Fic: Clouds of Nameless Trouble
Title: Clouds of Nameless Trouble
Author: sunriseinspace
Character(s): Spock / Uhura, Jim Kirk / Leonard McCoy (implied), Spock Prime
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing about Star Trek (2009), its characters or plotlines, including any recognizable dialogue.
Summary: Hands tied, with knowledge of things that may or may not come to pass, he tries to help without harming, all while wondering if it’s enough.
A/N: Blargh... I’ve been sitting on this for ages, trying to decide if it was worth letting other people see, and figured I’d finally get off my ass and post it, for better or worse. I rebooted (kinda) the TOS episode For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky. Not really, but I do use it and it may help to know the basic story behind the episode. (Haven’t seen it yet, myself, but Memory-Alpha is my best friend.)
Also: OMG, Spock POV - what the hell was I thinking? /hides in the corner
+
“Spock!”
He turns at the call and feels one eyebrow twitch in surprise. He had not known the Ambassador was visiting the Starbase when they docked, else he would have made an attempt to contact the elder Vulcan. To be approached so suddenly on a busy thoroughfare so close to when the Enterprise is set to depart is, at the least, unexpected. Surely, there would have been a better time to--
“Forgive me. Pressing matters have recently come to my attention, preventing my speaking to you sooner.”
Age has carved its way deeper into his counterpart’s face, but Spock still feels that curious twist in his stomach as he stares into the Elder’s eyes. For the situation to require a rushed meeting in a public place, matters must be very pressing indeed, and he can’t quite quell a twinge of concern.
“I hope the colony isn’t--"
“No, the planet’s doing fine, as I’m sure our father has reported. Truthfully, the matter requiring my attention was a personal one, though no less important.”
Though marginally reassured by the Ambassador’s words, Spock’s concern does not entirely dissipate. He studies his counterpart, trying for some reason for the worry he feels, not at all comforted by the sight of deep indecisiveness and concern in the other’s eyes.
“If there is any way I may be of service to you,” he offers, seeking an opening.
“You’ve recently visited a planet designated Beta XII-A.” Spock inclines his head at the statement. The Ambassador nods in response and reaches into a pocket. “You may find this to be of use to you, in the near future. Do not share it with anyone before then, nor should you have a need to use the information contained within it until absolutely necessary,” he explains, handing over a datachip, his eyes serious and intense, though there’s no change in his countenance.
Spock folds his hands behind his back, one thumb pressed against the ‘chip’s smooth surface. “May I inquire as to when the data may prove useful?”
“When you find that the world is hollow and one might touch the sky.”
The younger feels an eyebrow crawl toward his hairline at the cryptic response and sees the ghost of a smile around the elder’s mouth. Spock draws breath to comment on the enigmatic clue when a chime rings over the station’s comm system, announcing the Enterprise’s pending departure. The Ambassador raises a hand in his customary farewell.
“May you find luck in your endeavors,” his counterpart offers and Spock bows his head in recognition before turning to return to his ship.
The datachip seems oddly heavy in his hand as he takes his place on the Bridge.
+
Three weeks later, while reviewing his research for a meeting with the Federation admiralty regarding New Vulcan’s growth, the Ambassador notices a message on his console. With an odd sense of foreboding déjà vu, he learns of the Enterprise’s request for a replacement Chief Medical Officer and he knows.
His heart aches for his old friends and his new and he hopes he’s done enough.
+
The diminished light in Jim’s blue eyes is somehow painful to behold, despite his knowledge that death is part of one’s existence, unavoidable and non-negotiable no matter one’s rank. Still, the quiet dismay in the Captain’s demeanor is distracting for reasons he can’t quite fathom.
He brushes off Nyota’s questions with a quiet promise to explain when he’s able, then holds her through the night after she delivers the Captain’s request to Headquarters. He listens as she rails against McCoy’s diagnosis and Jim’s grief (“It’s just not fair!”), but doesn’t offer his own opinion because the memory of Jim’s dulled blue eyes has somehow been joined by the ancient sadness in his counterpart’s gaze and he’s not quite sure what to make of it.
Days pass slowly, a surreal sort of haze making everything feel vague, even to him. He knows, logically, that each day is no longer than the one before it, but logic seems to hold little sway over the ship now. The Captain’s quiet and subdued while Doctor McCoy continues on as if nothing is any different, as if he hasn’t had a death sentence placed on his head. And the nights seem to last forever as Spock tries to meditate, to distract himself with the feel of Nyota’s skin, to sleep, to do anything other than dwell on McCoy’s fate and try fruitlessly to find a cure for the incurable.
