Logically, it was decided to send Spock to a nursing home. With his own kind: humans. Spock had not remarried as he had complete control over his Pon Farr. Spock was very emotional when he returned to what remained of his family. Erin could not take care of Spock. As much as she loved him, taking care of a hybrid wasn't in her resume. Spock did not blame Erin with her choice. Erin still appeared to be young in contrast to Spock's elderly appearance. The air-car was being driven by T'Fern. Spock was under intense meditation throughout the week long trip to the planet Aura via the USS Constellation. The planet Aura due to the relaxing atmosphere, the lax attitude most individuals would have upon landing on it, and the night sky that had the aura lights. There was a well known and highly decorated nursing home for all types of people in and out of Star Fleet set on a hill.

"Father in law," T'fern said. "Are you comfortable?"

"Affirmative." Spock said.

What T'Fern was really asking was: are you okay with this? There was a long silence between the two Vulcans. One hundred years worth of history transpired between them. T'Fern was concerned for Spock. To be taken from what remained of his family and put into a complete strange environment. T'Fern likely claimed she could take care of a hybrid in the throes of Bendii's. And the look of doubt in Erin's face would have been shattering. The last conversation Spock saw between the two, there was a rift growing between them. And it was stemming from his illness. Spock regretted getting in between the two and reminding his own daughter that she one day would come to face Bendii's. Spock knew the two well. And the rift could split the wives apart.

It was like Spock's mind was somewhere else.

Empty on the inside. Hollow as a tree. And experiencing death alone was horrifying. It was deeply concerning.

"Ambassador." T'Fern raised her voice.

"I am awake." Spock said.

"What should I tell your grandchild?" T'Fern said.

"The truth." Spock said.

"Ambassador. . ." T'Fern said.

"It is only logical," Spock said. "He is not ten years old."

"What I am asking is how to logically break it to him that his grandfather is dying." Spock turned his head toward T'Fern. "It is a very delicate matter to bring up through live-call." Her fingers were on the console. "I have never broke the news that a elder of ours is in the process of dying."

"You mean to say you never informed your son of Sarek's passing?" Spock asked.

"Affirmative," T'Fern said. "We believed he could live another year . . . It was selfish of us."

Spock turned his head away toward the window.

"As was I." Spock said. "I believed he would not die on my attempts of unifying Romulus and Vulcans. Long enough to say farewell. . ." He felt another tear makes it way down his cheek. "Which I never did."

The air-car came to a stop right into a parking space.

"Do you have your belongings?" T'Fern asked.

Spock opened the car door.

"In the backseat." Spock said.

All he had was a luggage full of clothes and his meditation mat and incense. No photos. He decided long ago that if he were to bring a photograph of the USS Endeavor wherever he went that one day he could forget why he brought it with them due to unforeseen consequences. It was illogical to bring one. He rarely looked at the photograph. Only did he look at it for nostalgia. And what little comfort it could bring to him. He hadn't selected who would take his katra to Ancient Hall of Thoughts. A katra keeper most likely. It felt like an eternity to him after T'Pring died. The last of the last people he knew in this life. It felt like no one was on the same page he was.

Spock closed the door then came to the backseat door. Spock wrapped his fingers around the latch then opened it and took out his luggage. Spock could hear the sound of T'Ferns driver side door closing with a hard slam. Spock was no longer in Vulcan attire but apparently in human attire. It felt just as comfortable in Vulcan attire except it made him more relaxed. It did not have the weight of a role on it. A valued one at that. It felt casual. Himself. Not because it had a rounded smiley face on the center contrasting against the dark gray background. If asked if he chose it because it was 'loud', Spock would vehemently deny that he chose it because of the emoticon.

"Have you decided when you prefer your Katra to be taken?" T'Fern inquired.

"When I am too weak to walk on my two feet." Spock said, closing the passenger side door.

"That is logical." T'Fern remarked. It sounded like she approved of the method.

Spock had wore black shorts that reached to his knee. Dementia didn't really follow the path of old age but eventually, for Spock, it would be replaced by the complete lack of self control over his emotions entirely. Of course, Spock had his regrets. Many regrets. Too many to count. Feelings could kill Vulcans if they were displayed on full throttle. Which is why many Vulcans chose to control them expressing them in their most basic level: through the mind. And their actions. It was logical. Picturing himself unable to speak reasonably was terrifying. If Spock worsened, he could be taken to a private sector of the nursing home. Where he will further degrade, and eventually, pass in his sleep.

Spock and T'Fern walked side by side toward the doors. Spock looked up toward the sign that read "Sweet Hill nursing home" with the Star Fleet insignia beside it. It was a logical name for a nursing home on the planet Aura. It had rave reviews from sources all over the quadrant. It is the main reason why Erin opted to take Spock there. The nursing home appeared to be rather hospital. Warming. And welcoming by the outside. He could see there were some transparent windows showing a pair of relaxed old people napping together alongside in two chairs and some reading padds. There were patches of Roses in front of the sprawling building. It appeared to be three to four stories tall. It looked rather pretty. It was comforting to know he could die in a rather nice place.

"Mister Spock." T'Fern said.

"Yes?" Spock said, turning his head toward the woman.

