Coram Nobis (Star Trek XI, Sofek->Spock)
Written for st_xi_kink request: That older Vulcan boy who Spock beat up? Secretly totally into Spock's big beautiful human eyes and sickened with himself for being so into them. Extreme bonus points for child!Spock calling him out on it. :D
However, given that it's me, it turned out more like The Story of Wee Spock at School, told through Sofek's eyes. The attraction is still definitely there, if that counts for anything (and I plan to do a Kirk/Spock side story for it). My sincere apologies to the anon.
The title is a legal term from Latin, meaning literally "in our presence", usually translated in context as "the error before us", used "to correct a previous error". For example: Korematsu v. United States.
Title: Coram Nobis
Pairing: Sofek->Spock (see above)
Fandom: Star Trek XI (with original timeline elements)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Spock belongs to Kirk. The story belongs to me. Everything else belongs to Paramount.
Coram Nobis
by Renata Lord (snowlight)
The long bones of our ancestors show nothing of their hearts.
Jeanette Winterson
*
Summer is the most beautiful season in this garden. The head-tall adonis flowers are in bloom, vivacious blue mixed with elegant purple. White Romulan moss creeps over the red rocks, pure as snow. When the noonday sun shines down on the shallow pond, the light reflected off the surface is almost blinding.
It is still early morning, however, and Sofek is wanting to study the singing rhythm of the mahaduri fish. These are curious creatures: the males turn a flamboyant golden-red when the mating season comes and sing songs to the female as a courtship ritual through an entire night. The females should be replying back within a few hours now. So Sofek waits.
Zoology interests have their downsides. Vulcans are reputed to have excellent patience, but they are not particularly well-equipped to deal with outright boredom. After a while Sofek digs out his Vermillion-Class information exchange transmitter and turns it on, determined to browse through academy student news to pass his time.
[New Messages: 87]
Sofek mildly wonders if the students are arguing against the newest tuition raise again, but it turns out to be something far more unusual. Judging from the headings, there is one individual who had both the stupidity and audacity to decline Academy admission this year. From there, people go into polite but heated debates about the comparative strengths and weaknesses of the VSA and Starfleet Academy on Earth.
He doesn't think much of it. However, just as he clicks a random messages open, before he even reads the full text on the transmitter screen, a name floats up in his consciousness like a speckle of light.
He feels his lips moving to form that sound.
"Spock."
The last time they had spoken, it was in this very garden, was it not? Three years ago, another summer. Sands from the Forge in his palm. Desperate love songs of the mahaduri, under the cold, brilliant stars.
Come think of it, how long ago did he first hear that name?
Ten years?
Twelve?
*
It had started with a simple glance, in an ill-lit corridor.
----Year 2237
The Shi'Kahr School
Shi'Kahr, Vulcan----
Sofek took stock of the boy before him: Young. Almost too young to be in this school, and this was accentuated by a uniform that seemed too big no matter what. On top of that, something about the boy wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the eyes. They betrayed too much, including fear.
The situation was illogical. After all they were at one of the most prestigious preparatory schools on the entire planet and alma mater of countless Vulcan elites, both past and future. To be admitted at such a young age, this boy must have been from a high-ranking family. It was puzzling, how the kid wasn't brought up properly.
He took a step forward. The boy seemed to freeze before him.
"Greetings, stranger. I am Sofek, son of Sevok," he made a formal self-introduction along with the ta'al.
The boy said nothing but continued to stare at him with those huge, dark eyes. He found himself at a loss and tried to pat the boy on the shoulder.
and the boy ran. Damned fast too, for a little one like him. Recalling that he was not expected at his station for another half an hour, Sofek only had a moment's hesitation before he took the invitation to a corridor chase.
"Hey, I have no intention of hurting"
The boy slipped from his fingers only to run by an office door that opened unexpectedly, with a tall grown man stepping out in front of him.
"Spock," the man said evenly and the boy froze again as if on cue. Sofek recognized him as Ambassador Sarek, whose return from Earth after the signing of an important trade coordination agreement was reported in the news recently. He had also heard the name mentioned during dinnertime conversations between his parents, although in what context he could not recall.