He only has a year.
He completely forgets about the datachip until they’re trying to figure out how to reroute the asteroid-ship Yonada. It’s a passing comment, something he only half-hears and doesn’t even remember until he and Jim have been expelled from the Yonada, that reminds him. Jim’s ranting and raving about leaving McCoy behind, amidst trying to reason out a solution, muttering under his breath and scowling at the floor as he paces around Spock’s cabin.
“--prove their world is hollow,” the Captain mutters and Spock’s head shoots up, uncontrolled surprise flashing across his face.
“I beg your pardon, Captain?”
“Huh?” Kirk looks up, eyes blank and face troubled, as he tries to switch gears.
But already Spock remembers the comment the man on Yonada had made and he finds himself digging through the stack of PADDs and papers on the edge of his desk to find the datachip. He feels the smoothness of it under his fingers the same time the console lights up with Uhura’s face.
“Sir, there’s an incoming message from the Yonada. It’s Doctor McCoy.”
As Jim keys up the message, Spock discreetly inserts the datachip in a PADD, calling up the contents. It’s a simple message, merely a hint.
File A37, Database FMF. Use the book of the Oracle.
It’s completely cryptic but there’s no time to decipher it as McCoy collapses on the screen and Jim yelps as the connection is cut.
“Dammit, Bones!” Jim snarls, turning to head out of Spock’s quarters at a run, leaving Spock no choice but to follow or be left behind.
Things blur again, this time due to speed and concentration instead of aimlessness, but he’s got enough presence of mind to remember the Ambassador’s hint and the results that hint yields...
+
He wonders if his actions were entirely necessary, if his younger self would still have found the Fabrini’s medical files without his help, but he consoles himself with the thought that nothing was left to chance. He plays the message on his screen again, smiling slightly at the combined accusation and gratitude that is so completely this young Jim Kirk. He doesn’t know how Jim came to suspect his involvement, but he decides it doesn’t really matter.
It’s enough to see the laughter in Jim’s eyes.
It’s enough to know McCoy’s still where he belongs, on the Enterprise, keeping the Captain and crew safe.
It’s enough to hope that maybe, with his help, they’ll find all the happiness that eluded them in his timeline.
Maybe.
Should I post this on kirk_mccoy ? I don't even know...
Author: sunriseinspace
Character(s): Spock / Uhura, Jim Kirk / Leonard McCoy (implied), Spock Prime
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing about Star Trek (2009), its characters or plotlines, including any recognizable dialogue.
Summary: Hands tied, with knowledge of things that may or may not come to pass, he tries to help without harming, all while wondering if it’s enough.
A/N: Blargh... I’ve been sitting on this for ages, trying to decide if it was worth letting other people see, and figured I’d finally get off my ass and post it, for better or worse. I rebooted (kinda) the TOS episode For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky. Not really, but I do use it and it may help to know the basic story behind the episode. (Haven’t seen it yet, myself, but Memory-Alpha is my best friend.)
Also: OMG, Spock POV - what the hell was I thinking? /hides in the corner
+
“Spock!”
He turns at the call and feels one eyebrow twitch in surprise. He had not known the Ambassador was visiting the Starbase when they docked, else he would have made an attempt to contact the elder Vulcan. To be approached so suddenly on a busy thoroughfare so close to when the Enterprise is set to depart is, at the least, unexpected. Surely, there would have been a better time to--
“Forgive me. Pressing matters have recently come to my attention, preventing my speaking to you sooner.”
Age has carved its way deeper into his counterpart’s face, but Spock still feels that curious twist in his stomach as he stares into the Elder’s eyes. For the situation to require a rushed meeting in a public place, matters must be very pressing indeed, and he can’t quite quell a twinge of concern.
“I hope the colony isn’t--"
“No, the planet’s doing fine, as I’m sure our father has reported. Truthfully, the matter requiring my attention was a personal one, though no less important.”
Though marginally reassured by the Ambassador’s words, Spock’s concern does not entirely dissipate. He studies his counterpart, trying for some reason for the worry he feels, not at all comforted by the sight of deep indecisiveness and concern in the other’s eyes.
“If there is any way I may be of service to you,” he offers, seeking an opening.
“You’ve recently visited a planet designated Beta XII-A.” Spock inclines his head at the statement. The Ambassador nods in response and reaches into a pocket. “You may find this to be of use to you, in the near future. Do not share it with anyone before then, nor should you have a need to use the information contained within it until absolutely necessary,” he explains, handing over a datachip, his eyes serious and intense, though there’s no change in his countenance.
