ksbigbang Post - Alternative Serendipity - NC-17 - Part 1/5
Title: Alternative Serendipity
Author: luvsbitca
Artists: amechiro and numberthescars
Series: AOS (I really do see a difference between AOS-Kirk and TOS-Kirk)
Pairing: girl!Kirk/Spock
Additional Pairings: Really background Sarek/Amanda
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it all belongs to other people, but these insane little ramblings are my way of playing in the sandpit.
Warnings: Genderbending (always a girl Kirk), mentions of unhappy childhoods (child abuse allusions - nothing detailed)
Summary: While working at the Starfleet Academy science labs Spock is exposed to an unknown gas. Soon after he begins to have dreams where he is growing up on a farm somewhere in America. The dreams lead him to a woman named Jane Kirk and he discovers those dreams are her memories. {Involves: academy era, genderchange, accidental bonding}
Author’s Notes: 90% of this is in Spock POV, however occasionally I let Jane (Kirk) have a chance and when that occurs this /J\/a\/n\/e\ will appear to signal the change.
I know Kirk's brother went by Sam in AOS but I have this image of him demanding to be called George after his father dies so I'm going with it.
I wrote most of this in about twenty-four hours because I had the wrong date for the artist claims but I am still pretty happy with it. Enjoy…
I was lucky enough to have two amazing artists create images for this story. amechiro and numberthescars who I would love to heap praise upon because they made this such a lovely Big Bang experience. Thank you both so very much, go and check out what they created. Really, the mix and art and everything is just stunning and you should check it all out.
Thank you to thesewarmstars who spent valuable time editing this. I appreciate all of your hard work. The final read through was mine and I’m a fiddler so any mistakes are mine.
Thank you to spockchick for both created the perfect picture of T’Pring in AOS that matched the picture in my head almost perfectly. And for letting me link to it later in the story.
The ART!!!!
numberthescars art at LJ
amechiro mix/art at LJ
Seriously, go and check them out - they are amazing!!!
The Mix
Want more for your experience? amechiro made a mix. Click on her amazing image and you can check out the mix.
image and mix by amechiro
image by numberthescars
Alternative Serendipity
by Moonbeam
/ / / Accident \ \ \
S'chn T'gai Spock was working in a lab when the fire started. The warning bells began to scream, pulling him away from the delicate process of cross-breeding the two species of fish. Spock shut the lab down quickly, doing his best to ensure that the entire week’s work was not going to be lost due to a drill. He pulled the door shut behind him and started for the stairs. As soon as he opened the door he was able to smell the acrid smoke filling the stairwell. Spock could tell that it was a chemical fire coming from three floors above him but he paid it no attention until he heard the faint, coughing beg for help. Spock turned and started up the stairs instead of down.
Spock pushed the door open slowly, watching for any flames that would reach out of the oxygen-starved room beyond. Nothing came and Spock pushed the door open and walked into the hallway. He could smell the smoke much more strongly now and he slowed his respiration rate down as much as he could to avoid inhaling more than was absolutely necessary. Spock made his way through the hallway quickly by methodically checking the rooms as he went, trying to locate the voice he had heard earlier. At the centre of the building, where the main lab on each level was located, Spock found two things. He could see three people stuck in the main lab trying desperately to get out as the glass-walled room filled with smoke and he could see a woman with long hair trying to get into another lab. He heard banging from the other side of the door the woman was attempting to open. He could also hear the coughing and pleading voices from the main lab so he turned his back to the woman and attempted to open the door using the outside panel. Unsurprisingly, it did not open and he used his greater than human strength to open the panel cover next to the door and began the quick task of overriding the door’s locking mechanism. It was the work of fifty-four seconds to get the lock to disengage and then Spock had no other option but to open the door bodily. Two of the people inside the lab had collapsed from whatever gases were being spread around the room, but the one remaining was using what little strength he had to push on the door from the other side. The gases began to escape more quickly from the room before a slim golden hand slid into the gap under Spock’s arms and started pushing the door with them. The man in the lab collapsed just as they got the door open enough for the woman who was standing next to Spock to slide between his body and the wall to jam herself into the opening and push with both hands until there was a large enough gap for two people to squeeze through.
“I’ve got this,” the woman said. “Grab the people inside.”
Spock nodded and released his hold on the door slowly to ensure that the woman was indeed able to maintain the gap alone. He selected the man near the door first, pulling him away from the doorway completely before he ducked his head to return for the other two. When he was sure there was no one else in the lab they let the door fall closed.
“I can carry the weight of two humans down the stairs required,” Spock said to the woman he could now see clearly, startlingly blue eyes with a number of dark smudges on her skin from the work they had been doing.
“I will take the other one then,” she said and began hefting the smallest of the unconscious humans up and onto her shoulders.
Spock waited until she was suitably organised before he lifted both of the remaining bodies and they started towards the stairwell door. At that moment, it opened and a team of emergency personnel entered the hallway. Spock calculated that they had taken eight minutes and fifty-seven seconds to respond to the warnings. That delay was entirely too long and he would need to report the time to the person in charge of the team. Spock refused the offer to relieve him of his burden allowing the emergency personnel to instead check the area while he made his way carefully down the stairs. Once in the open air Spock noticed three things: his eyes were unnaturally sensitive to the sunlight, he was breathing more heavily than he should have been and the doctor who immediately approached them had a scowl on his face that was directed at the woman next to him.
“Dammit, Jane, what were you doing in there?” The doctor asked as Spock was relieved of his burden and they were both put on stretchers.
The woman stood in front of Spock suddenly. “Are you okay? You look pale?”
She reached for him and as their skin made contact Spock shoved his shields up as quickly as he could. He could not understand, however, why the world went black immediately after the contact.
/ / / McCoy \ \ \
Spock regained consciousness to find a man standing over him. The man muttered under his breath as Spock’s vision widened enough to take in the world around him.
“I’m Dr McCoy,” the man said when he noticed that Spock had was watching him. “What’s your name?”
“Spock.” Spock tried to sit up but the doctor pressed a hand to his shoulder and held him down.
“The gas you were exposed to was the result of an experiment on some rocks from Targin VII which apparently have some very unique reactions with tungsten. While it is dangerous to humans in a similar way to carbon monoxide, it is quite a different matter for Vulcans. You will need to remain in the medical bay overnight at least. You are not going anywhere just yet, Spock.”
“Explain.”
Dr McCoy glared at him, but spoke as he was looking at Spock’s readings. “You have different readings from any Vulcan I have ever treated, Spock. Good thing they had your scans from the Prometheus on file.”
“Doctor, I would like to know what reaction my physiology had with the gases that were produced.”
“Well that was a little more polite, I suppose,” the man said gruffly. “The gas produced had a reaction with your eyes and your central nervous system; specifically it affected your ability to access and control your touch telepathy. So, when Jane touched you you tried to shield yourself and instead your system, already on overload, shut down in preservation.”
“My eyes were sensitive when we exited the building.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re extremely lucky there was no brain damage.”
“I had reduced my respiration in response to the unknown gas.”
“Very smart, Mr Spock,” the doctor said before pressing a hypo to his neck. “If you hadn’t, you could have died. As it is I would like you to slip into a healing trance.”
“We do not slip into anything; it is a methodical process by which…what was in that hypospray?”
“Goodnight, Mr Spock,” the doctor said as the world started to drift again. Spock felt a prickle of annoyance but knew it could come to nothing when he found it almost impossible to move. He centred himself instead and focused on the damage to his body that he could repair.
/ / / Chapel \ \ \
“Strike me!” A slap across his face. “Harder. Harder!”
When Spock came out of his healing trance there was a blonde woman standing by his bed looking at his readings. She was flexing her hand as she did so.
