If Spock had been prone to think of such things in such terms, he would have thought it funny (if he had been willing to acknowledge such a human thing as humor) that a place so unlike his native Vulcan would most remind him of it. The meditation gardens were lush, greenery in abundance organized along classic Vulcan aesthetic principles of order,
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"James Kirk, there is no requirement for you to leave. This is a social space."
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"The use of the space doesn't necessarily imply a want of company," he said, but he approached casually.
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He inclined his head, invited James to sit with the simple gesture.
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What Spock had said made sense, to the extent being open about such things ever did. But it was in James' nature to desire openness, even if nothing in his life had prepared him to accept it.
"So what do you think of it?" he asked, because it wasn't as if they had a lot in common. Spock had greeted him on the boat, but otherwise they hadn't seen one another since that disastrous evening on the Enterprise. James still wasn't sure how he felt about that, but this Spock was familiar to him in a way the female one had not been. It let him divorce the two in his mind. "The colony, I mean."
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"It is as was expected; the colony is efficiently run, true to the principles of Vulcan society, and reminiscent of Vulcan without illogical sentiment."
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"Illogical sentiment," he repeated. "Guess it matters less to you, anyway. Yours is still there."
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Spock shifted, surveyed the unfamiliar flora. "This, however, is comfort. To rebuild, to protect and perpetuate our culture and people. What do you think of the colony, James?"
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"I think it's exactly that--a comfort," he said. "They'll always be exiles."
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Life was quite precious in all its forms - new life would be the key to re-establishing New Vulcan: not as Vulcan once was but as it would be forever moving forward, remembering without forgetting.
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Then again, pre-Terran Empire had to look sort of like a golden age, to them.
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It was the present, more than anything, that was a keenly felt loss. Mental bonds, ties, communities - so much loss, the details of which were easily obscured when reviewing numbers and facts instead of the toll each Vulcan carried in their mind.
"I am curious about the Vulcan of your universe." And about how it compared to what he had gleaned of the Vulcan in his mirror counterpart's universe.
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Not its people, though who, while not slaves, were nonetheless conquered.
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"A different topic then, one of habitation. This universe is significantly different from your own: have you given thought to what you might do here should it be proven impossible for us all to return to our origin points?"
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"Everyone asks me that," he said. "It's a miracle, on one hand, that I've stayed out of the brig. And on the other I'm supposed to have some plan to stay indefinitely in a world that's I'm told is completely unsuitable for anything I can do. In other words, I've thought about it. I don't have an answer."
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Jim seemed illogically unwilling to view this iteration of himself in any light other than the most negative. But Spock, perhaps because of their prior interactions, had the ability to contrast James Kirk of the then and James Kirk of the now. The human was still his fundamental self - but that expressed itself as adaptability for survival now.
"It is, perhaps, less important that you have an answer as it is that you are considering the question. I do not have an answer for myself, should we be trapped here on a more permanent basis."
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