The man looked down at the boy and then turned towards him, smiling faintly.
"Greetings, youngling. You are the son of Sevok, are you not?"
"Yessir," he wondered if he was in any trouble but decided that was improbable, if not impossible. "If I may inquire…how are you acquainted with my father, sir?"
"I have known your father since our days in the Vulcan Science Academy together," the Ambassador appeared somewhat pleased at the question. He tugged at the boy lightly, as if to ease him into the environment. "I am the one called Sarek. This is my son, Spock."
Sofek bowed in the direction of the door, as was customary for a youngster in the presence of an adult for the first time. He could feel both father and son's eyes on him, and somehow it was the boy-Spock-who made him uneasy.
"I, Sofek, son of Sevok, submit myself before you. May your days be long and peaceful."
Sarek acknowledged his greeting with a simple nod: "It is my hope that the sons shall take after their fathers, young Sofek. Spock was born here in Shi'Kahr but had lived with me on Earth for the past few years; he is still unaccustomed to much of our Vulcan ways despite my best efforts at acculturation. I am aware that much of the instruction in the school is conducted in isolation, but you shall find me grateful if you can show Spock the proper ways when the occasion arises."
"Yes, of course, sir," he answered automatically and bowed again.
Across from him, the boy still regarded him cautiously from afar.
*
The sons did not take after their fathers.
The fault did not lie with Sofek, for Spock had frustrated all but most seasoned instructors in the beginning. A child at the age of five, even a Vulcan one, could feel certain distress at a drastic rupture of surrounding environments.
Spock was certainly intelligent, that was not the problem. His speech also met with approval, for apparently his spoken Vulcan language was flawless (as in: undiluted by the dangerous permutations heard on the streets of Shi'Kahr). Yet for all that he could become, Spock remained utterly alien by holding himself steadfastly apart from everybody else. Not in the dignified Vulcan way that indicated a wish for personal space, but…there was fear, Sofek was certain of it.
That hypothesis was confirmed when he caught Spock hiding in a corner during lunch time, hugging himself as if he was cold even though the temperature at the school facilities is always set to the optimal level for Vulcan physiology.
He gave a polite cough at the sight. Spock raised his head from his knees, looking at him with those human eyes again. It made him slightly alarmed and he did not like it.
"If you are experiencing health issues, you should make contact with medical personnel," he advised pointedly.
Spock put his head again down and ignored him. Sofek walked away without looking back.
A small episode. Nothing that was his concern. Yet that night Sofek remembered to ask his father at the dinner table about Spock. How could the son of an ambassador be so misplaced amongst his own people?
Then he learned the cold truth, and it somehow made the food in his mouth go suddenly bland: Spock was the unfortunate but necessary product of Ambassador Sarek's union with an earth woman. "The ancient blood is thinned in that child's veins," his father said solemnly, "but I do hope that his father's natural gifts will enable him to overcome the…handicap."
Sofek bit his lips. In the typical fashion of a Vulcan diplomat, the Ambassador did not lie, nor did he offer the complete truth. And Spock…in all this time, Spock had said nothing still. Not a word.
*
"Why did you not inform me of your condition?"
He cornered Spock the next day. Same time, same place. Spock (no, the half-human boy, he told himself) looked nonplussed for a moment. It was a pathetic sight, really, but at least now Sofek could tell Spock responded to him. Encouraged, he followed it up with a sort of peace offering. He was raised right like that.
"I do not intend on telling the others."
Finally the boy opened his mouth and said, "Your intentions remain your own."
It was authentic Vulcan speech, Sofek had to give him that. He was told that unlike Vulcan children, young Earth children tended to speak in a desultory and illogical manner. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all, even though he was still hugging himself in the corner like it was too cold.
"Well said. Nevertheless, I did pledge to the Ambassador, and a Vulcan stays true to his words."
Spock stood up in front of him, and for a second the child didn't look so young and vulnerable anymore. There was such a fierce light in those dark eyes, pure as the rising dawn.
