Heart's Survival Trek Reverse Bang 2/6
Jun. 22nd, 2011 10:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
1lostoneTitle: Rishan D’Kahf-spol (Heart’s Survival)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
1lostone
Rating: NC-17
Universe: TOS+ Reboot
Words: 22,259
Beta:jademac2442
Pairings: K/S and of course, K/S
Warnings: None really. Some angst and h/c.
Summary: Jim and Spock , who can barely tolerate working together, let alone come anywhere near the epic friendship they’re supposed to have, find themselves on an inhospitable (but strangely not uninhabited) planet- stranded from the Enterprise.
A/N: Written as a pinch-hit for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
trekreversebang for swordsart 's amazing art. Also thanks to my cheerleading squad, jlm121 , littleboycalico , and yesterday_girl
Link to Art: Here
Link to Fic: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Spock broke through the surface of the water with a sucking, gasping moan, the air thick and so humid that it was as though he were breathing smoke. He jerked the captain to him with one precise movement of his shoulders, curling one arm around him so that the man’s head was above the water.
He cast about quickly and blinked, tossing his his head so that the thick water slid off of his face. The light was strangely reddish, glaring oddly with the green cast of the water. He felt Jim’s body bump against his, and Spock began to tread water, yanking the other man to him and feeling for a pulse. There was none. Spock realized his fingers were shaking. He forced himself to breathe and bent so that his ear was against the human’s chest. No. No movement.
Spock turned in the water,quickly realizing that the shuttle must have crashed on some sort of shelf or sandbar. There was land within swimming distance. Spock allowed himself a small frown, calculating the chances of Jim’s brain not suffering significant damage due to lack of oxygen as he began to swim again, forcing his body to go as fast as he possibly could towards land. He was not certain that he could adequately resuscitate the captain while in the water, therefore he needed to reach a solid surface in order to do so.
Starfleet training, even for one who was not particularly fond of swimming, took over. Now that Spock could switch his grip on the captain, he found that he could swim much faster. Everything narrowed to his aching muscles; burning tendons and slightly acidic oxygen intake making his lungs feel heavy. His knee struck something solid, and Spock gave a grunt of exertion as he was able to twist his body, hefting the captain into his arms so that he could pull him out of the water and onto the shore.
Spock did not take the time to notice the strange, powdery consistency of the sand , nor the strangely colored foliage as he immediately began cardiopulmonary resuscitation, tilting back his captain’s head and placing his hands on Jim’s chest. Spock pressed carefully, mimicking the breathing movements of a human’s normal respiratory rate. It seemed illogical that so much fluid could come out of the lungs. Spock bent his neck, carefully ascertaining that Jim’s tongue wasn’t blocking his airway, before placing his lips on the human’s mouth, breathing for him as efficiently as possible.
Jim’s lips were very cold. His normally tanned skin had a faint bluish cast to it of which Spock refused to dwell.
He shifted his weight so that he could bend properly, placing his hands on Jim’s chest, ignoring the jolt of not feeling anything. Spock began compressions, counting to thirty. He had to make a conscious effort to move Jim’s lungs at a human-slow breathing rate instead of the more rapid Vulcan. He moved to check Jim’s airway, bending to force two breaths into Jim’s unresponsive lungs.
No response.
Spock repeated his actions, wincing a little when he heard Jim’s ribs break with the force of his compressions, check the airway,breathe, compress. Spock’s fingers twitched as he bent to breathe once again into Jim’s mouth. Spock’s careful hearing caught the small sound of oxygen as it whistled through Jim’s body and he allowed himself a small, weak moment where his eyes shut in relief as the captains’ lungs slowly began functioning again. Jim twitched, but otherwise remained completely unresponsive.
But he was breathing on his own. Spock watched as the faint bluish cast of Jim’s skin began to fade as his oxygen-rich blood began to circulate through his body once again.
Spock swayed for a moment, straightening up and settling back on his feet as he stared down at the unconscious Captain. He reached out his hand to the the clammy wrist, shoving the sleeve of the uniform up and out of the way. Spock could feel the human’s pulse, counting the beats. The pulse was slow, as were Jim’s-no the Captain, he was not Jim but the captain and Spock would do well to remember these boundaries- respirations.
