FIC: Divergence 11/?
Title: Divergence
Rating: Teen (violence, language, adult themes)
Pairing: pre-slash nu!K/S, kid!K/S
Cast: ensemble, plus Pike, W. Kirk, A. Grayson, and nu!versions of TOS random crew
Keywords: long multi-part fic, kid!Spock, kid!Kirk, time travel, badass!crew, epic friendship
Notes: as a fill for this plotty PROMPT from the kink meme.... I kind of hinted at Pike/Winona in this.. *shrug*
Summary: Kirk and McCoy are finally free from Starfleet detention due to the efforts of Pike and Winona, and are ready to rejoin the Enterprise. Meanwhile aboard, Spock holds an executive meeting regarding tracking down the Narada.
BETA status - jademac2442 -- who has been absolutely awesome about it
back to: part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten /
USS Enterprise, en route to Earth, year 2246
The doors to the Main Briefing Room opened with a hiss, announcing the arrival of Hannity from Operations who gave her a brief shy smile before finding a seat near the back wall. Looking around the room, Uhura realized that everyone present had been with the Enterprise on its maiden mission to Vulcan. Of course, the truth regarding Nero’s incursion, the Red Matter device, all of those details were still classified, and except for high-ranking members of Starfleet and the Vulcan High Council, everyone else had been given a half-truth. This crew was among those who knew what really happened having witnessed it firsthand.
The doors slid opened with a soft hiss and Spock stepped in, his dark eyes taking in the room before he strode around the conference table and gracefully slid into his seat at the head of the table, making it seem like one smooth continuous movement. ‘Ensign Chekov, Commander Scott.’ Spock said, ‘I understand you have a plan for tracking the Narada.’
Uhura turned her attention to Chekov and Scotty, who were conversing in rapid fire whispers.
‘Aye, Commander,’ The Scotsman said, clearing his throat, ‘Just a wee idea Chekov and I been thinking up - with a little help from Lieutenant Uhura there.’ He gave her a nod and a smile, which she returned.
‘So we know that the Narada spent essentially twenty-five years,’ Scotty raised his eyebrows dramatically, looking around the table, ‘-doing nothing except scanning for an electric storm in space, or rather, any subspace anomalies that might be a temporal disturbance.’
‘The Romulan vessel also searched subspace transmission frequencies,’ Chekov said, his accent sharpening the words, ‘Including media transmissions and even set their astrometric sensors for specific warp signatures.’
‘Aye, warp signatures that are specific to future vessels. I mean, according to the report, everything they did was in anticipation of tracking down that ship with the Red Matter device onboard - which is fantastic because that’s going to be our angle.’ The Scottish man beamed happily, settling back in his chair.
Spock tilted his head, a perplexed look upon his face, ‘Please explain this… angle.’
‘Well,’ Chekov began, ‘We can mimic the subspace transmission frequencies used by the Vulcan Science Academy in the twenty-fourth century.’
Uhura leaned forwards on the conference table and turned to look at Spock, ‘I’ve already encoded a series of messages and checked that out, sir - the bandwidth they’re speaking of is low and not currently in use by any known organization.’
‘Yes, the subspace bandwidth is very specific.’
‘Aye, and there’s also something they do in the future, that we don’t do.’
Spock raised an eyebrow, ‘Mr. Scott, I am fully versed on all of the available information, both public and classified - to what do you refer?’
The Chief of Engineered grinned, ‘Subspace oscillation.’
‘Da, they cause minor gravimetric vibrations - which could signify the stabilization of temporal rifts.’
Spock nodded, ‘I see - thereby hinting at the effects of a singularity.’
Chekov pulled out his PADD and slid it to the Vulcan across the table. Uhura watched Spock’s dark head and pointy ears bend over the display, brows furrowed in concentration.
‘The Romulans’ sensors will be definitely be attuned to the oscillations.’
‘Aye, which means if we can create something weird enough, we send it out there, and those Romulans are gonna come running. Subspace disruptions could be nothing, but since they’re looking for anomalies, well...’
‘I see. You propose to lure the Narada into initiating contact with the Enterprise through simultaneous mimicry of a space anomaly and subspace transmissions on bandwidths used only in the twenty-fourth century…’ Spock paused to consider the possibility, head tilting as his eyes flicking to the glossy table top surface and became unfocused; Uhura could almost see those gears spinning, faster and faster, as he mulled over their ideas. ‘An interesting proposal…’
‘No guarantee for ya, sir, but it’s worth a bang. The only other option is go trailing after them which will take forever, and we just haven’t got the manpower, Commander.’
Spock was silent, his eyes scanning the information given to him. Finally, he nodded, ‘Do it.’
‘Already started,’ Scotty replied cheerfully with a wry grin that was infectious. Uhura found herself smiling despite the circumstances.
‘Good. Then I shall expect a report once you have made the necessary preparations and are ready for a trial. However, even with the modifications to the deflector dish, Commander Scott, I do still expect the ship to be battle ready.’
‘Aye sir!’ With an emphatic nod, the Chief Engineer stood and quickly rushed out of the room, Chekov following close at his heels already rattling away in jargon.
--------
Planet-side: Earth, San Francisco City, year 2246
‘How much longer?’
‘Jim you’ve got your own watch - use it!’
‘Yeah, ah, about that - I think mine’s broken.’
‘Oh for -! We got less than ten minutes.’
Besides him, Winona Kirk broke out into a smirk, silently laughing as she threw her head back against the upholstery. Christopher Pike gave her a covert sideways glance, finding absolutely nothing funny in the exchange they were being forced to suffer through and wondered again why she was here. After losing the remaining auto-police units, and whatever law enforcement Starfleet had managed to muster together in the midst of all that confusion, they had dumped Winona’s stolen hovercar and taken Jim’s, which apparently had “more leg-room.”
‘I don’t mean to interrupt, gentleman, but if you’re beaming out soon, shouldn’t we be getting off the street?’ Christopher Pike raised his eyebrows as the two men turned and looked at him, as if surprised to see him in the back seat of the hovercar. He gestured for them to take a left. ‘Here, turn into here.’
‘What - here?’ The young man said in confusion even as he obeyed and steered the transport into a random laneway in the middle of the San Francisco metropolis.
Pike nodded, ‘Keep going till the end - it leads to a park.’
Finally, the hovercar stopped just inside of the gates of the park leading the Xenoculture Museum. Getting out of the vehicle, Pike looked around. It was a late Friday night and this area was quiet. Most people were further down the district, towards the entertainment quarters. He heard the dull sonic roar of impulse engines and looked up, catching the warning lights of a commercial shuttle passing them overhead and gaining altitude quickly as it headed for the Docking Stations stationed over the Pacific. The two men busied themselves dusting off. The young doctor opened the collar of his stolen uniform jacket and looked vaguely ill.
‘So you have a ship in orbit then?’ Winona said.
