K'hat'n'dlawa

Protestation

Sarek stepped out of the private shuttle, flanked by his guards- three highly trained Vulcans armed with phasers. Normally they would have carried lirpas, the traditional double-bladed Vulcan weapon dating back thousands of years- but phasers were less likely to draw attention. And attention was the last thing he wanted at the moment.

As they approached the exit of the shuttle station, Sarek experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could hear a crowd of reporters outside- talking amongst themselves as they waited for him to appear. He'd tried to reserve his transportation as inconspicuously as possible, but leaks were bound to happen. Someone must have let slip to the media that he was arriving that day...

Dreading what was to come, he stepped out into the chilly California sunlight. To a human, it would have been a warm day- it was approaching the summer solstice in this hemisphere- but he had grown accustomed to the heat of Vulcan once more. He adjusted his body temperature a small amount to compensate for the coolness of the air as he looked around him.

There were at least fifty representatives of the news media there, and upon his appearance, they surged forward. As they took pictures and recorded the scene with small silver cameras - shouting questions at him- his guards closed in, forming a triangle around him. Their hands rested on their phasers as they moved forward, descending the cement steps and taking the path toward the waiting hover-car.

"Ambassador- why the armed escort?" A woman shouted as they passed. "Have you received death threats?"

"Is it true that you and the woman you were publicly accused of beating are now married?"

"Any thoughts on the recent death of the Vulcan Science Academy student? Anything you want to say to the killers still on the loose?" Someone else asked.

Sarek nearly paused at that one. Other questions he could readily ignore- but that was one issue that had been plaguing him more than he would like to admit. The needless death of one of his own people- the death of one of the Vulcans who were, in a sense, under his charge as long as they were on Earth...all because of a group of men who hated Vulcans for no reason. It was pointless. It was disgusting. Yes, he did have words to say to those responsible for the death- but they were not logical, nor were they words he would want the media to publish him as saying. They were somewhat...undiplomatic.

When he'd first heard about the death- when it was described as a mugging- he had thought it was highly regrettable- but it was well-known that there were 'gangs' in San Francisco who robbed people at night, and deaths occasionally resulted from their violence. He had informed the student's family himself, over a transmission...he'd told Amanda about it that evening, and she'd claimed that it was rude to tell a family such bad news over a comm link.

"You should have told them face-to-face," she'd scolded. He had only risen his eyebrows and hadn't even responded. His presence would not have made the news easier to accept. Perhaps it was another human quirk to believe it would.

But when Mayden told him it had not been a simple robbery- that it had been a hate crime...that changed everything. A mugging, while still not a justification of murder, at least made some semblance of sense- the motive had been credits and taking anything of value for their own personal gain. But to murder another being for no reason other than that they existed...even now, as he slid into the waiting hover-car, it made the bile rise in his throat. There had been no motive except their own hatred of what they did not understand.

Vulcans were against violence of any form- especially murder. But the thought of what had happened to that young student made him want to reconsider if he ever met the culprits...

Deciding that these musings were not conducive to the centering of his being, he focused instead on more pleasant thoughts as the hover-car headed toward his rented home. Amanda...it was now almost evening on Vulcan. She would be working on her research, or perhaps finishing up the last of her coursework.