He was alive, but unresponsive.
Spock looked to his surroundings, to the light green water that they had crashed in, attempting to calculate where the bag containing the medical kit had likely sunk. There was a medical tricorder, as well as a portable regenerator in every standard medical kit. Well, at least in every standard medical kit put together by Doctor McCoy that had even the slightest chance of coming into contact with James T. Kirk.
He must have that bag.
Spock’s gaze jumped from the aqua colored ground foliage that snaked out onto the lavender sand, to Jim’s too-still form. Spock had the oddest urge to go to the Captain and try to make him more comfortable, and shook his head sharply.
Most concerning was the fact that Jim’s brain had been without oxygen for so long. Spock calculated the infinitesimal likelihood that he would indeed be able to find the medical equipment and make it back to Jim before the other man woke. Had Doctor McCoy been here, Spock would not have been so... troubled. Spock himself was not a medical professional. He did not know the particulars of drowning on a human’s body. What if Jim should wake and find himself in some distress? Spock would be unable to assist him if he were not here, carefully monitoring Jim’s condition.
Spock frowned, as dizziness caused his vision to blur. He shook his head impatiently. The head wound he had sustained on the shuttle was interfering with his ability to think logically. Spock had at his disposal a method by which to assist his captain. If they were to meld, then Spock could certainly manage to discover exactly how damaged Jim’s brain was from its trauma.
Spock looked back down to Jim, lying pale and fragile-looking on the faintly lavender sand. Fragility was not an adjective Spock frequently associated with his captain. Yet it was the one that came most aptly to his mind.
Spock released a breath, focusing himself, once again reaching out with both hands, settling his fingers carefully into position. Jim’s skin was clammy, a faintly oily residue from the liquid that had nearly taken his life sliding unpleasantly against Spock’s fingertips as he pressed, the buzz of Jim’s mind like a low level electric current. ‘
Spock muttered the ritualistic words as another wave of dizziness caused him to falter, his shields bulging for a moment, rippling as though a rock had been thrown into a shallow pool before Spock was able to firm his mental barriers, appalled at his own lack of control.
He shifted, and Jim’s mind opened to him.
When Spock was very small, I-Chaya, (whom his mother had insisted on calling Snuggles) his desert-bred Shelat, had wandered off to find its mate. When I-Chaya returned to their home, he had procured water in a matter that had shocked the young Spock; the single-minded focus and want almost obscene in its necessity.
This meld was much like that. He found himself plunging into the mind before him, overwhelmed with the sense of another that seeped through his very psyche, greedy and reveling in the touch of another’s mind sliding with forbidden sensuality against his. In the year that they had been serving together on the Enterprise, Spock had not deeply melded with anyone. Now he felt that lack most severely.
Outside of the meld, Spock was aware that his fingers were rigid, his body taunt with tension. Inside of the meld he forced himself to focus, to pull away from the sensation of such forbidden intimacy and look into Jim’s mind. He worked quickly, ignoring the subtle shift of memories, the spectre of barely contained emotions that crowded around Spock’s mental self. It was very simple to sift through what he needed, to find that spark of light that was simply Jim and coax it back to the surface where it belonged.
He broke the meld only when he felt Jim physically moving underneath his fingers, his eyes cracking open slowly, the bright blue drawing Spock’s own gaze like a magnet. Jim’s brow wrinkled, his lips turning down momentarily in a moue of pain. A sound caused Spock to disengage his fingers, breaking the meld. He moved, instinct and adrenaline causing him to whirl; protecting Jim’s prone form when he heard a monstrous sound from the water. Spock heard a small, primal sound emerge from his throat as he reacted to the sight before him.
The beast that he had glimpsed had risen up, its size momentarily incomprehensible as vast, tree-like tentacles shook and swayed in the air before plunging down into the water. The fall of water roared as the tentacles broke the surface, whirling above the beast’s head and flinging its prize onto the shore, several hundred feet from where Spock still crouched protectively over his captain. The sound when it landed was quite unpleasant, causing indignant squawks from the avian lifeforms that perched in the trees near the shore. A giant plume of sand puffed up, drifting over the both of them, Spock still bent so that he took the brunt of the cloud of sand, protecting Jim’s prone body as best he could.