“Mr Spock, I’m Dr Chapel,” she said with a smile. “Your readings have returned to normal. When you have eaten and had something to drink you can be released.”
Spock inclined his head.
Dr Chapel smiled at him. “I have ordered you some plomeek soup.”
“Thank you.”
/ / / Amanda \ \ \
Two hours later Spock let himself into his academy apartment. Though he was neither student nor professor, he had been given the accommodation upon his return from service aboard the Prometheus when he opted to remain at the Academy and conduct research until he was able to join Captain Pike, once again, on the Enterprise, due for completion in two years and six months.
The opportunity to participate in a five year mission in previously uncharted sections of space was more intellectually stimulating than the other missions available. The break of three years and two months was an opportunity to participate in a number of research projects within Spock’s main areas of study. He had agreed as well to provide advanced tutoring to a select number of the brightest students in astrophysics, quantum mechanics, astrography, xenolinguistics and warp engineering. Since he had returned to the academy he had found the work he had done to be…fulfilling.
Spock bathed and then turned on his personal terminal to ensure that no important messages awaited him. The only one of importance or urgency was from his mother, who had contacted him upon having heard of the accident. He would contact her after he had meditated.
Spock settled onto his meditation mat and sunk slowly into his mind, focusing on the moments just before the fire notification and proceeding through until the time when he passed out to analyse his actions and responses in an attempt to locate moments of weakness against the gas.
He could find no fault in his actions after he had meditated on the even. Spock had managed to complete all of his objectives before succumbing to the effects of the gas, which he had ignored in his focus on the mission, though on reflection he could pinpoint his susceptibility.
Spock rose from his meditation mat and drank a glass of water before he placed a call, through the Vulcan embassy, to his mother.
“Spock,” she said in greeting. “You look well.”
“I am most adequate.”
His mother smiled at him.
“Mother, I received your message when I returned from the medical centre. I apologise for not returning your call earlier, however, I had not had a chance to meditate properly since the completion of my healing trance.”
“Are you well, Spock?”
“The effects of the gas have been repaired and I am now back to complete health.”
“Oh, good.” She smiled at him. “I was worried about you, but your lovely doctor spoke to me and ensured me of your health.”
“My lovely doctor?”
“McCoy, he spoke to me when I called to find out how you were.”
“I fail to see how you could find the man lovely; he was ill-tempered and quite abrupt.”
His mother smiled at him. “Well, he was charming when he spoke to me, such a flirt.”
Spock frowned at his mother. “Why would he flirt with a married woman?”
“Oh, Spock,” his mother said with a smile. “For the fun of it, of course. I haven’t been flirted with since the last time I was on Earth. Vulcans don’t know how to flirt at all.”
Spock inclined his head. “Flirting is illogical.”
His mother sighed. “Very illogical. Tell me about what you have been doing.”
“The advanced students I have been working with in quantum mechanics are making satisfactory advancements on their group research project. I believe they will make fascinating conclusions as well as having discovering interesting avenues of inquiry open to them when they participate in an outer space assignment next month. I lost an entire week of work when the fire and proceeding release of gases occurred. The advanced xenobiology students are developing their sensitivity to the different dialects of Romulan. Though, I still do not agree with the informal setting of my tutoring sessions; it would be much more beneficial for more students if the lessons were conducted in a more formal fashion.”
“I thought that you were there as a mentor rather than a teacher.”
“I am,” Spock said. “By providing extension programmes I am given the opportunity to use the Starfleet facilities for my own research purposes.”
His mother smiled at him.
“I have informed you of this previously,” Spock said.
“Yes, you have. I am simply suggesting that your informal role is the reason for the informal teaching manner,” his mother said with a soft smile. “What else is occurring in your life?”
“Christopher Pike informed me he would like to introduce me to a student on the command track with a side focus of computer programming and engineering. There is also a student in the advanced xenolinguistics programme who has requested that she be included in my sessions. She is less advanced in her studies than most of the participants. Her lecturers have provided her excellent references; however, their standards are different to my own.”
“Could you not allow her to sit in on one session and observe her skills for yourself? She may surprise you.”
Spock inclined his head. He had already contacted Nyota Uhura and offered her the same opportunity but he did not mention it to his mother. She enjoyed giving him advice even when he had already reached the same logical conclusion.
“She may prove an exception to the rule as Cadet Chekov has,” he said instead.
“Amanda,” his father’s voice called over the connection.
“Sarek,” Amanda said with a hopeful smile. “Spock is on the line, come and speak to him.”
His father appeared on the screen standing behind his mother. Sarek’s hand rested on her shoulder.
“Spock.”
“Father.”
“Your mother informed me that you had been exposed to a dangerous gas.”
“I was. I am recovered from the effects.”
“The doctors are to be commended.”
Spock inclined his head.
“When will you be coming back to Vulcan?” Amanda asked.
“I will need to obtain the schedule given to me for the Academy holidays. I shall endeavour to make arrangements to visit you over the human Christmas period.”
Spock’s mother smiled widely. “I look forward to seeing you, Spock. I love you, be safe.”
Spock lifted his hand and wished his parents goodbye. “Peace and long life, Mother. Father.”
“Peace and long life, Spock,” his father said, and the connection was severed.
/ / / Uhura \ \ \
Spock returned to his laboratory the next day and continued with his work. He had to begin the work he had completed before the fire again, however he did not lose the work completed before that day. He could hear work occurring in the laboratories above him. With focus the sounds did not impact on his work.
He allowed Uhura, she did not like to be referred to by her first name, to participate in his next xenolinguistics session. She proved to, as his mother had put it, ‘surprise him’. She had the most sensitive aural abilities he had encountered at Starfleet and she was an accomplished speaker of Vulcan. Her tutors had been correct in suggesting her for his extension sessions.
The noticeable reaction she had to him was something he would have to monitor. It would not be the first time that one of his ‘students’ had exhibited signs of sexual interest in his presence. He discouraged them all. Humans were emotional creatures and in Spock’s experience grew frustrated and annoyed with his Vulcan beliefs and the way he suppressed his emotions. They often confused suppression with not feeling.
“Professor Spock?” Uhura asked at the end of the second session.
“Cadet Uhura, I am not a professor. Spock, or Mr Spock, is the correct way of addressing me.”
“Spock,” she said with a smile. “I have a research paper on Vulcan syntax. Can you suggest any texts that my other lecturers have not already given me?”
Spock could see that her pupils were dilated beyond what was necessary in the room but he nodded. “If you are able to read Vulcan, I have two texts which will be of help to you. It is for Professor John’s course?”
“Yes.”
“I am aware of the assessment. Please accompany me to the office I have been given. The texts are there.”
Uhura smiled widely. He handed her the books, real paper books, and she touched them with the reverence that he would expect of someone who had dedicated her life to words and language.
“These are very old,” she commented.
“Yes,” Spock confirmed. “I will lend them to you for one standard week. They are very valuable and I would appreciate you taking care of them. I am lending them to you only because you are in my advanced tutorials; they are not for anyone else’s use.”
“Of course not,” Uhura said. “If you would prefer, I could borrow them and work in the student alcoves on the next floor up and then you would not have to part with them.”
“As I am not a Professor, my time in this office is limited and sporadic. I am trusting you to treat them with respect. I shall collect them from you at the next xenolinguistics meeting.”
“Of course. Thank you, Spock.”
Spock inclined his head and watched her leave. He could admit that her brain was fascinating and she was aesthetically pleasing, however he would discourage this ‘crush’ that she was obviously developing.
/ / / Dreams \ \ \
“Is there a problem, officer?” Something about Spock’s mouth felt strange even though the words came out strongly. Spock could still hear the metal screeching below and behind him. He wanted to turn, he wanted to look at what he had done, he wanted to see what he had done to…someone’s…beloved car.