Pike frowned, a spike of distinct discomfort shooting through him at the sight of the two of them, “Jim” and Winona Kirk, standing there together. ‘Winona, what are you doing here?’
The older woman glanced at him and gave him a dismissive arch of her eyebrow. Pike stiffened. He knew that a look, it was a “shut the fuck up and I’ll tell you later when it’s okay to talk” look. Dammit. So he wasn’t the only one running around doing good old Admiral Archer’s bidding. Vaguely he wondered what the old coot had Winona doing, and if she knew what he knew - or, he thought staring at her, perhaps she knew more than he did, she was a Commodore after all.
‘Just a small one,’ the one named Jim said with a smirk, staring up at the sky like he’ll be able to see it any moment now.
‘A small cloaked vessel? Just how far into the future are we talking here?’ Pike asked without thinking, piqued by his own curiosity, ‘As far as I’m aware, and I know a lot of things people don’t know, cloaking devices are still theoretical if only due to power requirements and the issue of particle radiation.’
‘Not that the Klingons particularly care.’ Winona added dryly sotto voce.
‘Commander Pike,’ Jim shot him a bemused smile, ‘You didn’t honestly just ask me that did you?’
He smiled briefly at his slip, ‘No I guess I didn’t.’
This got him a wide smile, ‘We’ll meet again sir,’ Jim’s smile shifted when his eyes flicked to Winona, ‘-ma’am.’
Doctor McCoy covered his eyes with a grimace, ‘Shut up will ya and stop tempting fate!’
‘Hey, I’m the Captain, let me captain, okay?’
Pike turned away and shook his head in astonishment; Starfleet must have been real down on their recruiting quota for the month to have gotten them two.
Winona cleared her throat, ‘Gentlemen, I have something for you.’
Unfastening the front of her hoverbike jacket, the Commodore reached inside and took out a slender datapad that Pike recognized as being top-of-the-line, the latest model released by the Department of Science. There was a crack in the screen, no doubt due to some shock when she had been forced to dive away from phaser fire that got too close, but its memory would still be extractable. ‘I know you can’t reveal the exact details of your mission, if it’s anything related to what I think it is you’ll need this.’
‘This is…?’ Jim looked at the woman questioningly but took the damaged PADD.
‘This is everything we’ve got - telemetry readings, logs, anything at all that we’ve collected on the Unidentified Vessel that’s been showing all over the place.’ Winona glanced back at Pike with a slight nod, ‘I’m guessing here, but I think you know what to do with this.’
Pike bit down hard on the immediate questions he had regarding how the hell Winona got her hands on that information, and if she broke any Starfleet regulations doing it. No matter how much he sometimes disagreed with her methods, she had been a hell of a TA back in his cadet days - and she did outrank him.
‘Sierra Outposts I and II last picked them up on a course trajectory that should bring them past Deneva. That was two days ago. Last few months they’ve been picked up by various starbases and outposts along the Neutral Zone.’ Winona fixed both young men with her solemn gaze, ‘Unfortunately, according to the Intelligence network, it’s not just us - the Romulans have been taking notice and it’s not good.’
Pike took a breath and felt a slight shiver run down his spine at her words. Though everything in the Academy carried on as normal, the last few months saw an unprecedented amount of cadet graduations ahead of schedule. While it wasn’t anomalous as Starfleet did offer early graduation to individuals or groups who consistently outperformed their peers, he knew that it was Starfleet Tactical trying to make subtle preparations for a possible outbreak of war.
‘Just two weeks ago, our sensors picked up distortions along the Romulan edge of the Neutral Zone,’ He paused, to give them a chance to take in the information, ‘Cloaked vessels - a fleet of perhaps a dozen or more. Unfortunately, we don’t want to reveal to the Romulans that our sensors can pick them up now, so it’s a wait-and-see.’
‘The Romulans haven’t had contact with this vessel, have they?’ Jim asked, looking concerned.
‘Not as far as we know. The Romulans seem to be as worried as we are.’ He paused, not wanting to ask.
Pike wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Winona had no such aversions.
She crossed her arms, frowning. ‘Is this going to be a problem?’
Jim took a deep breath and ran a nervous hand through his hair, ‘Well, maybe.’
‘Maybe?’ She said, her voice raising a full octave.
Jim gave them a conflicted look and then forcibly averted his eyes, ‘Commander, Commodore, by whatever means possible, do not allow any Federation ships or outposts to engage the Unidentified Vessel - I promise you it’ll be the last thing they ever do.’
That didn’t sound good by any definition.
‘But you’re going after them?’
The young man’s blue eyes met Winona’s and then his, startling Pike with their intensity. The silence stretched out and though Jim said nothing, Pike could see the resounding affirmative in those eyes.
‘That vessel, has advanced weaponry and shielding, and is the same-' Jim paused before continuing, his voice and eyes lowered, a painful unspoken charge in the air, ‘-Romulan vessel that attacked the Kelvin.’
In the background, Pike was faintly aware of the doctor cursing. He took a step back, his mind reeling from the revelation he had just been given. Next to him Winona froze and rapidly paled, her face ordering itself into a hard neutral mask. He felt a pain rip through him at the sight of her - dammit, dammit, to lose her youngest kid and then to hear something like this.
‘You can’t share what I just told you.’ Jim said urgently, giving them both an imploring look.
Pike nodded quickly. No of course not. He wondered if he should even be mentioning this sort of information in the eventual debriefing with the DTI. ‘But the Romulans…? Are they …?’
Jim shook his head, reading his mind. ‘No, they’re rogue - the Empire knows as much about them as you do.’
Commander Pike nodded slowly, understanding the implications. No one could know. Half of Starfleet Command and the department heads were veterans or those born in the aftermath the Romulan War - even if this Romulan vessel was from the future and completely separate from the Empire, most of them probably wouldn’t see it that way. Concerned with her silence, he glanced quickly over to the woman next to him, to reassure himself that she was okay. Winona was staring at the young man, an unreadable expression etched across her features.
‘Less than a minute now,’ McCoy warned.
Jim swallowed painfully and glancing away, fixed his eyes steadily on Winona’s face. ‘Commodore Kirk, don’t worry. I’ll get him, I promise.’
Winona stared at him for a moment, her brows furrowing and her mouth pursing before it flattened out again, and she was as expressionless as a Vulcan. Swallowing thickly, she nodded once.
‘Commander Pike,’ the young man said, posture straightening, becoming serious - yeah, Pike could see a hint of a captain somewhere in there, ‘Thank you sir, for everything.’ The young man smiled, his expression becoming fond, like Pike was an old friend. ‘If this doesn’t work out and as my Vulcan First Officer puts it, “universe-ending paradoxes should ensue”, I want you to know you can whistle really loud.’