“Sp--ock?”
Jim's voice was thready, exhausted and lower than Jim’s normal register. Idly, Spock hypothesised that Jim’s trauma had somehow damaged his vocal cords, causing the his normal tones to come forth an octave lower, gravelly and roughened. He watched as Jim’s pink tongue came out to wet his lips, blinking once before shifting slightly, moving so that none of his uniform was touching Jim’s.
“Did the Loch Ness Monster just throw a shuttle at us?” Jim sounded dazed as he stared in shock at the shuttle, the green, oily water dripping into puddles that smoked for a moment against the powdery lavender sand.
Spock’s face was impassive as he watched two of the smaller tentacles plunge back under the surface of the water. A small black object dangled from one of the suckers on the underside of the tentacle, the silver Starfleet insignia stark against the blackness of the bag. The tentacle flexed, the bag moving in an almost perfect arc.
The bag landed twenty feet from the Shuttle with a muffled clatter.
“Indeed, Captain. It would appear so.”
“Report.”
“Aye, sir. Communication from Starfleet states that the planet was a highly technological, but pre-warp society. The planet, Veragon IV was not a member of the Federation, so information is sketchy. What we do know is that the planet shows no life signs and scans show that it has been abandoned for several years.”
“Any sign of a geological distress? Sickness? Warfare?”
“None, sir.”
Kirk sat back in his chair, crossing his legs.
“Spock?”
The lack of a reply sent Kirk’s startled gaze towards the science station. “Mister Spock. Report.”
Spock straightened from his viewer. He looked over to where Kirk sat, the expectant look on his face fading a little into concern. Had Spock been anyone else, Kirk would have called the expression on his face almost... preoccupied. As it was, Spock blinked twice before responding.
“Spock?”
“Yes, Sir.” Spock straightened his shoulders, back ramrod straight. Kirk knew it was his way of reorienting himself, and the fact that Spock would show such a lapse on the bridge had Kirk inwardly reeling. He doubted that it was noticeable to the rest of the bridge crew, but to him the small slip was as loud as the red alert klaxon.
“Scans show no lifesigns on Veragon IV, per the previous report. With your permission, I would like to lead an away team down to the surface.”
“I believe I might accompany you, Mr. Spock.” Kirk heard the turbolift door open and knew it was Bones by the sound of his step. “Surely not even I can get into trouble if there’s nothing down there.”
“Ha. I’ll believe that when I see it.” Bones’ grumble was just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to be blatantly insubordinate. It was a fine line that he’d walked for most of the time Kirk had known him.
“Sir, as previously stated-”
“Save it, Spock. You’re not talking me out of this one. It’s just a planet. No lifesigns, no sign of distress, no earthquakes... not even an omnipotently taunting alien playing chess with the Federation. ” Kirk looked over to Chekov to confirm his last statement, grinning at the way the navigator nodded, watching his and Spock’s conversation go back and forth, as though watching a ping-pong tournament.
“Sir I do not believe that ‘omnipotently’ is an actual Standard word. ”
Kirk snorted. He looked over at Bones who was staring at him, brow creased in a scowl. “Don’t look at me. I’m a doctor, not a damn grammarian. I don’t know if any planet is safe when you’re on it, Jimmy boy, but I do know that you haven’t had leave in over three months. You were in sickbay the last time the crew had it. If there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on on that bit of dirt down there, then I say you can hold a tricorder as well as anybody.”
Spock simply cocked an eyebrow.
“Mister Sulu, you have the conn.” Kirk had to restrain himself from rocking back on his heels with excitement. As much as he loved his job, it would be nice to have some time with Spock on the deserted planet. Nice enough to override Spock’s obvious objections.
Spock followed him onto the turbolift and the two of them made their way to the transporter room as they’d done thousands of times before. Kirk stole a few glances at Spock out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t detect whether Spock was irate or not. Not that he would actually show it if he were really mad. Even during his pon far, he’d had a way of being remote, even when his body was out of control.
“Ready, Captain.”
“Thank you Ensign.” Kirk adjusted the strap of the tricorder and straightened his shoulders.
“Energize.”