“Citizen, what is your name?” the police drone called out.
Spock turned to look up at the cop with a defiant look on his face. “My name is S'chn T'gai Spock.”
Spock woke suddenly, pulled out of his dream. He had not dreamed in years. He closed his eyes again. Asleep for five hours and three minutes. His temperature was normal but there was slightly more perspiration on his skin than could be accounted for by the ambient temperature of the room. He had not dreamed since the last time he was under the effects of an illness, though, Spock could find no evidence of illness in his body’s function. Vulcans did not dream…however, Spock was not a full Vulcan.
/ \ / \ / \
Spock ignored the words behind him as he walked towards the learning pods. He ignored the racial slurs. He walked down the steps into the learning pod and selected the next lesson in his learning sequence. He knew they would be waiting for him when he exited.
As expected, they were standing on the platform above his learning pod when his time was over.
“I presume you’ve prepared new insults for today,” Spock said folding his hands behind his back.
“Affirmative,” Stonn said.
“This is your thirty-fifth attempt to elicit an emotional response from me.” Spock was not willing to admit to being…bored of this routine. They had been insulting him, calling him a half-breed and a disgrace to the Vulcan way of life, to the very teachings of his ancestor. Their arguments were not always logical. They could appear logical to those who believed that purity in the Vulcan race was the way to avoid another offshoot…another Romulan. Eventually, they would find other ways to show their displeasure. Or they would find someone new upon whom to inflict their abuse. If they chose someone else, then Spock would inform his teachers of their practices - to spare the other Vulcan.
“You’re neither human nor Vulcan, and therefore have no place in this universe.” Spock knew his place: it was here on Vulcan and it was in the home of his mother and his father who had made a conscious effort to give him life.
“Look. He has human eyes. They look sad, don’t they?” Stonn taunted. Spock knew his eyes were his mother’s - the genetic traits passed to him from his mother via his DNA. He had no reason to be ashamed of his eyes; they made his mother happy.
“Perhaps an emotional response requires physical stimuli,” Satelk said just before he shoved Spock. “He’s a traitor, you know, your father, for marrying her, that human whore.”
Spock’s response was wholly human, wholly emotional. He wanted to make Satelk and Stonn hurt for their words.
He woke just as he was about to swing his fist into Stonn’s stomach. Spock remembered the emotional response and the feel of Stonn’s body giving way to his pain and anger. The second dream in three weeks. Spock would have to go to the medical facility to ensure that his own meditations had not missed anything in his physiology.
/ \ / \ / \
The hunger gnawed at his stomach. It hurt. It hurt more than almost anything Spock had ever had to experience. He felt cold and grimy, his skin was oddly white and he could see the bones of his wrists under his stretched, tight skin. He stabbed the rat and hung it over the pathetic fire they were able to light. When it was cooked, he cut the rat and shared it among the children around him. Six of them, all younger than him. The rat did little to cut into the hunger and Spock took the smallest amount he could get away with without the other children noticing.
…
Spock was caught, the acrid smell of burning bodies catching in the back of his throat as the guards grabbed his elbow and yanked him off his feet.
“No, stop,” Spock said, trying to break the man’s grip with no strength.
“Governor Kodos would like to see this one,” the guard said and his breath turned Spock’s empty stomach.
“Please,” Spock begged and he felt as though he should be crying but he hadn’t had anything to drink in over a day. Little Tommy was going to collect water while Spock hunted for something else to eat. Spock knew he should not have ventured so close to the guards’ barracks but the children were wasting away. “Let me go.”
“Oh no.” Spock knew that voice, but he shouldn’t be out here. He should be in his facility where there was still clean water, where there was still food. “I have been looking for you, Spock. You are everything I am trying to save here. Smart, strong, resilient. You are everything that the human race should be. You are everything that I am hoping to preserve. If you would simply cooperate, if you would help me, then I would be able to make sure that the very best of people survive.”
“You are sick, those people shouldn’t have died,” Spock struck out at the man…Kodos, but his muscles were next to useless from hunger. “My family were among those cleansed. If I am so perfect, why did you kill them?”
“They were not like you, Spock. They were weak. They would never have gone down into those tunnels with the other children. My lost little orphans. They would have never eaten rats and given food to others so that they survived. I will teach you that your life is worth more than you believe it to be. I will teach you that your survival is more important than that of most people.”
“No,” Spock said, fighting against the hold on his arm again. “I don’t want that. They are more important than me.”
Kodos struck him.
When Spock woke up again he was in a room with the six children.
One of them called his name but the voice sounded muffled, like the sounds weren’t correct. It happened occasionally when someone said his name.
“How’d he get you?” Spock asked, checking the other children for injuries.
“The guards came as soon as you left,” Kevin said.
Spock pulled the other boy to him and held him tight. “We’ll get out of here, I promise.”
“Now,” Governor Kodos said walking into the room with them. “My special children.”
Spock pushed Kevin until the younger boy was standing behind him. “What do you want with us?”
“You are all special, you are all exactly what the human race needs and you are all going to help me to fix the problems with the human race as it is now.”
Spock felt sick; if he had eaten anything but a pathetic amount of rat meat he would have thrown up. Then the sirens started screaming in the room. Kodos snarled out a question to the guards and Spock strained to hear the answer.
“The Federation is here.”
“Get the children,” Kodos said, swinging the door open.
The guards shook their heads. “We’re saved, we don’t have to do this anymore.”
Kodos screamed in anger and one of the guards shot him.
“Come on,” the guard said to the children and they ran past Kodos where he lay bleeding on the floor.
He woke up with a start. Hungry. He had eaten at his regular dinner time and yet he could feel the phantom hunger from his dream. He knew it was illogical. A dream could not make a Vulcan, nor anyone else, hungry and yet he felt the illogical need to eat. He rose from his bed and lit his meditation candles. He folded himself down into his meditation position and breathed himself into his mind. He meditated until the hunger left his body.
/ / / \ \ \
“Like I care,” Spock spat out. “I don’t need you and I don’t need this place.”
“Spock!” His mother shouted, her face twisted into a mask of anger. “If you leave this house, don’t you ever come back.”
Spock’s eyes opened and he sat up. “Lights, twenty percent.”
His mother had never looked at him like that. His mother had never, in his life, spoken to him in that way. Even when he had left Earth she had merely held him. Even though Vulcans did not hug she had pulled him into her and held him tight. There had been something wrong with his dreams since the beginning. A strange mix of his own and alien ones. He had been examined by the southern doctor who flirted with his mother. They could find nothing and Spock could not explain his dreams. Some of them were…fascinating and he found himself intrigued by them, however there were many that showed the worst he knew of human behaviour.
There was no explanation for them.
/ / / Nyota \ \ \
“Please, call me Nyota,” Uhura said with a shy smile.
“You informed me at our first meeting that you preferred to be called Uhura.”
“I do,” she said and bit her bottom lip. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to a vegetarian restaurant in San Francisco, the actual town, on Friday night. I thought it would be good if you called me by my given name.”
“Do you intend for this meal to constitute a date?”
“I would like it to,” Uhura said. “However, I understand if that is not an option at the moment.”
“I am your advisor, in a teaching role, it would be inappropriate for us to…date.”
“No,” Uhura said. “I checked. You are not a member of the teaching staff. Since you are not a teacher our groups are classed as study sessions. There is nothing inappropriate in us dating. I am not given a grade by you and you are here in a scientific and research role until the Enterprise is ready to go on its mission. I have to say, a five year exploratory mission sounds like the exact reason I joined Starfleet.”
“It should be a very informative mission,” Spock agreed. “I have…enjoyed our conversations, Uhura. However, I do not wish to encourage feelings that are not reciprocated.”
Uhura nodded and was silent for a long moment. “Okay, that’s fine. Can we be friends?”