Spock folds his hands behind his back, one thumb pressed against the ‘chip’s smooth surface. “May I inquire as to when the data may prove useful?”
“When you find that the world is hollow and one might touch the sky.”
The younger feels an eyebrow crawl toward his hairline at the cryptic response and sees the ghost of a smile around the elder’s mouth. Spock draws breath to comment on the enigmatic clue when a chime rings over the station’s comm system, announcing the Enterprise’s pending departure. The Ambassador raises a hand in his customary farewell.
“May you find luck in your endeavors,” his counterpart offers and Spock bows his head in recognition before turning to return to his ship.
The datachip seems oddly heavy in his hand as he takes his place on the Bridge.
+
Three weeks later, while reviewing his research for a meeting with the Federation admiralty regarding New Vulcan’s growth, the Ambassador notices a message on his console. With an odd sense of foreboding déjà vu, he learns of the Enterprise’s request for a replacement Chief Medical Officer and he knows.
His heart aches for his old friends and his new and he hopes he’s done enough.
+
The diminished light in Jim’s blue eyes is somehow painful to behold, despite his knowledge that death is part of one’s existence, unavoidable and non-negotiable no matter one’s rank. Still, the quiet dismay in the Captain’s demeanor is distracting for reasons he can’t quite fathom.
He brushes off Nyota’s questions with a quiet promise to explain when he’s able, then holds her through the night after she delivers the Captain’s request to Headquarters. He listens as she rails against McCoy’s diagnosis and Jim’s grief (“It’s just not fair!”), but doesn’t offer his own opinion because the memory of Jim’s dulled blue eyes has somehow been joined by the ancient sadness in his counterpart’s gaze and he’s not quite sure what to make of it.
Days pass slowly, a surreal sort of haze making everything feel vague, even to him. He knows, logically, that each day is no longer than the one before it, but logic seems to hold little sway over the ship now. The Captain’s quiet and subdued while Doctor McCoy continues on as if nothing is any different, as if he hasn’t had a death sentence placed on his head. And the nights seem to last forever as Spock tries to meditate, to distract himself with the feel of Nyota’s skin, to sleep, to do anything other than dwell on McCoy’s fate and try fruitlessly to find a cure for the incurable.
He only has a year.
He completely forgets about the datachip until they’re trying to figure out how to reroute the asteroid-ship Yonada. It’s a passing comment, something he only half-hears and doesn’t even remember until he and Jim have been expelled from the Yonada, that reminds him. Jim’s ranting and raving about leaving McCoy behind, amidst trying to reason out a solution, muttering under his breath and scowling at the floor as he paces around Spock’s cabin.
“--prove their world is hollow,” the Captain mutters and Spock’s head shoots up, uncontrolled surprise flashing across his face.
“I beg your pardon, Captain?”
“Huh?” Kirk looks up, eyes blank and face troubled, as he tries to switch gears.
But already Spock remembers the comment the man on Yonada had made and he finds himself digging through the stack of PADDs and papers on the edge of his desk to find the datachip. He feels the smoothness of it under his fingers the same time the console lights up with Uhura’s face.
“Sir, there’s an incoming message from the Yonada. It’s Doctor McCoy.”
As Jim keys up the message, Spock discreetly inserts the datachip in a PADD, calling up the contents. It’s a simple message, merely a hint.
File A37, Database FMF. Use the book of the Oracle.
It’s completely cryptic but there’s no time to decipher it as McCoy collapses on the screen and Jim yelps as the connection is cut.
“Dammit, Bones!” Jim snarls, turning to head out of Spock’s quarters at a run, leaving Spock no choice but to follow or be left behind.
Things blur again, this time due to speed and concentration instead of aimlessness, but he’s got enough presence of mind to remember the Ambassador’s hint and the results that hint yields...
+
He wonders if his actions were entirely necessary, if his younger self would still have found the Fabrini’s medical files without his help, but he consoles himself with the thought that nothing was left to chance. He plays the message on his screen again, smiling slightly at the combined accusation and gratitude that is so completely this young Jim Kirk. He doesn’t know how Jim came to suspect his involvement, but he decides it doesn’t really matter.
It’s enough to see the laughter in Jim’s eyes.
It’s enough to know McCoy’s still where he belongs, on the Enterprise, keeping the Captain and crew safe.
It’s enough to hope that maybe, with his help, they’ll find all the happiness that eluded them in his timeline.
Maybe.
Should I post this on kirk_mccoy ? I don't even know...