Before he could blink, he and Spock had materialized onto the planet. He and Spock moved as one, turning so that their backs were to each other. Kirk blinked, taking in the sight before him. His eyelashes fluttered for a second in surprise as he gazed around them, breathing a soft “wow” of disbelief.
They were in a city.
Vehicles littered the streets, choking the avenues and boulevards with traffic locked perpetually in a state of motion, forever going nowhere. There did not seem to be any discernible power source. Kirk took a step forward, his senses on alert, even though it was obvious that whatever had happened here, had happened long enough in the past that he couldn’t help anyone. Ferns and other fauna choked much of the pavement, creeping up over streetlights and buildings as though the land was reclaiming its own space. Kirk watched as Spock bent to begin taking readings of the purple flowers that waved gently in the breeze.
“Curious, Captain. Whatever caused the sentient life forms on this planet to leave has not effected the abundance of plant life.”
Kirk raised his arm to rub at the back of his green wrap-around tunic, absently scratching at the synthetic material as he surveyed the buildings around him. It never ceased to amaze him that Starfleet could design starships to send people out into the black to boldly go and discover new and amazing things- but couldn’t design a goddamn uniform that didn’t have some manner of itchy fabric. Between the back stitching and the Captains braids on his wrist, Kirk felt like a little kid who had been given over-starched shirts at a family gathering.
“Let’s take some readings then. See if we can start to put together the puzzle.”
“Affirmative, Captain.”
The buildings seemed to tower over most of the small town square that they had beamed in to, casting strangely elongated shadows over most of the rest of the once-thriving city. Kirk scanned the material with his tricorder, eyes taking in the material used. It looked like a mixture of what was probably local granite and other materials. It almost reminded Kirk of stucco. He heard Spock walking off a little to his left and had to smile to himself. Even though he was going to be stuck here until Spock explored just about the whole damn hemisphere- which, actually, that reminded him.
“Spock? This is the only land mass on the planet built above ground, right? The scans from the ship showed that this was mostly a planet of water, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Are we sure that they didn’t just- go aground? I mean, just because we see buildings we think that they must have been deserted. But what if the predominant culture was indigenous to the ocean?”
Kirk was rewarded with the slow blink and slight twitching of lips that showed he had managed to surprise the Vulcan. Kirk ignored the way his heart leaped at the sight. Spock’s whole face had softened as he stared back at Kirk with warm brown eyes.
“An interesting theory, Captain.”
“Aw, come on. Surely you can call me Jim. We’re on duty, but we’re alone here. You don’t have to be so formal with me, you know.”
Kirk cursed himself as Spock blinked slowly again, turning and walking off to investigate some darker aqua vines without a word. Shit. He should have just kept his mouth shut. Frowning, Kirk started walking, continuing to examine the ground, buildings and objects that had long-since falling into disuse. His footsteps echoed strangely on the city’s streets.
His tricorder gave a strange sort of beep, before the screen flickered off and then quickly on. Kirk’s brow furrowed and he shook it slightly. “Damn thing,” he muttered under his breath. He caught a glimpse of out of the corner of his eye as something moved. It was so out of place on the deserted city streets that he froze, adrenaline spiking through his body.
The being that stood there was very small. She looked about ten years of Terran age. She stood calmly, the faint breeze stirring the gossamer of her dress. She had her fingers steepled together under her chest, with the pointer fingers against the hollow under her throat, and the back of her hands facing outward. Her eyes were slanted. She did not appear to have a nose. instead, a raised ridge gave her face a bisected look. Her ears were set at the top of her head, consisting of several bumps of cartilage that looked vaguely like horns to Kirk’s startled gaze.
The girl turned and walked away, her steps making no sound on the ground as she walked. She stopped about five meters away and looked back at Kirk. Jim heard a footstep and jumped a little when Spock’s fingers slid around his bicep. He jumped for another reason entirely when Spock leaned forward, his breath tickling Kirk’s ear as he spoke. “Captain. No readings on the tricorder.”
Well that was hardly a surprise. And honestly, it wasn’t the first time Kirk had shared a hallucination. Kirk was hyperaware that if he turned his head, even the smallest fraction, that Spock would be kissing his ear. He tried to beat that thought back before Spock picked up on it.