Spock inclined his head.
“Then would you like to try a vegetarian restaurant with me as my friend?” Uhura asked.
“I would.” Spock said allowing his face to relax slightly - humans always took it to be a comforting expression.
/ / / Dreaming \ \ \
“Spock,” the girl said. She had long red hair and smiled at him as she took her top off. “I’ve never done this before.”
“It’s okay,” Spock said running a finger over her bottom lip. “I’ll take care of you.”
She smiled at him.
/ \ / \ / \
“Spock,” T’Pring said, but for some reason she was out of focus and her hair was blonde where it should be brunette.
“T’Pring,” Spock said, holding two fingers out to her.
She hesitated and then held her fingers up as well. “Spock.”
“I declare these two houses joined together from this koon’ul forth,” T’Pau said.
/ \ / \ / \
“Hello,” the man drawled and he leaned on the bar next to Spock.
“Hi.”
“And what’s your name, gorgeous?”
Spock looked the man up and down and then let a smile stretch over his face. “Spock.”
“You know, Spock, that is a very nice skirt but it would go so much better with my couch.”
Spock let out a laugh. “What’s your name?”
“Gary.” The man winked at Spock. “Gary Mitchell.”
/ \ / \ / \
Leila was sitting next to Spock in the lecture hall.
She smiled at him. “I would like to meet again to discuss our assignment.”
“Of course,” Spock said.
They met after the lecture, in his room. She was naked before he had even asked her if she would like some refreshment. She never quite understood the Vulcan ideas about kissing, but he had to admit to finding more pleasure in the act than he would have suspected. She never looked happy when he did avoid her human kisses, though she never endeavoured to kiss him in the Vulcan way. He knew she was going to leave him. She could not reconcile what she wanted with who he was.
/ \ / \ / \
Spock saw Stonn across the marketplace. The other Vulcan made his way over until he was standing next to Spock.
“I have been informed that you were admitted to the Vulcan Science Academy.”
“I believe that you were not,” Spock said rather than confirming something Stonn already knew.
“Why would they want a being like you in the VSA?”
Spock twisted his head to look at Stonn. “Because I am the most accomplished candidate. Perhaps, now that I have turned the offer down you will be given the honour.”
Spock turned and walked away from Stonn. He found his mother purchasing human soap from a vendor and spent the rest of their shopping excursion at her side.
/ \ / \ / \
“George,” Spock pleaded. “Don’t leave me here with him.”
“I’m sorry. Mum won’t let me take you. I can’t stay here any longer.”
“I know, but, George, please don’t leave me.”
George pulled Spock into a tight hug. “He won’t let me stay and Mum won’t listen. I can’t stay here.”
“Please.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Mum said she was going to send you to live with her sister over summer. I’m sure they’ll let you stay there longer. I don’t want to leave you, Spocky, but I have to go.”
Spock hugged him tighter.
“If Mum doesn’t send you to Tarsus IV for the summer, send me a message and I’ll come back.”
“George.”
“Get out of here, you insubordinate little shit,” Frank said bursting into the room with Spock and George. “You’re not welcome in this house any longer.”
“I know,” George said, walking over to Frank. “But if you touch a hair on Spock’s head, I will come back and gut you like a fucking fish.”
“Get out.”
Spock rushed back to George’s side.
“I promise you, everything will be okay.”
Spock took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. “Goodbye, George.”
“Goodbye, Spocky.”
/ \ / \ / \
Spock sat next to his father. His lip and jaw ached and his fingers were sore.
“You suggest I should become completely Vulcan, and yet you married a human.”
“As Ambassador to Earth, it is my duty to observe and understand human behaviour. Marrying your mother was…logical.”
Spock felt…sad for his mother. She loved his father, she had come to Vulcan where she was never treated well and he did not even love her.
/ / / Mother \ \ \
“Spock,” his mother said happily. “What a lovely surprise.”
“I apologise for the unexpected communication.” Spock said noting the pleasure in her expression.
His mother just smiled at him. “It’s always lovely to hear from you. Is something wrong?”
Spock nodded. “I find that I have something I wish to discuss.”
“I am always happy to speak to you, Spock. What can I do to help?”
“I have been unsettled when sleeping of late and find that, as Vulcans do not enter the same REM cycles as humans and their brains do not fire randomly while they are asleep to provide them dreams, I have only you to ask.”
“You’ve been dreaming?”
“It is, of course, not the first time.”
“No,” his mother said with a small smile. Spock had dreamed as a child, very rarely and only when he was unwell. “But now you are dreaming regularly?”
“I find myself needing more sleep than I have before as a result of these dreams. I wish for you to tell me how to stop dreaming.”
His mother frowned at him. While she maintained a calm façade outside of their house, she had never tried to hide emotions from him. It had been most helpful when he had decided to come to Earth and join Starfleet and was surrounded by people who spoke more with their bodies than they sometimes did with their mouths. No wonder very few Vulcan ambassadors did well on this planet; it would be difficult to understand them if you did not first know how to read them.
“Spock, you cannot force yourself to stop dreaming. I am sorry.”
“That is illogical, as something must have caused the dreams and therefore something must be able to stop them.”
“Have you been unwell?”
“No.” Spock, of course, thought of that first. “I even submitted myself to a physical by one of the doctors here, the one you found charming. He was a highly competent doctor and was able to assure me that my presence on this planet has not adversely affected my health.”
“Spock, you’ve been there for almost eight years. I don’t think the atmosphere would suddenly begin to affect you.”
“Most logical, Mother.”
She sighed at him. “But you have been back from your mission aboard the Prometheus for over a year, so nothing should be affecting you in this way from that either.”
“Exactly as I surmised, however I thought it prudent to have a medical professional double-check my findings as I have only ever dreamed previously when I have been unwell.”
“That you remember.”
“Please explain?”
“Humans dream all night, lots of little dreams, but they do not remember most of them. Perhaps you have always dreamed but your brain only allows you to remember them when you are sick.”
Spock thought on that for a moment. It was a logical suggestion, but it still did not help him with his current dilemma.
“Of course there must be a reason you are remembering them now. Spock, are you willing to share the contents of your dreams?”
“I am living on a small farm somewhere in the United States when they started. They have continued until I appear to be a fully grown adult human, though lately they have begun to involve Starfleet. I am always myself in the dreams, but I am doing things that I have never done.”
“So they are a series of dreams about the same thing?”
“Incorrect, they are a series of dreams from the same perspective.”
“Your perspective, or someone else’s?”
“Mine, though I have never been to a farm so I do not know where the dreams came from.”
His mother nodded and wore the expression she always did when she was thinking something over. “Spock,” she said at last. “What is your workload like at the moment?”
“My xenolinguistics group has asked to meet twice weekly for the remainder of the semester. I agreed. The advanced astrophysics students I work with are on break for two weeks while the students participate in a practical period on board the Farragot. However, everything else is as it has been for the last six months and three days.”
“No, ashal-veh, I meant are you very busy with your own research and experiments at the moment.”
“Slightly less than usual due to the absence of my astrophysics group.”
“Good, I would like you to think back to those dreams and write detailed summaries of them.”
“For what purpose?”
“There is evidence that dreams in humans are ways for them to work though problems or issues that they have. By looking at the dreams and what occurs within them, we may be able to work out the reason for you having them and therefore fix it. It could be something as simple as your brain attempting to reconcile being on a strange planet.”
Spock thought through her reasoning. Her suggested reason for his dreams seemed flawed given the length of time he had spent on Earth, however he did not mention this to his mother. “That is a reasonable strategy. I shall contact you again on Sunday Earth time for our normal communication.”
“I look forward to it, Spock. I love you, be safe,” his mother said in her usual goodbye.
Spock lifted his hand and wished her goodbye. “Peace and long life, Mother.”