"We are to go." T'Fern said.

"My apologies. . ." Spock said. "It appears to be rather splendid by the outside."

The Vulcan's entered the building.

Unlike how Spock initially pictured it, it looked rather comfy and cozy. There were old people everywhere with diversity. Some were watching TV that was on high volume. Spock recognized these people as Star Fleet highly regarded individuals and some of them were their enemies. Star Fleet was obliged to help those it had been enemies with. Khan Noonien Singh, a former augment leader, was petting a cat talking with a woman with dark gray hair who seemed to be happy with him. Spock recognized her as Marla McGivers. Spock had met her once on Starbase 1 when awaiting his new assignment. If Khan was an augment then why was he old? It was illogical. There were a few very old Klingons here and there reading Klingon Novels. Some of the people here were bound by chair. There was one man, strikingly familiar, sitting in a chair that faced the patio with a unusually sad look in his eyes. His hands were together on his lap. It was like he was lost. Much like Spock was on the same level. Spock had seen this face somewhere before in his career in Star Fleet.

"Fascinating." Spock said.

"Indeed." T'Fern said. "No wonder the reviews are five stars."

"It looks quite . . ." Spock couldn't pin the word.

"Friendly." T'Fern finished.

"That it does." Spock said, in a low voice.

Spock looked over toward T'Fern who appeared to be comforted. Comforted that her mate had made the right choice. But her mate was a hybrid much like Spock. And that issue would one day come between them. It would be quite the issue. Spock was thankful that he would not be there to witness their argument. Very heated and not being able to speak with the other directly for exactly three days, three hours, and forty-three minutes. That is if the rift has not split them apart. He hoped that it would not be the case between them. He wished for them to live a long and prosperous life together. Full to the brim with memories. Getting more lines on their faces. Watching their grandchildren pursue their careers and lives making new stories of their own.

The pair came over to the desk.

"Hello," The Andorian with the name tag Jessie Harden greeted them. "How may I help you?"

"I am here to check in S'chn T'gai Spock." T'Fern said.

Harden looked over in the direction of Spock and her eyes barely snapped in recognition when a smile spread on her face. Her bluish green face shined like a lightbulb with that kind smile on her face. Spock found it unusual. He never seen an Andorian smile exactly that way before. "T'Fern, here is the pad." Harden took out a padd from the desk then slid it forwards on the counter with a pen installed into the side. T'Fern bend forward filling out the padd using the pen hooked into the padd by artificial gravity. Spock had not seen these kind of padds before in this era but he had seen a model like these on the USS Endeavor. In that time span he came across Carol Marcus and her son. David and Carol worked on the project,experimented with it, and watched it destroy itself falling into the sun via a recording from The Reliant. Carol died fifty years ago. Last Spock heard, David married a Romulan/Vulcan hybrid known as Saavik and had two children who later joined Star Fleet. David was growing old alongside Saavik somewhere out there in space. He was likely a grandparent by now.

"It is a honor to have you here, Mister Spock." Harden said.

"Thank you, Miss Harden." Spock thanked her. He half wondered if she were half human. Andorians didn't have simple names like that.

"I have wondered about the stories of you patrolling the netrual zone are true," Harden said. "I grew up being told about the infestation that claimed the lives of a entire crew."

"Not the entire crew." Spock said.

"So there was survivors?" Harden asked, her eyes widened.

"Unfortunately they were not able to leave it alone and let it die in the corner of the ship," Spock said. "It thrives over attention. When we arrived they were stuck in the transporter bluffer being stuck in diagnostics. We beamed them out of the transporter onto my ship." He briefly closed his eyes recalling those fatal twenty-four-hours. "They failed to mention what had happened on that ship before it claimed ten of my security officers. My security officer Javier Esposito interrogated them individually. They refused to cooperate and asked that we let machines do the extinction."

"I never heard that before." Harden said.

"It turned out these were sapient living spiders being smuggled by Romulans to a asset that could have been a passenger vessel," Spock continued. "And we programmed the starship to return back to where it came. Including landing on the planet, recalibrating itself for breaking through the atmosphere, and adding a code that made the door close behind it. We returned the Romulans to their kin."

"What about the starship?" Harden asked.

"It is somewhere . . . on that planet. . . gathering dust, rocks, and rust." Spock said.

"But what if life develops? Humaniod, living beings wanting to get off the planet?" Harden asked.

"We considered that," Spock said. "And a basic math program was made to determine if the starship itself should activate for them."

"Mr Spock has a unique sense of humor when it comes to math." T'Fern said, jotting down on the pad.

"The equation was logical." Spock said.

"You picked pie." T'Fern said.

"Because it is unsolvable." Spock said.

"No one can answer the meaning of life." T'Fern said. They had made the other arrangements and informed the nursing home of Spock's admission. It was like Spock was being enrolled into college. T'Fern lowered the pen putting back into the side of the padd then propped herself upwards. T'Fern faced the direction of the elderly Vulcan. "Live long and prosper."

"Live long and prosper, T'Fern." Spock reciprocated.

T'Fern lowered her hand to her side with her fingers returning to their natural position then turned around exiting the building and leaving Spock behind for the final time.