Before he had a chance to ask what Jim meant by that, there was a soft whine, the faint glowing light of the transporter beam, and then they were alone under the night sky. Pike glanced up at the sky full of stars - Vulcan First Officer? No Vulcan had been in Starfleet for decades and no Vulcan had ever attended the Academy, since they thought it beneath their Vulcan Science Academy, so what happens between now and the future that they’re entering the Academy and becoming First Officers? Pike looked away from the sky because there wasn’t any point in thinking about what might be. He had enough to deal with just in the here and now. He needed a drink - no, they needed a drink.
‘Drinks on me?’ He asked quietly.
‘Yeah,’ Winona nodded, blinking furiously, staring hard on the night sky, ‘Sounds good.’
---------
Location unknown: the Narada, year 2246
Even without turning, Spock knew that James was awake. It had been weeks since they had been beamed back to the ship from the Vulcan wilderness. At first they had focused on tending to their various injuries, however, once recovered James had immediately attempted to access the shipboard computers. However, this resulted in a permanent sentence to their dark cell. The toilet facilities were utilitarian but adequate, they were able to crudely clean themselves and their clothing, and they slept on the floor with an array of blankets supplied to them. Time became an entirely abstract notion in their isolation, and even Spock had to admit, he could feel a certain mental and emotional strain.
‘Is something troubling you?’
There was a hesitation before James spoke, voice echoing slightly. ‘Spock, stop scaring me like that!’
‘I apologize.’
There was a short period of silence. Spock felt a tense awareness across his shoulders advising him that he was being observed and he wondered what troubled James that the human could not successfully maintain his sleep. His fingers, together in the standard meditative pose, flexed.
‘Spock,’ James said softly, ‘I’m hungry.’
‘You ate recently.’
‘I know but,’ there were faint rustling sounds, ‘-but I’m starving, Spock, and my knees hurt.’
Spock wondered if the physical pain was a sign of the inadequate nutritional value of their Romulan meals. While Mother ate at home where all the meals were vegetarian, she took many meals outside. She never hid the fact that she would eat Human food outside of the home, but he had never pondered the nutritional value of those meals or their contribution to her health. A thought occurred to him: what if the problem isn’t a lack of protein but a lack of something else seemly insignificant to his Vulcan physiology but somehow crucial to Humans, like sodium chloride - a Vulcan has no need for it and yet many Human colonists often became ill from its deficiency in their diet.
‘Are you sick?’ He asked, dreading the answer.
‘No! I am not sick!’ James snapped, his voice rising, ‘Spock would you stop thinking that every “human” thing that I do means that I’m sick! I swear, you ask me every single fucking day!’
While you continue to deny it, Vulcans are more resilient than Humans, a fact based on empirical data… He refrained from reminding the human that there was no way to correctly measure the passing of a “day” in their confinement - it would be spiteful and, Spock took a deep breath, too emotional.
‘I have reason to be concerned.’ He did. Recently, he had been disturbed from his rest by the sound of James crying in his sleep without any stimulus, and the Human had stubbornly refused to respond to common methods of placating distressed Human children. ‘As the act of crying is an emotional response denoting extreme distress, I can only hypothesize that you are unwell. I understand that Human children separated from their parents need-‘
‘I’m not a child! Stop rationalizing everything.’ James said harshly, ‘Stop treating me like some stray human you need to look after! I do not miss my parents! Forget what you learnt about humans needing physical touch to survive! I know that Vulcans don’t touch people so just stop since it obviously makes you uncomfortable! My dad’s dead and my mom’s in Starfleet so she’s never there anyway so there’s no fucking point!’
Spock kept his silence as the human’s breathing became erratic. Tears were imminent - he could tell by the quiet spasms of James’ larynx that he was by now, overcome with emotions and unable to control further outbursts.
‘I apologize-’
There was a loud bang followed by three more in quick succession. Spock stood up in alarm and spun around to confront his friend. In the dim green glow provided by the lighting cube, he perceived that James had buried his face between his raised knees and the noise was from slamming his fists down onto the hard metal plating of their cell.
Unable to help himself, Spock swallowed thickly, a heavy sense of unease coiling in the pit of his stomach. ‘James. You are acting irrationally. Please control yourself.’
James’ shoulder shook and Spock tensed, the uncertainty coiling through his body. The reasons for his friend’s unbecoming behavior and frequent bouts of emotional instability flashed through his mind - nutritional deficiency, lack of physical contact and resulting chemical imbalance, distinctively Human psychological needs that he couldn’t adequately provide resolution for…
His friend looked up at him and though there were tears, he also appeared to be… laughing? Spock raised an eyebrow, unable to control his display of surprise or stop the sudden surge of relief that shot through him like warmth. ‘This is not amusing.’
‘Spock,’ The human shook his head, giggling, ‘I swear one day I’ll kill myself and you’ll be like - James,’ Spock raised his eyebrow at the mocking guttural tone James used, ‘-this is illogical and you will come with me now to-!‘ James didn’t finish his sentence, instead folding in on himself and banging his feet on the metal plating in no particular rhythm. Spock couldn’t tell when the laughing became crying and then lapsed back to laughing.
Insane. Illogical. The usual adjectives rang through his head. Spock added more: complicated, unpredictable. ‘It will serve no purpose for you to kill yourself.’ He said softly, uncomfortable that James would talk about something so lightly.
Finally the boy took a deep breath, schooling his face into some semblance of control. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just kidding.’ James murmured and gave him a tearful smile before hugging himself tightly, rocking side to side. ‘Oh gawd, Spock, I’m going stir-crazy. Darkness, more darkness, and then-!’ the boy shot him a strange smile, ‘you probably don’t even understand, you meditate half the time so you probably-’
There was a pause, ‘Never mind…’
Spock felt a vague sense of disappointed curiosity; he wanted to know what James would have said if he had continued. ‘The term “stir-crazy” - please explain it.’
There was a sigh and James met his eyes, ‘It means that I dislike intensely being kept in one place, confined, unable to go elsewhere. It means that in compensation, I am acting in ways to help relieve myself of needs for things that I can’t get while,’ James averted his eyes, a somberness settling over him, ‘While I’m stuck here, behavior that may seem crazy.’
How apt… ‘What are these “things”?’
The boy shrugged, ‘Things like… like running around playing soccer with Sam, or - I dunno - stuff like sunshine, the wind, some real food like toast or maybe lemonade and I’d kill right now for a chocolate chip cookie or even just a moment alone, you know, to collect my thoughts.’ A dreamy expression settled across James’ face before he looked up, embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that you were awful to be around, no offense or anything.’