“She obviously wants us to follow her.”
“I do not know if that is wise.”
Kirk felt the adrenaline still whirring inside his gut, although if it was from the appearance of the strange alien or from the heat of Spock’s hand, he wasn’t sure. “Probably not, Mister Spock. But if she took the trouble to appear to us, then I think it’s only polite to follow her.” Kirk broke away from Spock’s hold and began walking after the being. “You coming?”
Kirk watched something flit across Spock’s face before he controlled himself, presenting the indifferent mask that he usually wore. He nodded once, glanced down at his tricorder, and began walking beside Kirk, both of them following the child-like being out of the city and into the unknown.
Chapter 3
Author:
1lostone Rating: NC-17
Universe: TOS+ Reboot
Words: 22,259
Beta:
jademac2442 Pairings: K/S and of course, K/S
Warnings: None really. Some angst and h/c.
Summary: Jim and Spock , who can barely tolerate working together, let alone come anywhere near the epic friendship they’re supposed to have, find themselves on an inhospitable (but strangely not uninhabited) planet- stranded from the Enterprise.
A/N: Written as a pinch-hit for the
trekreversebang for swordsart 's amazing art. Also thanks to my cheerleading squad, jlm121 , littleboycalico , and yesterday_girl Link to Art: Here
Link to Fic: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 2
Spock broke through the surface of the water with a sucking, gasping moan, the air thick and so humid that it was as though he were breathing smoke. He jerked the captain to him with one precise movement of his shoulders, curling one arm around him so that the man’s head was above the water.
He cast about quickly and blinked, tossing his his head so that the thick water slid off of his face. The light was strangely reddish, glaring oddly with the green cast of the water. He felt Jim’s body bump against his, and Spock began to tread water, yanking the other man to him and feeling for a pulse. There was none. Spock realized his fingers were shaking. He forced himself to breathe and bent so that his ear was against the human’s chest. No. No movement.
Spock turned in the water,quickly realizing that the shuttle must have crashed on some sort of shelf or sandbar. There was land within swimming distance. Spock allowed himself a small frown, calculating the chances of Jim’s brain not suffering significant damage due to lack of oxygen as he began to swim again, forcing his body to go as fast as he possibly could towards land. He was not certain that he could adequately resuscitate the captain while in the water, therefore he needed to reach a solid surface in order to do so.
Starfleet training, even for one who was not particularly fond of swimming, took over. Now that Spock could switch his grip on the captain, he found that he could swim much faster. Everything narrowed to his aching muscles; burning tendons and slightly acidic oxygen intake making his lungs feel heavy. His knee struck something solid, and Spock gave a grunt of exertion as he was able to twist his body, hefting the captain into his arms so that he could pull him out of the water and onto the shore.
Spock did not take the time to notice the strange, powdery consistency of the sand , nor the strangely colored foliage as he immediately began cardiopulmonary resuscitation, tilting back his captain’s head and placing his hands on Jim’s chest. Spock pressed carefully, mimicking the breathing movements of a human’s normal respiratory rate. It seemed illogical that so much fluid could come out of the lungs. Spock bent his neck, carefully ascertaining that Jim’s tongue wasn’t blocking his airway, before placing his lips on the human’s mouth, breathing for him as efficiently as possible.
Jim’s lips were very cold. His normally tanned skin had a faint bluish cast to it of which Spock refused to dwell.
He shifted his weight so that he could bend properly, placing his hands on Jim’s chest, ignoring the jolt of not feeling anything. Spock began compressions, counting to thirty. He had to make a conscious effort to move Jim’s lungs at a human-slow breathing rate instead of the more rapid Vulcan. He moved to check Jim’s airway, bending to force two breaths into Jim’s unresponsive lungs.
No response.
Spock repeated his actions, wincing a little when he heard Jim’s ribs break with the force of his compressions, check the airway,breathe, compress. Spock’s fingers twitched as he bent to breathe once again into Jim’s mouth. Spock’s careful hearing caught the small sound of oxygen as it whistled through Jim’s body and he allowed himself a small, weak moment where his eyes shut in relief as the captains’ lungs slowly began functioning again. Jim twitched, but otherwise remained completely unresponsive.