"I know perfectly well what a Vulcan does."
Yes, Sofek thought to himself as he watched the child leaving. I'm sure you do.
*
TBC
However, given that it's me, it turned out more like The Story of Wee Spock at School, told through Sofek's eyes. The attraction is still definitely there, if that counts for anything (and I plan to do a Kirk/Spock side story for it). My sincere apologies to the anon.
The title is a legal term from Latin, meaning literally "in our presence", usually translated in context as "the error before us", used "to correct a previous error". For example: Korematsu v. United States.
Title: Coram Nobis
Pairing: Sofek->Spock (see above)
Fandom: Star Trek XI (with original timeline elements)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Spock belongs to Kirk. The story belongs to me. Everything else belongs to Paramount.
Coram Nobis
by Renata Lord (snowlight)
The long bones of our ancestors show nothing of their hearts.
Jeanette Winterson
*
Summer is the most beautiful season in this garden. The head-tall adonis flowers are in bloom, vivacious blue mixed with elegant purple. White Romulan moss creeps over the red rocks, pure as snow. When the noonday sun shines down on the shallow pond, the light reflected off the surface is almost blinding.
It is still early morning, however, and Sofek is wanting to study the singing rhythm of the mahaduri fish. These are curious creatures: the males turn a flamboyant golden-red when the mating season comes and sing songs to the female as a courtship ritual through an entire night. The females should be replying back within a few hours now. So Sofek waits.
Zoology interests have their downsides. Vulcans are reputed to have excellent patience, but they are not particularly well-equipped to deal with outright boredom. After a while Sofek digs out his Vermillion-Class information exchange transmitter and turns it on, determined to browse through academy student news to pass his time.
[New Messages: 87]
Sofek mildly wonders if the students are arguing against the newest tuition raise again, but it turns out to be something far more unusual. Judging from the headings, there is one individual who had both the stupidity and audacity to decline Academy admission this year. From there, people go into polite but heated debates about the comparative strengths and weaknesses of the VSA and Starfleet Academy on Earth.
He doesn't think much of it. However, just as he clicks a random messages open, before he even reads the full text on the transmitter screen, a name floats up in his consciousness like a speckle of light.
He feels his lips moving to form that sound.
"Spock."
The last time they had spoken, it was in this very garden, was it not? Three years ago, another summer. Sands from the Forge in his palm. Desperate love songs of the mahaduri, under the cold, brilliant stars.
Come think of it, how long ago did he first hear that name?
Ten years?
Twelve?
*
It had started with a simple glance, in an ill-lit corridor.
----Year 2237
The Shi'Kahr School
Shi'Kahr, Vulcan----
Sofek took stock of the boy before him: Young. Almost too young to be in this school, and this was accentuated by a uniform that seemed too big no matter what. On top of that, something about the boy wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the eyes. They betrayed too much, including fear.
The situation was illogical. After all they were at one of the most prestigious preparatory schools on the entire planet and alma mater of countless Vulcan elites, both past and future. To be admitted at such a young age, this boy must have been from a high-ranking family. It was puzzling, how the kid wasn't brought up properly.
He took a step forward. The boy seemed to freeze before him.
"Greetings, stranger. I am Sofek, son of Sevok," he made a formal self-introduction along with the ta'al.
The boy said nothing but continued to stare at him with those huge, dark eyes. He found himself at a loss and tried to pat the boy on the shoulder.
and the boy ran. Damned fast too, for a little one like him. Recalling that he was not expected at his station for another half an hour, Sofek only had a moment's hesitation before he took the invitation to a corridor chase.
"Hey, I have no intention of hurting"
The boy slipped from his fingers only to run by an office door that opened unexpectedly, with a tall grown man stepping out in front of him.
"Spock," the man said evenly and the boy froze again as if on cue. Sofek recognized him as Ambassador Sarek, whose return from Earth after the signing of an important trade coordination agreement was reported in the news recently. He had also heard the name mentioned during dinnertime conversations between his parents, although in what context he could not recall.
The man looked down at the boy and then turned towards him, smiling faintly.