It was neither day nor was James asleep and experiencing REM and he was not offended, but Spock kept silent. He understood the Human’s feelings more than he wanted to. He had been attempting to control his own emotional turmoil through intense meditation, but even that was becoming tenuous. Even if Starfleet had attempted to recover him, by now they would have ruled his disappearance as permanent. His intended, T’Pring, must have declared koon-ut so’lik, as was logical and her right. Their bond, not particular strong in the first place, had not withstood the distance the Narada had travelled with him aboard. During their time in the Vulcan wilderness, Spock had discovered the bond completely dissolved no doubt to free T’Pring for another. At the time, he merely noted the change, his mental energies consumed by the need to survive, but now aboard the Narada, he comprehended its disturbing implications: he was dead to everyone who knew him.
Spock came closer and knelt by his friend. ‘May I?’ He asked, gesturing to the closest hand.
James winced and held it out slowly. Mental shields in place, Spock unfurled James’ fingers and noted the broken skin and incongruous lump underneath where usually he would have felt delicate bones. There appeared to be some internal bleeding but nothing for concern. As he examined the state of damage that James had done, Spock became aware of being scrutinized. While he was used to being an object of observation, usually he was examined by Vulcans, in particular his peers, whose derogatory thoughts he could anticipate and whose motives he understood well. It was not the same with a Human, and even less so with this Human.
‘James, are you displeased with me?’ Spock asked as gently as he could, ‘Have I offended you?’
‘No! Shit, don’t get me wrong - this isn’t your fault, Spock,’ James said, his voice rushed.
‘Then,’ He released the hand he had been examining and sat back on his heels, ‘I require you to explain your recent outbursts.’
In the silence, Spock felt a growing sense of unease, the air becoming thick with some strange emotion. Analysis of his senses revealed that it wasn’t coming from himself.
‘I’d rather be on Vulcan and risk suffocating to death than be here in this shithole.’ James said softly in the darkness, a distinctively unhappy note in his voice, ‘And… I’m growing.’
Spock tilted his head in confusion. ‘Of course, James, you’re not yet an adult Human. Your body’s primary focus at the moment is growth.’
‘No I mean I’m growing, like-!’ There was a terse silence followed by a frustrated growl, ‘I’m growing out of my shoes, my clothes are getting too short and everything’s - everything’s weird!’
Define weird…
‘You’re going through…’ Spock felt an unwanted blush coming to his face - this was a serious breach in Vulcan customs of privacy. But then, he reminded himself sharply, humans were different; they celebrated with rituals, recalled the time with fondness, and were even given gifts in commemoration. ‘…Puberty?’
James shrugged, ‘Yeah… it’s sort of …coming soon?’ Spock noted the subtle series of inflections in James’ voice, uncertain of their meaning in this context. The Human fidgeted, ‘You think they’ll give me new clothes and stuff? I mean, I won’t grow much, not yet anyway, we’re all late bloomers in my family but it’s been months and I’m still wearing what I had when I left and it’s - it’s too small...’
Spock’s mind raced to interpret what the Human was saying. ‘You’re in pain because your clothing is no longer suitable for your current level of physical growth.’
‘Sort of…’ James admitted in a reluctant voice, ‘Not the pain, but yeah, it’s uncomfortable. Not that it matters. I’ll get cold without clothes but I got these blankets, so okay, yeah, I don’t need clothes, not really. I never go anywhere, never do anything and-’ There was a soft sigh and the young Vulcan stiffened as the boy leaned forwards and started bumping his forehead against Spock’s shoulder repetitively. ‘I mean, hey, you’re not going to care if I got nothing to wear, right?’
No, but Humans in general were intensely embarrassed about nudity, of themselves and others, and Spock wished to spare his friend the experience if it was anything similar to his mortification at the thought of discussing “puberty” with another Vulcan. Logically, they should ask for new clothing but… it was quite obvious Nero hadn’t considered the finer details of keeping them - especially James, who was a Human - alive for twelve long years.
Or perhaps it was intentional; sadistic but logical, for they were only required to survive till they fulfilled their function and no more.
He placed his hand firmly atop of James’ head, to stop the human from continually bumping his shoulder as if the Human was faulty machinery caught in a looping program. ‘Please stop that.’
There was a muttered apology and then James was curling in on himself, his arms wrapped around his knees.
‘Is there… anything I can do to help?’
Another shrug was James’ response, as uninformative as the last one. ‘Dunno, I just, I feel like...’ James looked up at him, a hopeful expression on his face, ‘Do you think, do you think you could not meditate for awhile?’
‘Yes.’ If pressed, he could survive for many Terran weeks without food or sleep, ‘Why?’
‘Just, I was hoping, you could keep me company.’ The look on James’ face was an expression that Spock didn’t recognize, ‘Tell me about Vulcan, your mom, or your dad even.’
Spock sat in on a cross-leg position and met the human’s eyes, ‘Will you stop being “stir-crazy” if I did this?’
James grinned, ‘No, but it’ll help, a lot.’
With a deep breath, Spock started to speak, ‘40 Eridani is a trinary star system in the Eridanus constellation, located about 16.45 light years from Sol…’
‘Oh,’ James waved his hands lazily, ‘I know that - skip to the good stuff.’
‘The good stuff?’
‘Yeah like,’ James smiled, a light coming into his eyes in the dimness, ‘Like the 40 Eridani Starfleet Construction Yards - you ever been there before?’
Spock shook his head and frowned, as something in his memory surfaced. The 40 Eridani Starfleet Construction Yards was where his parents had gone when he’d been abducted. Not knowing their fate disturbed him more than he would have liked. ‘No, I have not… only, only in passing.’
The Narada would have passed it too, he realized suddenly with a shock. He wondered if there had been a skirmish - the Narada’s weapons and deflector technology were undoubtedly superior, and if there had been hostilities, the Shipyard would have been at a clear disadvantage. A tremor ran through him - perhaps his parents were dead, the Shipyard destroyed, and…
‘Spock,’ There was a gentle hand on his arm, and he met James’ perplexed gaze, ‘Spock are you okay? You were zoning out again - did I, did I say something wrong?’
Spock felt something inside of him come loose and struggle to escape from him. He quelled it and felt a shocking pain, so clear it was almost physical. ‘My parents were present at the Shipyard for a diplomatic function, when Nero took me.’ He said, surprised at the steady tone of his own voice, clear as always.
James reached out and touched his shoulder, stroking in a soothing gesture, ‘They’re fine, I mean, well it’s a Starfleet Shipyard, they got excellent deflectors and safety features, and escape pods - if anything happened, your parents would have been on the first pod out of there, he’s a bigwig Ambassador after all.’
Everything James said was logical. Nevertheless, a persistent part of him fretted. ‘Yes… I suppose.’
The Human opened his mouth, but before he had a chance to speak, the portal overhead opened. They both stood quickly, wary of the Romulan guard who had been sent to collect them. The large built Romulan gestured with his head for them to climb up the ladder.
‘Captain Nero will see you now.’
part twelve
next: Nero attacks!! The Enterprise's attempt to capture his attention works too well, and now the Narada is actively hunting for the source of this subspace disturbance, all while the ship is trying to rendezvous with Kirk and McCoy's shuttle...
