For a human, these symptoms would probably constitute a stitch, or in the worst cases, maybe appendicitis. However, as Sarek supressed a pained grimace that was threatening his controls, he knew what this ‘stitch’ meant. This pain in his side had nothing to do with a build-up of lactic acid. His heart was malfunctioning, as only a Vulcan’s could. Concern that wasn’t his seeped through his mind, reminding him of what he could lose if he gave way to his slowing organs. What would it do to Amanda and his child to have him ripped from their lives? He had to fight whatever was overwhelming his body. An alarm sounded in his head. When did Sarek of Vulcan ever refer to anything as ‘whatever’? As he lay on his hard mattress, with barely a pillow to put his head on, he utilised his eidetic memory, recalling countless happy, and yes, he would admit to having been happy, moments with his beloved. Amanda was his true ashaya and not his previous wife. Slow evenings spent in Amanda’s presence flitted through his receding mind. His closeness with she who was his wife was so special to him, even if his Vulcan stoicism didn’t allow for him to show it. She knew, and that consoled him. There couldn’t be long left, as his thoughts turned to their son. Spock was a unique child, that was certain. As the first Vulcan-Human hybrid ever, many requests had been made to study and observe his development. However, Amanda was adamant that their son would not be subjected to feeling like an experiment. Spock seemed to encompass all that Sarek found special in his Amanda, and all that she apparently found special in him. As his final moments were upon him, he sent Amanda every positive feeling he had ever felt, as most had been caused by her and their son. An armada of emotions flowed through their bond, pushing on the limits of Amanda’s psi-null mind. The katra moved on, its work done.