"Greetings, youngling. You are the son of Sevok, are you not?"
"Yessir," he wondered if he was in any trouble but decided that was improbable, if not impossible. "If I may inquire…how are you acquainted with my father, sir?"
"I have known your father since our days in the Vulcan Science Academy together," the Ambassador appeared somewhat pleased at the question. He tugged at the boy lightly, as if to ease him into the environment. "I am the one called Sarek. This is my son, Spock."
Sofek bowed in the direction of the door, as was customary for a youngster in the presence of an adult for the first time. He could feel both father and son's eyes on him, and somehow it was the boy-Spock-who made him uneasy.
"I, Sofek, son of Sevok, submit myself before you. May your days be long and peaceful."
Sarek acknowledged his greeting with a simple nod: "It is my hope that the sons shall take after their fathers, young Sofek. Spock was born here in Shi'Kahr but had lived with me on Earth for the past few years; he is still unaccustomed to much of our Vulcan ways despite my best efforts at acculturation. I am aware that much of the instruction in the school is conducted in isolation, but you shall find me grateful if you can show Spock the proper ways when the occasion arises."
"Yes, of course, sir," he answered automatically and bowed again.
Across from him, the boy still regarded him cautiously from afar.
*
The sons did not take after their fathers.
The fault did not lie with Sofek, for Spock had frustrated all but most seasoned instructors in the beginning. A child at the age of five, even a Vulcan one, could feel certain distress at a drastic rupture of surrounding environments.
Spock was certainly intelligent, that was not the problem. His speech also met with approval, for apparently his spoken Vulcan language was flawless (as in: undiluted by the dangerous permutations heard on the streets of Shi'Kahr). Yet for all that he could become, Spock remained utterly alien by holding himself steadfastly apart from everybody else. Not in the dignified Vulcan way that indicated a wish for personal space, but…there was fear, Sofek was certain of it.
That hypothesis was confirmed when he caught Spock hiding in a corner during lunch time, hugging himself as if he was cold even though the temperature at the school facilities is always set to the optimal level for Vulcan physiology.
He gave a polite cough at the sight. Spock raised his head from his knees, looking at him with those human eyes again. It made him slightly alarmed and he did not like it.
"If you are experiencing health issues, you should make contact with medical personnel," he advised pointedly.
Spock put his head again down and ignored him. Sofek walked away without looking back.
A small episode. Nothing that was his concern. Yet that night Sofek remembered to ask his father at the dinner table about Spock. How could the son of an ambassador be so misplaced amongst his own people?
Then he learned the cold truth, and it somehow made the food in his mouth go suddenly bland: Spock was the unfortunate but necessary product of Ambassador Sarek's union with an earth woman. "The ancient blood is thinned in that child's veins," his father said solemnly, "but I do hope that his father's natural gifts will enable him to overcome the…handicap."
Sofek bit his lips. In the typical fashion of a Vulcan diplomat, the Ambassador did not lie, nor did he offer the complete truth. And Spock…in all this time, Spock had said nothing still. Not a word.
*
"Why did you not inform me of your condition?"
He cornered Spock the next day. Same time, same place. Spock (no, the half-human boy, he told himself) looked nonplussed for a moment. It was a pathetic sight, really, but at least now Sofek could tell Spock responded to him. Encouraged, he followed it up with a sort of peace offering. He was raised right like that.
"I do not intend on telling the others."
Finally the boy opened his mouth and said, "Your intentions remain your own."
It was authentic Vulcan speech, Sofek had to give him that. He was told that unlike Vulcan children, young Earth children tended to speak in a desultory and illogical manner. Maybe there was hope for the boy after all, even though he was still hugging himself in the corner like it was too cold.
"Well said. Nevertheless, I did pledge to the Ambassador, and a Vulcan stays true to his words."
Spock stood up in front of him, and for a second the child didn't look so young and vulnerable anymore. There was such a fierce light in those dark eyes, pure as the rising dawn.
"I know perfectly well what a Vulcan does."
Yes, Sofek thought to himself as he watched the child leaving. I'm sure you do.
*
TBC