Rating: Teen (violence, language, adult themes)
Pairing: pre-slash nu!K/S, kid!K/S
Cast: ensemble, plus Pike, W. Kirk, A. Grayson, and nu!versions of TOS random crew
Keywords: long multi-part fic, kid!Spock, kid!Kirk, time travel, badass!crew, epic friendship
Notes: as a fill for this plotty PROMPT from the kink meme.... I kind of hinted at Pike/Winona in this.. *shrug*
Summary: Kirk and McCoy are finally free from Starfleet detention due to the efforts of Pike and Winona, and are ready to rejoin the Enterprise. Meanwhile aboard, Spock holds an executive meeting regarding tracking down the Narada.
BETA status - jademac2442 -- who has been absolutely awesome about it
back to: part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten /
USS Enterprise, en route to Earth, year 2246
The doors to the Main Briefing Room opened with a hiss, announcing the arrival of Hannity from Operations who gave her a brief shy smile before finding a seat near the back wall. Looking around the room, Uhura realized that everyone present had been with the Enterprise on its maiden mission to Vulcan. Of course, the truth regarding Nero’s incursion, the Red Matter device, all of those details were still classified, and except for high-ranking members of Starfleet and the Vulcan High Council, everyone else had been given a half-truth. This crew was among those who knew what really happened having witnessed it firsthand.
The doors slid opened with a soft hiss and Spock stepped in, his dark eyes taking in the room before he strode around the conference table and gracefully slid into his seat at the head of the table, making it seem like one smooth continuous movement. ‘Ensign Chekov, Commander Scott.’ Spock said, ‘I understand you have a plan for tracking the Narada.’
Uhura turned her attention to Chekov and Scotty, who were conversing in rapid fire whispers.
‘Aye, Commander,’ The Scotsman said, clearing his throat, ‘Just a wee idea Chekov and I been thinking up - with a little help from Lieutenant Uhura there.’ He gave her a nod and a smile, which she returned.
‘So we know that the Narada spent essentially twenty-five years,’ Scotty raised his eyebrows dramatically, looking around the table, ‘-doing nothing except scanning for an electric storm in space, or rather, any subspace anomalies that might be a temporal disturbance.’
‘The Romulan vessel also searched subspace transmission frequencies,’ Chekov said, his accent sharpening the words, ‘Including media transmissions and even set their astrometric sensors for specific warp signatures.’
‘Aye, warp signatures that are specific to future vessels. I mean, according to the report, everything they did was in anticipation of tracking down that ship with the Red Matter device onboard - which is fantastic because that’s going to be our angle.’ The Scottish man beamed happily, settling back in his chair.
Spock tilted his head, a perplexed look upon his face, ‘Please explain this… angle.’
‘Well,’ Chekov began, ‘We can mimic the subspace transmission frequencies used by the Vulcan Science Academy in the twenty-fourth century.’
Uhura leaned forwards on the conference table and turned to look at Spock, ‘I’ve already encoded a series of messages and checked that out, sir - the bandwidth they’re speaking of is low and not currently in use by any known organization.’
‘Yes, the subspace bandwidth is very specific.’
‘Aye, and there’s also something they do in the future, that we don’t do.’
Spock raised an eyebrow, ‘Mr. Scott, I am fully versed on all of the available information, both public and classified - to what do you refer?’
The Chief of Engineered grinned, ‘Subspace oscillation.’
‘Da, they cause minor gravimetric vibrations - which could signify the stabilization of temporal rifts.’
Spock nodded, ‘I see - thereby hinting at the effects of a singularity.’
Chekov pulled out his PADD and slid it to the Vulcan across the table. Uhura watched Spock’s dark head and pointy ears bend over the display, brows furrowed in concentration.
‘The Romulans’ sensors will be definitely be attuned to the oscillations.’
‘Aye, which means if we can create something weird enough, we send it out there, and those Romulans are gonna come running. Subspace disruptions could be nothing, but since they’re looking for anomalies, well...’
‘I see. You propose to lure the Narada into initiating contact with the Enterprise through simultaneous mimicry of a space anomaly and subspace transmissions on bandwidths used only in the twenty-fourth century…’ Spock paused to consider the possibility, head tilting as his eyes flicking to the glossy table top surface and became unfocused; Uhura could almost see those gears spinning, faster and faster, as he mulled over their ideas. ‘An interesting proposal…’
‘No guarantee for ya, sir, but it’s worth a bang. The only other option is go trailing after them which will take forever, and we just haven’t got the manpower, Commander.’
Spock was silent, his eyes scanning the information given to him. Finally, he nodded, ‘Do it.’
‘Already started,’ Scotty replied cheerfully with a wry grin that was infectious. Uhura found herself smiling despite the circumstances.
‘Good. Then I shall expect a report once you have made the necessary preparations and are ready for a trial. However, even with the modifications to the deflector dish, Commander Scott, I do still expect the ship to be battle ready.’
‘Aye sir!’ With an emphatic nod, the Chief Engineer stood and quickly rushed out of the room, Chekov following close at his heels already rattling away in jargon.
--------
Planet-side: Earth, San Francisco City, year 2246
‘How much longer?’
‘Jim you’ve got your own watch - use it!’
‘Yeah, ah, about that - I think mine’s broken.’
‘Oh for -! We got less than ten minutes.’
Besides him, Winona Kirk broke out into a smirk, silently laughing as she threw her head back against the upholstery. Christopher Pike gave her a covert sideways glance, finding absolutely nothing funny in the exchange they were being forced to suffer through and wondered again why she was here. After losing the remaining auto-police units, and whatever law enforcement Starfleet had managed to muster together in the midst of all that confusion, they had dumped Winona’s stolen hovercar and taken Jim’s, which apparently had “more leg-room.”
‘I don’t mean to interrupt, gentleman, but if you’re beaming out soon, shouldn’t we be getting off the street?’ Christopher Pike raised his eyebrows as the two men turned and looked at him, as if surprised to see him in the back seat of the hovercar. He gestured for them to take a left. ‘Here, turn into here.’
‘What - here?’ The young man said in confusion even as he obeyed and steered the transport into a random laneway in the middle of the San Francisco metropolis.
Pike nodded, ‘Keep going till the end - it leads to a park.’
Finally, the hovercar stopped just inside of the gates of the park leading the Xenoculture Museum. Getting out of the vehicle, Pike looked around. It was a late Friday night and this area was quiet. Most people were further down the district, towards the entertainment quarters. He heard the dull sonic roar of impulse engines and looked up, catching the warning lights of a commercial shuttle passing them overhead and gaining altitude quickly as it headed for the Docking Stations stationed over the Pacific. The two men busied themselves dusting off. The young doctor opened the collar of his stolen uniform jacket and looked vaguely ill.
‘So you have a ship in orbit then?’ Winona said.