But he was breathing on his own. Spock watched as the faint bluish cast of Jim’s skin began to fade as his oxygen-rich blood began to circulate through his body once again.
Spock swayed for a moment, straightening up and settling back on his feet as he stared down at the unconscious Captain. He reached out his hand to the the clammy wrist, shoving the sleeve of the uniform up and out of the way. Spock could feel the human’s pulse, counting the beats. The pulse was slow, as were Jim’s-no the Captain, he was not Jim but the captain and Spock would do well to remember these boundaries- respirations.
He was alive, but unresponsive.
Spock looked to his surroundings, to the light green water that they had crashed in, attempting to calculate where the bag containing the medical kit had likely sunk. There was a medical tricorder, as well as a portable regenerator in every standard medical kit. Well, at least in every standard medical kit put together by Doctor McCoy that had even the slightest chance of coming into contact with James T. Kirk.
He must have that bag.
Spock’s gaze jumped from the aqua colored ground foliage that snaked out onto the lavender sand, to Jim’s too-still form. Spock had the oddest urge to go to the Captain and try to make him more comfortable, and shook his head sharply.
Most concerning was the fact that Jim’s brain had been without oxygen for so long. Spock calculated the infinitesimal likelihood that he would indeed be able to find the medical equipment and make it back to Jim before the other man woke. Had Doctor McCoy been here, Spock would not have been so... troubled. Spock himself was not a medical professional. He did not know the particulars of drowning on a human’s body. What if Jim should wake and find himself in some distress? Spock would be unable to assist him if he were not here, carefully monitoring Jim’s condition.
Spock frowned, as dizziness caused his vision to blur. He shook his head impatiently. The head wound he had sustained on the shuttle was interfering with his ability to think logically. Spock had at his disposal a method by which to assist his captain. If they were to meld, then Spock could certainly manage to discover exactly how damaged Jim’s brain was from its trauma.
Spock looked back down to Jim, lying pale and fragile-looking on the faintly lavender sand. Fragility was not an adjective Spock frequently associated with his captain. Yet it was the one that came most aptly to his mind.
Spock released a breath, focusing himself, once again reaching out with both hands, settling his fingers carefully into position. Jim’s skin was clammy, a faintly oily residue from the liquid that had nearly taken his life sliding unpleasantly against Spock’s fingertips as he pressed, the buzz of Jim’s mind like a low level electric current. ‘
Spock muttered the ritualistic words as another wave of dizziness caused him to falter, his shields bulging for a moment, rippling as though a rock had been thrown into a shallow pool before Spock was able to firm his mental barriers, appalled at his own lack of control.
He shifted, and Jim’s mind opened to him.
When Spock was very small, I-Chaya, (whom his mother had insisted on calling Snuggles) his desert-bred Shelat, had wandered off to find its mate. When I-Chaya returned to their home, he had procured water in a matter that had shocked the young Spock; the single-minded focus and want almost obscene in its necessity.
This meld was much like that. He found himself plunging into the mind before him, overwhelmed with the sense of another that seeped through his very psyche, greedy and reveling in the touch of another’s mind sliding with forbidden sensuality against his. In the year that they had been serving together on the Enterprise, Spock had not deeply melded with anyone. Now he felt that lack most severely.
Outside of the meld, Spock was aware that his fingers were rigid, his body taunt with tension. Inside of the meld he forced himself to focus, to pull away from the sensation of such forbidden intimacy and look into Jim’s mind. He worked quickly, ignoring the subtle shift of memories, the spectre of barely contained emotions that crowded around Spock’s mental self. It was very simple to sift through what he needed, to find that spark of light that was simply Jim and coax it back to the surface where it belonged.
He broke the meld only when he felt Jim physically moving underneath his fingers, his eyes cracking open slowly, the bright blue drawing Spock’s own gaze like a magnet. Jim’s brow wrinkled, his lips turning down momentarily in a moue of pain. A sound caused Spock to disengage his fingers, breaking the meld. He moved, instinct and adrenaline causing him to whirl; protecting Jim’s prone form when he heard a monstrous sound from the water. Spock heard a small, primal sound emerge from his throat as he reacted to the sight before him.
