by myself. I thought you and your husband, being younger, would be able to handle things." She shook her head. "I don't know what the girl was thinking not telling anyone, but now I can't get in touch with the boy, and I just can't handle this, so that's why I contacted you."

Not to be interrupted again, Sarek spoke. His voice was formal and insistent. "Mrs. Jorgensen, I still do not know of what you are speaking. Perhaps you should start from the beginning and explain more thoroughly."

Amanda raised a slim hand and placed it gently but firmly on her husband's arm. "What was the cause of death?" Her voice was soft and slightly tremulous.

"Oh, my," the older woman muttered softly to herself. "She must not have told him either. I just don't understand it." Inhaling deeply, Mrs. Jorgensen fixed her watery, blue-gray eyes on Amanda's brighter ones. "My Leila died in childbirth tonight."

Amanda swallowed hard, and her voice was strangely subdued as she said. "Mrs. Jorgensen, I am so sorry, so very, very sorry." Then, her voice hardened, and Amanda asked decisively, "Where are you?" Her own face mirrored the agony that showed on Mrs. Jorgensen's, and her eyes were brimming with tears.

"I'm still at the hospital," she told Amanda. "The doctors won't let me take the baby home, not that I could take care of her, but I just don't know what to do."

Sarek was still uncertain as to what exactly was transpiring. He knew neither this woman nor her great-granddaughter, and he did not have the faintest clue as to why she was contacting them. But he trusted Amanda. "Are you on Earth?" he asked gently.

Wringing her hands, the old woman looked up. "Lord, will you listen to me?" she muttered again to herself. "I'm so confused I can't even remember where I am." Then, nodding at Sarek's image, she answered him directly. "Yes, I'm at Mercy General Hospital in Davenport, England."

Having carefully pushed back the tears, Amanda stated firmly, "Don't you worry another minute, Mrs. Jorgensen. Sarek and I will be there -" She stopped short and turned to her husband.

"In precisely, three days, seventeen hours, forty-two minutes Federation Standard Time at the latest, depending, of course, on the availability of transportation."

Mrs. Jorgensen blinked, opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again without saying a word.

Amanda spoke up to fill the silent gap. "We'll be there as soon as we can, and we'll take care of the bills as well. You just take care of yourself."

"Thank you so much," Mrs. Jorgensen replied. Then they both terminated the call.

Amanda bounced up from the chair, sprinting towards their bedroom. Sarek, following at a more sedate pace, asked, "Amanda, I still am uncertain about all of this." Then, as he noted Amanda quickly donning some casual clothing and sandals, he asked. "You are going somewhere?"

"I'm going to run into town and pick up a few things we'll need," she replied as she headed for the door. "If you pull a few strings and arrange for our immediate passage to Earth, I'll pack as soon as I get back."

Sarek walked with Amanda to the door. "As you wish, my wife," he answered solemnly. "And what reason should I give for such a sudden departure?"

The look Amanda gave him was one of incredulity. Then, slowly a look of understanding spread across her face, and a mischievous grin followed. "Oh, I'm sure you can think of something, Grandpa," she answered lightly before placing a tiny kiss on the end of his nose and heading into the night.

"Grandpa?" he echoed after her. Then as the realization hit the Ambassador, his eyebrows completely disappeared under his hair. "Grandpa!"

Less than seventy-two hours later, Sarek of Vulcan and his wife, Amanda, were on Earth at Mercy General Hospital in Davenport, England. While Sarek took care of the bills and paperwork, Amanda went to the nursery.

"I can't thank you enough," Mrs. Joregensen whispered. This whole event had been a nightmare, during which the old woman had held up remarkably. Now that it was nearly over, she was near her breaking point. She seemed to have aged twenty years since Amanda last saw her on the comm screen.

Amanda captured the woman's hands between her own. "There's no need to thank us," she gently replied. "We're all family through that beautiful little girl."

Redirecting the conversation back to the tiny pink bundle in the nursery window worked. Mrs. Jorgensen's thoughts were now on a happier topic, and she turned with a smile to look through the window. "She is beautiful, isn't she?" Mrs. Jorgensen agreed. "So much like her mother."

Amanda sighed. "Lelia was a lovely young woman," she replied. "I'm sorry we missed the memorial service."

Never once taking her eyes from the small, pink baby, Mrs. Jorgensen answered, "Leila never wanted a big service, just a simple cremation with no crying." She shook her head and turned to face Amanda. A sad smile quivered across her lips. "That girl was a lot like me. That's precisely what I'm planning for myself soon."

A frown creased Amanda's brow. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked.

With a self-effacing laugh and the same sad smile, Mrs. Jorgensen told Amanda about her own recent medical diagnosis. "It seems I have hemotoxia. My doctor gives me a little over a month." She shook her head twice, then looked Amanda square in the eye. "That's why I was so desperate to locate you and Mr. Sarek."

Amanda inhaled sharply. Hemotoxia was a rare blood disease in which once healthy red blood cells suddenly sickened and died. The body reacted as it would to a vast injection of viper venom. So far the cause was unknown. Some of the medical profession thought it to be an acquired disease; others felt it to be of a genetic origin. Whatever the cause, the only known fact was that it meant a sudden and painful death.

She squeezed Mrs. Jorgensen's hands. "I am so sorry," she cried earnestly. "Is there anything we can do?"

Mrs. Jorgensen returned the pressure. "You already have, Amanda. You and your husband have agreed to look after this baby." Now it was her turn to comfort Amanda. "There, there, child," she hushed. "I've lived a long and useful life. Why, I've lived to see my own great-great granddaughter born. Now, there's not many who can boast of that! I've put my faith in my Lord."

Amanda nodded. There was nothing she could say.

"Are you well, my wife?" queried Sarek as he and the attending physician approached.

Quickly, she wiped away the tears and gave Sarek a brave smile. "Of course, my husband," she told him.

Sarek was skeptical. She had been crying. But he had learned many years ago, that Amanda's tears did not always denote sadness. "Then, we are ready to return home," he answered.

"Almost," the young doctor interjected. "There is still the matter of paperwork to attend to."

"I was under the assumption that all of the paperwork was complete and being processed," Sarek replied.

"Well, it is, sir," agreed the physician, "except for the one small matter of a name for the child. We can't file the birth record until the child has been named. Once there is a name on record, we can process the paperwork and give you a copy to take with you. After all, this little girl will be able to declare dual citizenship. She was born on Earth, but her father is a citizen of Vulcan, right?"

"Yes, that is correct," conceded Sarek.

"Would you mind if we called her after you?" Amanda asked Mrs. Jorgensen.

"Oh no, dear, please don't do that!" exclaimed the old woman. "I always disliked my name. Pam. It sounds so flat and uninspiring. Besides it's unlucky to name a child after someone who's dying."

Sarek did not understand such illogical superstition, nor did he care to try, but he could solve the problem. "The child shall be called 'Amanda.' Please file the necessary papers," he stated resolutely.