Pike frowned, a spike of distinct discomfort shooting through him at the sight of the two of them, “Jim” and Winona Kirk, standing there together. ‘Winona, what are you doing here?’
The older woman glanced at him and gave him a dismissive arch of her eyebrow. Pike stiffened. He knew that a look, it was a “shut the fuck up and I’ll tell you later when it’s okay to talk” look. Dammit. So he wasn’t the only one running around doing good old Admiral Archer’s bidding. Vaguely he wondered what the old coot had Winona doing, and if she knew what he knew - or, he thought staring at her, perhaps she knew more than he did, she was a Commodore after all.
‘Just a small one,’ the one named Jim said with a smirk, staring up at the sky like he’ll be able to see it any moment now.
‘A small cloaked vessel? Just how far into the future are we talking here?’ Pike asked without thinking, piqued by his own curiosity, ‘As far as I’m aware, and I know a lot of things people don’t know, cloaking devices are still theoretical if only due to power requirements and the issue of particle radiation.’
‘Not that the Klingons particularly care.’ Winona added dryly sotto voce.
‘Commander Pike,’ Jim shot him a bemused smile, ‘You didn’t honestly just ask me that did you?’
He smiled briefly at his slip, ‘No I guess I didn’t.’
This got him a wide smile, ‘We’ll meet again sir,’ Jim’s smile shifted when his eyes flicked to Winona, ‘-ma’am.’
Doctor McCoy covered his eyes with a grimace, ‘Shut up will ya and stop tempting fate!’
‘Hey, I’m the Captain, let me captain, okay?’
Pike turned away and shook his head in astonishment; Starfleet must have been real down on their recruiting quota for the month to have gotten them two.
Winona cleared her throat, ‘Gentlemen, I have something for you.’
Unfastening the front of her hoverbike jacket, the Commodore reached inside and took out a slender datapad that Pike recognized as being top-of-the-line, the latest model released by the Department of Science. There was a crack in the screen, no doubt due to some shock when she had been forced to dive away from phaser fire that got too close, but its memory would still be extractable. ‘I know you can’t reveal the exact details of your mission, if it’s anything related to what I think it is you’ll need this.’
‘This is…?’ Jim looked at the woman questioningly but took the damaged PADD.
‘This is everything we’ve got - telemetry readings, logs, anything at all that we’ve collected on the Unidentified Vessel that’s been showing all over the place.’ Winona glanced back at Pike with a slight nod, ‘I’m guessing here, but I think you know what to do with this.’
Pike bit down hard on the immediate questions he had regarding how the hell Winona got her hands on that information, and if she broke any Starfleet regulations doing it. No matter how much he sometimes disagreed with her methods, she had been a hell of a TA back in his cadet days - and she did outrank him.
‘Sierra Outposts I and II last picked them up on a course trajectory that should bring them past Deneva. That was two days ago. Last few months they’ve been picked up by various starbases and outposts along the Neutral Zone.’ Winona fixed both young men with her solemn gaze, ‘Unfortunately, according to the Intelligence network, it’s not just us - the Romulans have been taking notice and it’s not good.’
Pike took a breath and felt a slight shiver run down his spine at her words. Though everything in the Academy carried on as normal, the last few months saw an unprecedented amount of cadet graduations ahead of schedule. While it wasn’t anomalous as Starfleet did offer early graduation to individuals or groups who consistently outperformed their peers, he knew that it was Starfleet Tactical trying to make subtle preparations for a possible outbreak of war.
‘Just two weeks ago, our sensors picked up distortions along the Romulan edge of the Neutral Zone,’ He paused, to give them a chance to take in the information, ‘Cloaked vessels - a fleet of perhaps a dozen or more. Unfortunately, we don’t want to reveal to the Romulans that our sensors can pick them up now, so it’s a wait-and-see.’
‘The Romulans haven’t had contact with this vessel, have they?’ Jim asked, looking concerned.
‘Not as far as we know. The Romulans seem to be as worried as we are.’ He paused, not wanting to ask.
Pike wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Winona had no such aversions.
She crossed her arms, frowning. ‘Is this going to be a problem?’
Jim took a deep breath and ran a nervous hand through his hair, ‘Well, maybe.’
‘Maybe?’ She said, her voice raising a full octave.
Jim gave them a conflicted look and then forcibly averted his eyes, ‘Commander, Commodore, by whatever means possible, do not allow any Federation ships or outposts to engage the Unidentified Vessel - I promise you it’ll be the last thing they ever do.’
That didn’t sound good by any definition.
‘But you’re going after them?’
The young man’s blue eyes met Winona’s and then his, startling Pike with their intensity. The silence stretched out and though Jim said nothing, Pike could see the resounding affirmative in those eyes.
‘That vessel, has advanced weaponry and shielding, and is the same-' Jim paused before continuing, his voice and eyes lowered, a painful unspoken charge in the air, ‘-Romulan vessel that attacked the Kelvin.’
In the background, Pike was faintly aware of the doctor cursing. He took a step back, his mind reeling from the revelation he had just been given. Next to him Winona froze and rapidly paled, her face ordering itself into a hard neutral mask. He felt a pain rip through him at the sight of her - dammit, dammit, to lose her youngest kid and then to hear something like this.
‘You can’t share what I just told you.’ Jim said urgently, giving them both an imploring look.
Pike nodded quickly. No of course not. He wondered if he should even be mentioning this sort of information in the eventual debriefing with the DTI. ‘But the Romulans…? Are they …?’
Jim shook his head, reading his mind. ‘No, they’re rogue - the Empire knows as much about them as you do.’
Commander Pike nodded slowly, understanding the implications. No one could know. Half of Starfleet Command and the department heads were veterans or those born in the aftermath the Romulan War - even if this Romulan vessel was from the future and completely separate from the Empire, most of them probably wouldn’t see it that way. Concerned with her silence, he glanced quickly over to the woman next to him, to reassure himself that she was okay. Winona was staring at the young man, an unreadable expression etched across her features.
‘Less than a minute now,’ McCoy warned.
Jim swallowed painfully and glancing away, fixed his eyes steadily on Winona’s face. ‘Commodore Kirk, don’t worry. I’ll get him, I promise.’
Winona stared at him for a moment, her brows furrowing and her mouth pursing before it flattened out again, and she was as expressionless as a Vulcan. Swallowing thickly, she nodded once.
‘Commander Pike,’ the young man said, posture straightening, becoming serious - yeah, Pike could see a hint of a captain somewhere in there, ‘Thank you sir, for everything.’ The young man smiled, his expression becoming fond, like Pike was an old friend. ‘If this doesn’t work out and as my Vulcan First Officer puts it, “universe-ending paradoxes should ensue”, I want you to know you can whistle really loud.’