/ / /
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05
Author: luvsbitca
Artists: amechiro and numberthescars
Series: AOS (I really do see a difference between AOS-Kirk and TOS-Kirk)
Pairing: girl!Kirk/Spock
Additional Pairings: Really background Sarek/Amanda
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it all belongs to other people, but these insane little ramblings are my way of playing in the sandpit.
Warnings: Genderbending (always a girl Kirk), mentions of unhappy childhoods (child abuse allusions - nothing detailed)
Summary: While working at the Starfleet Academy science labs Spock is exposed to an unknown gas. Soon after he begins to have dreams where he is growing up on a farm somewhere in America. The dreams lead him to a woman named Jane Kirk and he discovers those dreams are her memories. {Involves: academy era, genderchange, accidental bonding}
Author’s Notes: 90% of this is in Spock POV, however occasionally I let Jane (Kirk) have a chance and when that occurs this /J\/a\/n\/e\ will appear to signal the change.
I know Kirk's brother went by Sam in AOS but I have this image of him demanding to be called George after his father dies so I'm going with it.
I wrote most of this in about twenty-four hours because I had the wrong date for the artist claims but I am still pretty happy with it. Enjoy…
I was lucky enough to have two amazing artists create images for this story. amechiro and numberthescars who I would love to heap praise upon because they made this such a lovely Big Bang experience. Thank you both so very much, go and check out what they created. Really, the mix and art and everything is just stunning and you should check it all out.
Thank you to thesewarmstars who spent valuable time editing this. I appreciate all of your hard work. The final read through was mine and I’m a fiddler so any mistakes are mine.
Thank you to spockchick for both created the perfect picture of T’Pring in AOS that matched the picture in my head almost perfectly. And for letting me link to it later in the story.
The ART!!!!
numberthescars art at LJ
amechiro mix/art at LJ
Seriously, go and check them out - they are amazing!!!
The Mix
Want more for your experience? amechiro made a mix. Click on her amazing image and you can check out the mix.
image and mix by amechiro
image by numberthescars
Alternative Serendipity
by Moonbeam
/ / / Accident \ \ \
S'chn T'gai Spock was working in a lab when the fire started. The warning bells began to scream, pulling him away from the delicate process of cross-breeding the two species of fish. Spock shut the lab down quickly, doing his best to ensure that the entire week’s work was not going to be lost due to a drill. He pulled the door shut behind him and started for the stairs. As soon as he opened the door he was able to smell the acrid smoke filling the stairwell. Spock could tell that it was a chemical fire coming from three floors above him but he paid it no attention until he heard the faint, coughing beg for help. Spock turned and started up the stairs instead of down.
Spock pushed the door open slowly, watching for any flames that would reach out of the oxygen-starved room beyond. Nothing came and Spock pushed the door open and walked into the hallway. He could smell the smoke much more strongly now and he slowed his respiration rate down as much as he could to avoid inhaling more than was absolutely necessary. Spock made his way through the hallway quickly by methodically checking the rooms as he went, trying to locate the voice he had heard earlier. At the centre of the building, where the main lab on each level was located, Spock found two things. He could see three people stuck in the main lab trying desperately to get out as the glass-walled room filled with smoke and he could see a woman with long hair trying to get into another lab. He heard banging from the other side of the door the woman was attempting to open. He could also hear the coughing and pleading voices from the main lab so he turned his back to the woman and attempted to open the door using the outside panel. Unsurprisingly, it did not open and he used his greater than human strength to open the panel cover next to the door and began the quick task of overriding the door’s locking mechanism. It was the work of fifty-four seconds to get the lock to disengage and then Spock had no other option but to open the door bodily. Two of the people inside the lab had collapsed from whatever gases were being spread around the room, but the one remaining was using what little strength he had to push on the door from the other side. The gases began to escape more quickly from the room before a slim golden hand slid into the gap under Spock’s arms and started pushing the door with them. The man in the lab collapsed just as they got the door open enough for the woman who was standing next to Spock to slide between his body and the wall to jam herself into the opening and push with both hands until there was a large enough gap for two people to squeeze through.
“I’ve got this,” the woman said. “Grab the people inside.”
Spock nodded and released his hold on the door slowly to ensure that the woman was indeed able to maintain the gap alone. He selected the man near the door first, pulling him away from the doorway completely before he ducked his head to return for the other two. When he was sure there was no one else in the lab they let the door fall closed.
“I can carry the weight of two humans down the stairs required,” Spock said to the woman he could now see clearly, startlingly blue eyes with a number of dark smudges on her skin from the work they had been doing.
“I will take the other one then,” she said and began hefting the smallest of the unconscious humans up and onto her shoulders.
Spock waited until she was suitably organised before he lifted both of the remaining bodies and they started towards the stairwell door. At that moment, it opened and a team of emergency personnel entered the hallway. Spock calculated that they had taken eight minutes and fifty-seven seconds to respond to the warnings. That delay was entirely too long and he would need to report the time to the person in charge of the team. Spock refused the offer to relieve him of his burden allowing the emergency personnel to instead check the area while he made his way carefully down the stairs. Once in the open air Spock noticed three things: his eyes were unnaturally sensitive to the sunlight, he was breathing more heavily than he should have been and the doctor who immediately approached them had a scowl on his face that was directed at the woman next to him.
“Dammit, Jane, what were you doing in there?” The doctor asked as Spock was relieved of his burden and they were both put on stretchers.
The woman stood in front of Spock suddenly. “Are you okay? You look pale?”
She reached for him and as their skin made contact Spock shoved his shields up as quickly as he could. He could not understand, however, why the world went black immediately after the contact.
/ / / McCoy \ \ \
Spock regained consciousness to find a man standing over him. The man muttered under his breath as Spock’s vision widened enough to take in the world around him.
“I’m Dr McCoy,” the man said when he noticed that Spock had was watching him. “What’s your name?”
“Spock.” Spock tried to sit up but the doctor pressed a hand to his shoulder and held him down.
“The gas you were exposed to was the result of an experiment on some rocks from Targin VII which apparently have some very unique reactions with tungsten. While it is dangerous to humans in a similar way to carbon monoxide, it is quite a different matter for Vulcans. You will need to remain in the medical bay overnight at least. You are not going anywhere just yet, Spock.”
“Explain.”
Dr McCoy glared at him, but spoke as he was looking at Spock’s readings. “You have different readings from any Vulcan I have ever treated, Spock. Good thing they had your scans from the Prometheus on file.”
“Doctor, I would like to know what reaction my physiology had with the gases that were produced.”
“Well that was a little more polite, I suppose,” the man said gruffly. “The gas produced had a reaction with your eyes and your central nervous system; specifically it affected your ability to access and control your touch telepathy. So, when Jane touched you you tried to shield yourself and instead your system, already on overload, shut down in preservation.”
“My eyes were sensitive when we exited the building.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re extremely lucky there was no brain damage.”
“I had reduced my respiration in response to the unknown gas.”
“Very smart, Mr Spock,” the doctor said before pressing a hypo to his neck. “If you hadn’t, you could have died. As it is I would like you to slip into a healing trance.”
“We do not slip into anything; it is a methodical process by which…what was in that hypospray?”
“Goodnight, Mr Spock,” the doctor said as the world started to drift again. Spock felt a prickle of annoyance but knew it could come to nothing when he found it almost impossible to move. He centred himself instead and focused on the damage to his body that he could repair.
/ / / Chapel \ \ \
“Strike me!” A slap across his face. “Harder. Harder!”
When Spock came out of his healing trance there was a blonde woman standing by his bed looking at his readings. She was flexing her hand as she did so.
“Mr Spock, I’m Dr Chapel,” she said with a smile. “Your readings have returned to normal. When you have eaten and had something to drink you can be released.”
