> A ship without its mooring; After the Storm. [Spock | Uhura | USS Enterprise]
[Spock sat in his quarters, the illumination dimmed, willing his mind to go blank.
He took a centering breath.
There was a restlessness within him, though, that he could no longer quell. He had kept himself occupied in the past several hours, never allowing himself to dwell overlong on the enormity of events which had occurred over the past 24 hours. There had been preparations to be made for the voyage back to earth. Ship repairs to authorize. Reports and logs to submit to the appropriate superiors. It had served to keep him distracted from the troubling thoughts which still had still threatened to overwhelm him.
The others had depended on him to go about his duties. To maintain that impassive calm that reassured them all that normalcy would soon return. Despite the destruction Nero had wrought. Despite his own personal losses. He'd lost his control once on the bridge and had vowed to himself that he never would again. Stoicism came naturally to the half-vulcan. But even he had his limits.
He took another centering breath.
It was not working. His mind was most definitely not a still pond of nothingness, but a roiling seething mess of thoughts he could control even less than a vulcan child was able to.]
He took a centering breath.
There was a restlessness within him, though, that he could no longer quell. He had kept himself occupied in the past several hours, never allowing himself to dwell overlong on the enormity of events which had occurred over the past 24 hours. There had been preparations to be made for the voyage back to earth. Ship repairs to authorize. Reports and logs to submit to the appropriate superiors. It had served to keep him distracted from the troubling thoughts which still had still threatened to overwhelm him.
The others had depended on him to go about his duties. To maintain that impassive calm that reassured them all that normalcy would soon return. Despite the destruction Nero had wrought. Despite his own personal losses. He'd lost his control once on the bridge and had vowed to himself that he never would again. Stoicism came naturally to the half-vulcan. But even he had his limits.
He took another centering breath.
It was not working. His mind was most definitely not a still pond of nothingness, but a roiling seething mess of thoughts he could control even less than a vulcan child was able to.]