Before he had a chance to ask what Jim meant by that, there was a soft whine, the faint glowing light of the transporter beam, and then they were alone under the night sky. Pike glanced up at the sky full of stars - Vulcan First Officer? No Vulcan had been in Starfleet for decades and no Vulcan had ever attended the Academy, since they thought it beneath their Vulcan Science Academy, so what happens between now and the future that they’re entering the Academy and becoming First Officers? Pike looked away from the sky because there wasn’t any point in thinking about what might be. He had enough to deal with just in the here and now. He needed a drink - no, they needed a drink.
‘Drinks on me?’ He asked quietly.
‘Yeah,’ Winona nodded, blinking furiously, staring hard on the night sky, ‘Sounds good.’
---------
Location unknown: the Narada, year 2246
Even without turning, Spock knew that James was awake. It had been weeks since they had been beamed back to the ship from the Vulcan wilderness. At first they had focused on tending to their various injuries, however, once recovered James had immediately attempted to access the shipboard computers. However, this resulted in a permanent sentence to their dark cell. The toilet facilities were utilitarian but adequate, they were able to crudely clean themselves and their clothing, and they slept on the floor with an array of blankets supplied to them. Time became an entirely abstract notion in their isolation, and even Spock had to admit, he could feel a certain mental and emotional strain.
‘Is something troubling you?’
There was a hesitation before James spoke, voice echoing slightly. ‘Spock, stop scaring me like that!’
‘I apologize.’
There was a short period of silence. Spock felt a tense awareness across his shoulders advising him that he was being observed and he wondered what troubled James that the human could not successfully maintain his sleep. His fingers, together in the standard meditative pose, flexed.
‘Spock,’ James said softly, ‘I’m hungry.’
‘You ate recently.’
‘I know but,’ there were faint rustling sounds, ‘-but I’m starving, Spock, and my knees hurt.’
Spock wondered if the physical pain was a sign of the inadequate nutritional value of their Romulan meals. While Mother ate at home where all the meals were vegetarian, she took many meals outside. She never hid the fact that she would eat Human food outside of the home, but he had never pondered the nutritional value of those meals or their contribution to her health. A thought occurred to him: what if the problem isn’t a lack of protein but a lack of something else seemly insignificant to his Vulcan physiology but somehow crucial to Humans, like sodium chloride - a Vulcan has no need for it and yet many Human colonists often became ill from its deficiency in their diet.
‘Are you sick?’ He asked, dreading the answer.
‘No! I am not sick!’ James snapped, his voice rising, ‘Spock would you stop thinking that every “human” thing that I do means that I’m sick! I swear, you ask me every single fucking day!’
While you continue to deny it, Vulcans are more resilient than Humans, a fact based on empirical data… He refrained from reminding the human that there was no way to correctly measure the passing of a “day” in their confinement - it would be spiteful and, Spock took a deep breath, too emotional.
‘I have reason to be concerned.’ He did. Recently, he had been disturbed from his rest by the sound of James crying in his sleep without any stimulus, and the Human had stubbornly refused to respond to common methods of placating distressed Human children. ‘As the act of crying is an emotional response denoting extreme distress, I can only hypothesize that you are unwell. I understand that Human children separated from their parents need-‘
‘I’m not a child! Stop rationalizing everything.’ James said harshly, ‘Stop treating me like some stray human you need to look after! I do not miss my parents! Forget what you learnt about humans needing physical touch to survive! I know that Vulcans don’t touch people so just stop since it obviously makes you uncomfortable! My dad’s dead and my mom’s in Starfleet so she’s never there anyway so there’s no fucking point!’
Spock kept his silence as the human’s breathing became erratic. Tears were imminent - he could tell by the quiet spasms of James’ larynx that he was by now, overcome with emotions and unable to control further outbursts.
‘I apologize-’
There was a loud bang followed by three more in quick succession. Spock stood up in alarm and spun around to confront his friend. In the dim green glow provided by the lighting cube, he perceived that James had buried his face between his raised knees and the noise was from slamming his fists down onto the hard metal plating of their cell.
Unable to help himself, Spock swallowed thickly, a heavy sense of unease coiling in the pit of his stomach. ‘James. You are acting irrationally. Please control yourself.’
James’ shoulder shook and Spock tensed, the uncertainty coiling through his body. The reasons for his friend’s unbecoming behavior and frequent bouts of emotional instability flashed through his mind - nutritional deficiency, lack of physical contact and resulting chemical imbalance, distinctively Human psychological needs that he couldn’t adequately provide resolution for…
His friend looked up at him and though there were tears, he also appeared to be… laughing? Spock raised an eyebrow, unable to control his display of surprise or stop the sudden surge of relief that shot through him like warmth. ‘This is not amusing.’
‘Spock,’ The human shook his head, giggling, ‘I swear one day I’ll kill myself and you’ll be like - James,’ Spock raised his eyebrow at the mocking guttural tone James used, ‘-this is illogical and you will come with me now to-!‘ James didn’t finish his sentence, instead folding in on himself and banging his feet on the metal plating in no particular rhythm. Spock couldn’t tell when the laughing became crying and then lapsed back to laughing.
Insane. Illogical. The usual adjectives rang through his head. Spock added more: complicated, unpredictable. ‘It will serve no purpose for you to kill yourself.’ He said softly, uncomfortable that James would talk about something so lightly.
Finally the boy took a deep breath, schooling his face into some semblance of control. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just kidding.’ James murmured and gave him a tearful smile before hugging himself tightly, rocking side to side. ‘Oh gawd, Spock, I’m going stir-crazy. Darkness, more darkness, and then-!’ the boy shot him a strange smile, ‘you probably don’t even understand, you meditate half the time so you probably-’
There was a pause, ‘Never mind…’
Spock felt a vague sense of disappointed curiosity; he wanted to know what James would have said if he had continued. ‘The term “stir-crazy” - please explain it.’
There was a sigh and James met his eyes, ‘It means that I dislike intensely being kept in one place, confined, unable to go elsewhere. It means that in compensation, I am acting in ways to help relieve myself of needs for things that I can’t get while,’ James averted his eyes, a somberness settling over him, ‘While I’m stuck here, behavior that may seem crazy.’
How apt… ‘What are these “things”?’
The boy shrugged, ‘Things like… like running around playing soccer with Sam, or - I dunno - stuff like sunshine, the wind, some real food like toast or maybe lemonade and I’d kill right now for a chocolate chip cookie or even just a moment alone, you know, to collect my thoughts.’ A dreamy expression settled across James’ face before he looked up, embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that you were awful to be around, no offense or anything.’
It was neither day nor was James asleep and experiencing REM and he was not offended, but Spock kept silent. He understood the Human’s feelings more than he wanted to. He had been attempting to control his own emotional turmoil through intense meditation, but even that was becoming tenuous. Even if Starfleet had attempted to recover him, by now they would have ruled his disappearance as permanent. His intended, T’Pring, must have declared koon-ut so’lik, as was logical and her right. Their bond, not particular strong in the first place, had not withstood the distance the Narada had travelled with him aboard. During their time in the Vulcan wilderness, Spock had discovered the bond completely dissolved no doubt to free T’Pring for another. At the time, he merely noted the change, his mental energies consumed by the need to survive, but now aboard the Narada, he comprehended its disturbing implications: he was dead to everyone who knew him.