Spock inclined his head.
Dr Chapel smiled at him. “I have ordered you some plomeek soup.”
“Thank you.”
/ / / Amanda \ \ \
Two hours later Spock let himself into his academy apartment. Though he was neither student nor professor, he had been given the accommodation upon his return from service aboard the Prometheus when he opted to remain at the Academy and conduct research until he was able to join Captain Pike, once again, on the Enterprise, due for completion in two years and six months.
The opportunity to participate in a five year mission in previously uncharted sections of space was more intellectually stimulating than the other missions available. The break of three years and two months was an opportunity to participate in a number of research projects within Spock’s main areas of study. He had agreed as well to provide advanced tutoring to a select number of the brightest students in astrophysics, quantum mechanics, astrography, xenolinguistics and warp engineering. Since he had returned to the academy he had found the work he had done to be…fulfilling.
Spock bathed and then turned on his personal terminal to ensure that no important messages awaited him. The only one of importance or urgency was from his mother, who had contacted him upon having heard of the accident. He would contact her after he had meditated.
Spock settled onto his meditation mat and sunk slowly into his mind, focusing on the moments just before the fire notification and proceeding through until the time when he passed out to analyse his actions and responses in an attempt to locate moments of weakness against the gas.
He could find no fault in his actions after he had meditated on the even. Spock had managed to complete all of his objectives before succumbing to the effects of the gas, which he had ignored in his focus on the mission, though on reflection he could pinpoint his susceptibility.
Spock rose from his meditation mat and drank a glass of water before he placed a call, through the Vulcan embassy, to his mother.
“Spock,” she said in greeting. “You look well.”
“I am most adequate.”
His mother smiled at him.
“Mother, I received your message when I returned from the medical centre. I apologise for not returning your call earlier, however, I had not had a chance to meditate properly since the completion of my healing trance.”
“Are you well, Spock?”
“The effects of the gas have been repaired and I am now back to complete health.”
“Oh, good.” She smiled at him. “I was worried about you, but your lovely doctor spoke to me and ensured me of your health.”
“My lovely doctor?”
“McCoy, he spoke to me when I called to find out how you were.”
“I fail to see how you could find the man lovely; he was ill-tempered and quite abrupt.”
His mother smiled at him. “Well, he was charming when he spoke to me, such a flirt.”
Spock frowned at his mother. “Why would he flirt with a married woman?”
“Oh, Spock,” his mother said with a smile. “For the fun of it, of course. I haven’t been flirted with since the last time I was on Earth. Vulcans don’t know how to flirt at all.”
Spock inclined his head. “Flirting is illogical.”
His mother sighed. “Very illogical. Tell me about what you have been doing.”
“The advanced students I have been working with in quantum mechanics are making satisfactory advancements on their group research project. I believe they will make fascinating conclusions as well as having discovering interesting avenues of inquiry open to them when they participate in an outer space assignment next month. I lost an entire week of work when the fire and proceeding release of gases occurred. The advanced xenobiology students are developing their sensitivity to the different dialects of Romulan. Though, I still do not agree with the informal setting of my tutoring sessions; it would be much more beneficial for more students if the lessons were conducted in a more formal fashion.”
“I thought that you were there as a mentor rather than a teacher.”
“I am,” Spock said. “By providing extension programmes I am given the opportunity to use the Starfleet facilities for my own research purposes.”
His mother smiled at him.
“I have informed you of this previously,” Spock said.
“Yes, you have. I am simply suggesting that your informal role is the reason for the informal teaching manner,” his mother said with a soft smile. “What else is occurring in your life?”
“Christopher Pike informed me he would like to introduce me to a student on the command track with a side focus of computer programming and engineering. There is also a student in the advanced xenolinguistics programme who has requested that she be included in my sessions. She is less advanced in her studies than most of the participants. Her lecturers have provided her excellent references; however, their standards are different to my own.”
“Could you not allow her to sit in on one session and observe her skills for yourself? She may surprise you.”
Spock inclined his head. He had already contacted Nyota Uhura and offered her the same opportunity but he did not mention it to his mother. She enjoyed giving him advice even when he had already reached the same logical conclusion.
“She may prove an exception to the rule as Cadet Chekov has,” he said instead.
“Amanda,” his father’s voice called over the connection.
“Sarek,” Amanda said with a hopeful smile. “Spock is on the line, come and speak to him.”
His father appeared on the screen standing behind his mother. Sarek’s hand rested on her shoulder.
“Spock.”
“Father.”
“Your mother informed me that you had been exposed to a dangerous gas.”
“I was. I am recovered from the effects.”
“The doctors are to be commended.”
Spock inclined his head.
“When will you be coming back to Vulcan?” Amanda asked.
“I will need to obtain the schedule given to me for the Academy holidays. I shall endeavour to make arrangements to visit you over the human Christmas period.”
Spock’s mother smiled widely. “I look forward to seeing you, Spock. I love you, be safe.”
Spock lifted his hand and wished his parents goodbye. “Peace and long life, Mother. Father.”
“Peace and long life, Spock,” his father said, and the connection was severed.
/ / / Uhura \ \ \
Spock returned to his laboratory the next day and continued with his work. He had to begin the work he had completed before the fire again, however he did not lose the work completed before that day. He could hear work occurring in the laboratories above him. With focus the sounds did not impact on his work.
He allowed Uhura, she did not like to be referred to by her first name, to participate in his next xenolinguistics session. She proved to, as his mother had put it, ‘surprise him’. She had the most sensitive aural abilities he had encountered at Starfleet and she was an accomplished speaker of Vulcan. Her tutors had been correct in suggesting her for his extension sessions.
The noticeable reaction she had to him was something he would have to monitor. It would not be the first time that one of his ‘students’ had exhibited signs of sexual interest in his presence. He discouraged them all. Humans were emotional creatures and in Spock’s experience grew frustrated and annoyed with his Vulcan beliefs and the way he suppressed his emotions. They often confused suppression with not feeling.
“Professor Spock?” Uhura asked at the end of the second session.
“Cadet Uhura, I am not a professor. Spock, or Mr Spock, is the correct way of addressing me.”
“Spock,” she said with a smile. “I have a research paper on Vulcan syntax. Can you suggest any texts that my other lecturers have not already given me?”
Spock could see that her pupils were dilated beyond what was necessary in the room but he nodded. “If you are able to read Vulcan, I have two texts which will be of help to you. It is for Professor John’s course?”
“Yes.”
“I am aware of the assessment. Please accompany me to the office I have been given. The texts are there.”
Uhura smiled widely. He handed her the books, real paper books, and she touched them with the reverence that he would expect of someone who had dedicated her life to words and language.
“These are very old,” she commented.
“Yes,” Spock confirmed. “I will lend them to you for one standard week. They are very valuable and I would appreciate you taking care of them. I am lending them to you only because you are in my advanced tutorials; they are not for anyone else’s use.”
“Of course not,” Uhura said. “If you would prefer, I could borrow them and work in the student alcoves on the next floor up and then you would not have to part with them.”
“As I am not a Professor, my time in this office is limited and sporadic. I am trusting you to treat them with respect. I shall collect them from you at the next xenolinguistics meeting.”
“Of course. Thank you, Spock.”
Spock inclined his head and watched her leave. He could admit that her brain was fascinating and she was aesthetically pleasing, however he would discourage this ‘crush’ that she was obviously developing.
/ / / Dreams \ \ \
“Is there a problem, officer?” Something about Spock’s mouth felt strange even though the words came out strongly. Spock could still hear the metal screeching below and behind him. He wanted to turn, he wanted to look at what he had done, he wanted to see what he had done to…someone’s…beloved car.
“Citizen, what is your name?” the police drone called out.
Spock turned to look up at the cop with a defiant look on his face. “My name is S'chn T'gai Spock.”
Spock woke suddenly, pulled out of his dream. He had not dreamed in years. He closed his eyes again. Asleep for five hours and three minutes. His temperature was normal but there was slightly more perspiration on his skin than could be accounted for by the ambient temperature of the room. He had not dreamed since the last time he was under the effects of an illness, though, Spock could find no evidence of illness in his body’s function. Vulcans did not dream…however, Spock was not a full Vulcan.
/ \ / \ / \
Spock ignored the words behind him as he walked towards the learning pods. He ignored the racial slurs. He walked down the steps into the learning pod and selected the next lesson in his learning sequence. He knew they would be waiting for him when he exited.
As expected, they were standing on the platform above his learning pod when his time was over.
“I presume you’ve prepared new insults for today,” Spock said folding his hands behind his back.
“Affirmative,” Stonn said.
“This is your thirty-fifth attempt to elicit an emotional response from me.” Spock was not willing to admit to being…bored of this routine. They had been insulting him, calling him a half-breed and a disgrace to the Vulcan way of life, to the very teachings of his ancestor. Their arguments were not always logical. They could appear logical to those who believed that purity in the Vulcan race was the way to avoid another offshoot…another Romulan. Eventually, they would find other ways to show their displeasure. Or they would find someone new upon whom to inflict their abuse. If they chose someone else, then Spock would inform his teachers of their practices - to spare the other Vulcan.
“You’re neither human nor Vulcan, and therefore have no place in this universe.” Spock knew his place: it was here on Vulcan and it was in the home of his mother and his father who had made a conscious effort to give him life.
“Look. He has human eyes. They look sad, don’t they?” Stonn taunted. Spock knew his eyes were his mother’s - the genetic traits passed to him from his mother via his DNA. He had no reason to be ashamed of his eyes; they made his mother happy.
“Perhaps an emotional response requires physical stimuli,” Satelk said just before he shoved Spock. “He’s a traitor, you know, your father, for marrying her, that human whore.”
Spock’s response was wholly human, wholly emotional. He wanted to make Satelk and Stonn hurt for their words.
He woke just as he was about to swing his fist into Stonn’s stomach. Spock remembered the emotional response and the feel of Stonn’s body giving way to his pain and anger. The second dream in three weeks. Spock would have to go to the medical facility to ensure that his own meditations had not missed anything in his physiology.
/ \ / \ / \
The hunger gnawed at his stomach. It hurt. It hurt more than almost anything Spock had ever had to experience. He felt cold and grimy, his skin was oddly white and he could see the bones of his wrists under his stretched, tight skin. He stabbed the rat and hung it over the pathetic fire they were able to light. When it was cooked, he cut the rat and shared it among the children around him. Six of them, all younger than him. The rat did little to cut into the hunger and Spock took the smallest amount he could get away with without the other children noticing.
…
Spock was caught, the acrid smell of burning bodies catching in the back of his throat as the guards grabbed his elbow and yanked him off his feet.
“No, stop,” Spock said, trying to break the man’s grip with no strength.
“Governor Kodos would like to see this one,” the guard said and his breath turned Spock’s empty stomach.
“Please,” Spock begged and he felt as though he should be crying but he hadn’t had anything to drink in over a day. Little Tommy was going to collect water while Spock hunted for something else to eat. Spock knew he should not have ventured so close to the guards’ barracks but the children were wasting away. “Let me go.”
“Oh no.” Spock knew that voice, but he shouldn’t be out here. He should be in his facility where there was still clean water, where there was still food. “I have been looking for you, Spock. You are everything I am trying to save here. Smart, strong, resilient. You are everything that the human race should be. You are everything that I am hoping to preserve. If you would simply cooperate, if you would help me, then I would be able to make sure that the very best of people survive.”
“You are sick, those people shouldn’t have died,” Spock struck out at the man…Kodos, but his muscles were next to useless from hunger. “My family were among those cleansed. If I am so perfect, why did you kill them?”
“They were not like you, Spock. They were weak. They would never have gone down into those tunnels with the other children. My lost little orphans. They would have never eaten rats and given food to others so that they survived. I will teach you that your life is worth more than you believe it to be. I will teach you that your survival is more important than that of most people.”
“No,” Spock said, fighting against the hold on his arm again. “I don’t want that. They are more important than me.”
Kodos struck him.
When Spock woke up again he was in a room with the six children.
One of them called his name but the voice sounded muffled, like the sounds weren’t correct. It happened occasionally when someone said his name.
“How’d he get you?” Spock asked, checking the other children for injuries.
“The guards came as soon as you left,” Kevin said.
Spock pulled the other boy to him and held him tight. “We’ll get out of here, I promise.”
“Now,” Governor Kodos said walking into the room with them. “My special children.”
Spock pushed Kevin until the younger boy was standing behind him. “What do you want with us?”
“You are all special, you are all exactly what the human race needs and you are all going to help me to fix the problems with the human race as it is now.”
Spock felt sick; if he had eaten anything but a pathetic amount of rat meat he would have thrown up. Then the sirens started screaming in the room. Kodos snarled out a question to the guards and Spock strained to hear the answer.
“The Federation is here.”
“Get the children,” Kodos said, swinging the door open.
The guards shook their heads. “We’re saved, we don’t have to do this anymore.”
Kodos screamed in anger and one of the guards shot him.
“Come on,” the guard said to the children and they ran past Kodos where he lay bleeding on the floor.
He woke up with a start. Hungry. He had eaten at his regular dinner time and yet he could feel the phantom hunger from his dream. He knew it was illogical. A dream could not make a Vulcan, nor anyone else, hungry and yet he felt the illogical need to eat. He rose from his bed and lit his meditation candles. He folded himself down into his meditation position and breathed himself into his mind. He meditated until the hunger left his body.
/ / / \ \ \
“Like I care,” Spock spat out. “I don’t need you and I don’t need this place.”
“Spock!” His mother shouted, her face twisted into a mask of anger. “If you leave this house, don’t you ever come back.”
Spock’s eyes opened and he sat up. “Lights, twenty percent.”
His mother had never looked at him like that. His mother had never, in his life, spoken to him in that way. Even when he had left Earth she had merely held him. Even though Vulcans did not hug she had pulled him into her and held him tight. There had been something wrong with his dreams since the beginning. A strange mix of his own and alien ones. He had been examined by the southern doctor who flirted with his mother. They could find nothing and Spock could not explain his dreams. Some of them were…fascinating and he found himself intrigued by them, however there were many that showed the worst he knew of human behaviour.
There was no explanation for them.
/ / / Nyota \ \ \
“Please, call me Nyota,” Uhura said with a shy smile.
“You informed me at our first meeting that you preferred to be called Uhura.”
“I do,” she said and bit her bottom lip. “I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to a vegetarian restaurant in San Francisco, the actual town, on Friday night. I thought it would be good if you called me by my given name.”
“Do you intend for this meal to constitute a date?”
“I would like it to,” Uhura said. “However, I understand if that is not an option at the moment.”
“I am your advisor, in a teaching role, it would be inappropriate for us to…date.”
“No,” Uhura said. “I checked. You are not a member of the teaching staff. Since you are not a teacher our groups are classed as study sessions. There is nothing inappropriate in us dating. I am not given a grade by you and you are here in a scientific and research role until the Enterprise is ready to go on its mission. I have to say, a five year exploratory mission sounds like the exact reason I joined Starfleet.”
“It should be a very informative mission,” Spock agreed. “I have…enjoyed our conversations, Uhura. However, I do not wish to encourage feelings that are not reciprocated.”
Uhura nodded and was silent for a long moment. “Okay, that’s fine. Can we be friends?”
Spock inclined his head.