Spock came closer and knelt by his friend. ‘May I?’ He asked, gesturing to the closest hand.
James winced and held it out slowly. Mental shields in place, Spock unfurled James’ fingers and noted the broken skin and incongruous lump underneath where usually he would have felt delicate bones. There appeared to be some internal bleeding but nothing for concern. As he examined the state of damage that James had done, Spock became aware of being scrutinized. While he was used to being an object of observation, usually he was examined by Vulcans, in particular his peers, whose derogatory thoughts he could anticipate and whose motives he understood well. It was not the same with a Human, and even less so with this Human.
‘James, are you displeased with me?’ Spock asked as gently as he could, ‘Have I offended you?’
‘No! Shit, don’t get me wrong - this isn’t your fault, Spock,’ James said, his voice rushed.
‘Then,’ He released the hand he had been examining and sat back on his heels, ‘I require you to explain your recent outbursts.’
In the silence, Spock felt a growing sense of unease, the air becoming thick with some strange emotion. Analysis of his senses revealed that it wasn’t coming from himself.
‘I’d rather be on Vulcan and risk suffocating to death than be here in this shithole.’ James said softly in the darkness, a distinctively unhappy note in his voice, ‘And… I’m growing.’
Spock tilted his head in confusion. ‘Of course, James, you’re not yet an adult Human. Your body’s primary focus at the moment is growth.’
‘No I mean I’m growing, like-!’ There was a terse silence followed by a frustrated growl, ‘I’m growing out of my shoes, my clothes are getting too short and everything’s - everything’s weird!’
Define weird…
‘You’re going through…’ Spock felt an unwanted blush coming to his face - this was a serious breach in Vulcan customs of privacy. But then, he reminded himself sharply, humans were different; they celebrated with rituals, recalled the time with fondness, and were even given gifts in commemoration. ‘…Puberty?’
James shrugged, ‘Yeah… it’s sort of …coming soon?’ Spock noted the subtle series of inflections in James’ voice, uncertain of their meaning in this context. The Human fidgeted, ‘You think they’ll give me new clothes and stuff? I mean, I won’t grow much, not yet anyway, we’re all late bloomers in my family but it’s been months and I’m still wearing what I had when I left and it’s - it’s too small...’
Spock’s mind raced to interpret what the Human was saying. ‘You’re in pain because your clothing is no longer suitable for your current level of physical growth.’
‘Sort of…’ James admitted in a reluctant voice, ‘Not the pain, but yeah, it’s uncomfortable. Not that it matters. I’ll get cold without clothes but I got these blankets, so okay, yeah, I don’t need clothes, not really. I never go anywhere, never do anything and-’ There was a soft sigh and the young Vulcan stiffened as the boy leaned forwards and started bumping his forehead against Spock’s shoulder repetitively. ‘I mean, hey, you’re not going to care if I got nothing to wear, right?’
No, but Humans in general were intensely embarrassed about nudity, of themselves and others, and Spock wished to spare his friend the experience if it was anything similar to his mortification at the thought of discussing “puberty” with another Vulcan. Logically, they should ask for new clothing but… it was quite obvious Nero hadn’t considered the finer details of keeping them - especially James, who was a Human - alive for twelve long years.
Or perhaps it was intentional; sadistic but logical, for they were only required to survive till they fulfilled their function and no more.
He placed his hand firmly atop of James’ head, to stop the human from continually bumping his shoulder as if the Human was faulty machinery caught in a looping program. ‘Please stop that.’
There was a muttered apology and then James was curling in on himself, his arms wrapped around his knees.
‘Is there… anything I can do to help?’
Another shrug was James’ response, as uninformative as the last one. ‘Dunno, I just, I feel like...’ James looked up at him, a hopeful expression on his face, ‘Do you think, do you think you could not meditate for awhile?’
‘Yes.’ If pressed, he could survive for many Terran weeks without food or sleep, ‘Why?’
‘Just, I was hoping, you could keep me company.’ The look on James’ face was an expression that Spock didn’t recognize, ‘Tell me about Vulcan, your mom, or your dad even.’
Spock sat in on a cross-leg position and met the human’s eyes, ‘Will you stop being “stir-crazy” if I did this?’
James grinned, ‘No, but it’ll help, a lot.’
With a deep breath, Spock started to speak, ‘40 Eridani is a trinary star system in the Eridanus constellation, located about 16.45 light years from Sol…’
‘Oh,’ James waved his hands lazily, ‘I know that - skip to the good stuff.’
‘The good stuff?’
‘Yeah like,’ James smiled, a light coming into his eyes in the dimness, ‘Like the 40 Eridani Starfleet Construction Yards - you ever been there before?’
Spock shook his head and frowned, as something in his memory surfaced. The 40 Eridani Starfleet Construction Yards was where his parents had gone when he’d been abducted. Not knowing their fate disturbed him more than he would have liked. ‘No, I have not… only, only in passing.’
The Narada would have passed it too, he realized suddenly with a shock. He wondered if there had been a skirmish - the Narada’s weapons and deflector technology were undoubtedly superior, and if there had been hostilities, the Shipyard would have been at a clear disadvantage. A tremor ran through him - perhaps his parents were dead, the Shipyard destroyed, and…
‘Spock,’ There was a gentle hand on his arm, and he met James’ perplexed gaze, ‘Spock are you okay? You were zoning out again - did I, did I say something wrong?’
Spock felt something inside of him come loose and struggle to escape from him. He quelled it and felt a shocking pain, so clear it was almost physical. ‘My parents were present at the Shipyard for a diplomatic function, when Nero took me.’ He said, surprised at the steady tone of his own voice, clear as always.
James reached out and touched his shoulder, stroking in a soothing gesture, ‘They’re fine, I mean, well it’s a Starfleet Shipyard, they got excellent deflectors and safety features, and escape pods - if anything happened, your parents would have been on the first pod out of there, he’s a bigwig Ambassador after all.’
Everything James said was logical. Nevertheless, a persistent part of him fretted. ‘Yes… I suppose.’
The Human opened his mouth, but before he had a chance to speak, the portal overhead opened. They both stood quickly, wary of the Romulan guard who had been sent to collect them. The large built Romulan gestured with his head for them to climb up the ladder.
‘Captain Nero will see you now.’
part twelve
next: Nero attacks!! The Enterprise's attempt to capture his attention works too well, and now the Narada is actively hunting for the source of this subspace disturbance, all while the ship is trying to rendezvous with Kirk and McCoy's shuttle...