“Then would you like to try a vegetarian restaurant with me as my friend?” Uhura asked.
“I would.” Spock said allowing his face to relax slightly - humans always took it to be a comforting expression.
/ / / Dreaming \ \ \
“Spock,” the girl said. She had long red hair and smiled at him as she took her top off. “I’ve never done this before.”
“It’s okay,” Spock said running a finger over her bottom lip. “I’ll take care of you.”
She smiled at him.
/ \ / \ / \
“Spock,” T’Pring said, but for some reason she was out of focus and her hair was blonde where it should be brunette.
“T’Pring,” Spock said, holding two fingers out to her.
She hesitated and then held her fingers up as well. “Spock.”
“I declare these two houses joined together from this koon’ul forth,” T’Pau said.
/ \ / \ / \
“Hello,” the man drawled and he leaned on the bar next to Spock.
“Hi.”
“And what’s your name, gorgeous?”
Spock looked the man up and down and then let a smile stretch over his face. “Spock.”
“You know, Spock, that is a very nice skirt but it would go so much better with my couch.”
Spock let out a laugh. “What’s your name?”
“Gary.” The man winked at Spock. “Gary Mitchell.”
/ \ / \ / \
Leila was sitting next to Spock in the lecture hall.
She smiled at him. “I would like to meet again to discuss our assignment.”
“Of course,” Spock said.
They met after the lecture, in his room. She was naked before he had even asked her if she would like some refreshment. She never quite understood the Vulcan ideas about kissing, but he had to admit to finding more pleasure in the act than he would have suspected. She never looked happy when he did avoid her human kisses, though she never endeavoured to kiss him in the Vulcan way. He knew she was going to leave him. She could not reconcile what she wanted with who he was.
/ \ / \ / \
Spock saw Stonn across the marketplace. The other Vulcan made his way over until he was standing next to Spock.
“I have been informed that you were admitted to the Vulcan Science Academy.”
“I believe that you were not,” Spock said rather than confirming something Stonn already knew.
“Why would they want a being like you in the VSA?”
Spock twisted his head to look at Stonn. “Because I am the most accomplished candidate. Perhaps, now that I have turned the offer down you will be given the honour.”
Spock turned and walked away from Stonn. He found his mother purchasing human soap from a vendor and spent the rest of their shopping excursion at her side.
/ \ / \ / \
“George,” Spock pleaded. “Don’t leave me here with him.”
“I’m sorry. Mum won’t let me take you. I can’t stay here any longer.”
“I know, but, George, please don’t leave me.”
George pulled Spock into a tight hug. “He won’t let me stay and Mum won’t listen. I can’t stay here.”
“Please.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Mum said she was going to send you to live with her sister over summer. I’m sure they’ll let you stay there longer. I don’t want to leave you, Spocky, but I have to go.”
Spock hugged him tighter.
“If Mum doesn’t send you to Tarsus IV for the summer, send me a message and I’ll come back.”
“George.”
“Get out of here, you insubordinate little shit,” Frank said bursting into the room with Spock and George. “You’re not welcome in this house any longer.”
“I know,” George said, walking over to Frank. “But if you touch a hair on Spock’s head, I will come back and gut you like a fucking fish.”
“Get out.”
Spock rushed back to George’s side.
“I promise you, everything will be okay.”
Spock took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. “Goodbye, George.”
“Goodbye, Spocky.”
/ \ / \ / \
Spock sat next to his father. His lip and jaw ached and his fingers were sore.
“You suggest I should become completely Vulcan, and yet you married a human.”
“As Ambassador to Earth, it is my duty to observe and understand human behaviour. Marrying your mother was…logical.”
Spock felt…sad for his mother. She loved his father, she had come to Vulcan where she was never treated well and he did not even love her.
/ / / Mother \ \ \
“Spock,” his mother said happily. “What a lovely surprise.”
“I apologise for the unexpected communication.” Spock said noting the pleasure in her expression.
His mother just smiled at him. “It’s always lovely to hear from you. Is something wrong?”
Spock nodded. “I find that I have something I wish to discuss.”
“I am always happy to speak to you, Spock. What can I do to help?”
“I have been unsettled when sleeping of late and find that, as Vulcans do not enter the same REM cycles as humans and their brains do not fire randomly while they are asleep to provide them dreams, I have only you to ask.”
“You’ve been dreaming?”
“It is, of course, not the first time.”
“No,” his mother said with a small smile. Spock had dreamed as a child, very rarely and only when he was unwell. “But now you are dreaming regularly?”
“I find myself needing more sleep than I have before as a result of these dreams. I wish for you to tell me how to stop dreaming.”
His mother frowned at him. While she maintained a calm façade outside of their house, she had never tried to hide emotions from him. It had been most helpful when he had decided to come to Earth and join Starfleet and was surrounded by people who spoke more with their bodies than they sometimes did with their mouths. No wonder very few Vulcan ambassadors did well on this planet; it would be difficult to understand them if you did not first know how to read them.
“Spock, you cannot force yourself to stop dreaming. I am sorry.”
“That is illogical, as something must have caused the dreams and therefore something must be able to stop them.”
“Have you been unwell?”
“No.” Spock, of course, thought of that first. “I even submitted myself to a physical by one of the doctors here, the one you found charming. He was a highly competent doctor and was able to assure me that my presence on this planet has not adversely affected my health.”
“Spock, you’ve been there for almost eight years. I don’t think the atmosphere would suddenly begin to affect you.”
“Most logical, Mother.”
She sighed at him. “But you have been back from your mission aboard the Prometheus for over a year, so nothing should be affecting you in this way from that either.”
“Exactly as I surmised, however I thought it prudent to have a medical professional double-check my findings as I have only ever dreamed previously when I have been unwell.”
“That you remember.”
“Please explain?”
“Humans dream all night, lots of little dreams, but they do not remember most of them. Perhaps you have always dreamed but your brain only allows you to remember them when you are sick.”
Spock thought on that for a moment. It was a logical suggestion, but it still did not help him with his current dilemma.
“Of course there must be a reason you are remembering them now. Spock, are you willing to share the contents of your dreams?”
“I am living on a small farm somewhere in the United States when they started. They have continued until I appear to be a fully grown adult human, though lately they have begun to involve Starfleet. I am always myself in the dreams, but I am doing things that I have never done.”
“So they are a series of dreams about the same thing?”
“Incorrect, they are a series of dreams from the same perspective.”
“Your perspective, or someone else’s?”
“Mine, though I have never been to a farm so I do not know where the dreams came from.”
His mother nodded and wore the expression she always did when she was thinking something over. “Spock,” she said at last. “What is your workload like at the moment?”
“My xenolinguistics group has asked to meet twice weekly for the remainder of the semester. I agreed. The advanced astrophysics students I work with are on break for two weeks while the students participate in a practical period on board the Farragot. However, everything else is as it has been for the last six months and three days.”
“No, ashal-veh, I meant are you very busy with your own research and experiments at the moment.”
“Slightly less than usual due to the absence of my astrophysics group.”
“Good, I would like you to think back to those dreams and write detailed summaries of them.”
“For what purpose?”
“There is evidence that dreams in humans are ways for them to work though problems or issues that they have. By looking at the dreams and what occurs within them, we may be able to work out the reason for you having them and therefore fix it. It could be something as simple as your brain attempting to reconcile being on a strange planet.”
Spock thought through her reasoning. Her suggested reason for his dreams seemed flawed given the length of time he had spent on Earth, however he did not mention this to his mother. “That is a reasonable strategy. I shall contact you again on Sunday Earth time for our normal communication.”
“I look forward to it, Spock. I love you, be safe,” his mother said in her usual goodbye.
Spock lifted his hand and wished her goodbye. “Peace and long life, Mother.”
/ / /
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05