The beast that he had glimpsed had risen up, its size momentarily incomprehensible as vast, tree-like tentacles shook and swayed in the air before plunging down into the water. The fall of water roared as the tentacles broke the surface, whirling above the beast’s head and flinging its prize onto the shore, several hundred feet from where Spock still crouched protectively over his captain. The sound when it landed was quite unpleasant, causing indignant squawks from the avian lifeforms that perched in the trees near the shore. A giant plume of sand puffed up, drifting over the both of them, Spock still bent so that he took the brunt of the cloud of sand, protecting Jim’s prone body as best he could.
“Sp--ock?”
Jim's voice was thready, exhausted and lower than Jim’s normal register. Idly, Spock hypothesised that Jim’s trauma had somehow damaged his vocal cords, causing the his normal tones to come forth an octave lower, gravelly and roughened. He watched as Jim’s pink tongue came out to wet his lips, blinking once before shifting slightly, moving so that none of his uniform was touching Jim’s.
“Did the Loch Ness Monster just throw a shuttle at us?” Jim sounded dazed as he stared in shock at the shuttle, the green, oily water dripping into puddles that smoked for a moment against the powdery lavender sand.
Spock’s face was impassive as he watched two of the smaller tentacles plunge back under the surface of the water. A small black object dangled from one of the suckers on the underside of the tentacle, the silver Starfleet insignia stark against the blackness of the bag. The tentacle flexed, the bag moving in an almost perfect arc.
The bag landed twenty feet from the Shuttle with a muffled clatter.
“Indeed, Captain. It would appear so.”
“Report.”
“Aye, sir. Communication from Starfleet states that the planet was a highly technological, but pre-warp society. The planet, Veragon IV was not a member of the Federation, so information is sketchy. What we do know is that the planet shows no life signs and scans show that it has been abandoned for several years.”
“Any sign of a geological distress? Sickness? Warfare?”
“None, sir.”
Kirk sat back in his chair, crossing his legs.
“Spock?”
The lack of a reply sent Kirk’s startled gaze towards the science station. “Mister Spock. Report.”
Spock straightened from his viewer. He looked over to where Kirk sat, the expectant look on his face fading a little into concern. Had Spock been anyone else, Kirk would have called the expression on his face almost... preoccupied. As it was, Spock blinked twice before responding.
“Spock?”
“Yes, Sir.” Spock straightened his shoulders, back ramrod straight. Kirk knew it was his way of reorienting himself, and the fact that Spock would show such a lapse on the bridge had Kirk inwardly reeling. He doubted that it was noticeable to the rest of the bridge crew, but to him the small slip was as loud as the red alert klaxon.
“Scans show no lifesigns on Veragon IV, per the previous report. With your permission, I would like to lead an away team down to the surface.”
“I believe I might accompany you, Mr. Spock.” Kirk heard the turbolift door open and knew it was Bones by the sound of his step. “Surely not even I can get into trouble if there’s nothing down there.”
“Ha. I’ll believe that when I see it.” Bones’ grumble was just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to be blatantly insubordinate. It was a fine line that he’d walked for most of the time Kirk had known him.
“Sir, as previously stated-”
“Save it, Spock. You’re not talking me out of this one. It’s just a planet. No lifesigns, no sign of distress, no earthquakes... not even an omnipotently taunting alien playing chess with the Federation. ” Kirk looked over to Chekov to confirm his last statement, grinning at the way the navigator nodded, watching his and Spock’s conversation go back and forth, as though watching a ping-pong tournament.
“Sir I do not believe that ‘omnipotently’ is an actual Standard word. ”
Kirk snorted. He looked over at Bones who was staring at him, brow creased in a scowl. “Don’t look at me. I’m a doctor, not a damn grammarian. I don’t know if any planet is safe when you’re on it, Jimmy boy, but I do know that you haven’t had leave in over three months. You were in sickbay the last time the crew had it. If there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on on that bit of dirt down there, then I say you can hold a tricorder as well as anybody.”
Spock simply cocked an eyebrow.
“Mister Sulu, you have the conn.” Kirk had to restrain himself from rocking back on his heels with excitement. As much as he loved his job, it would be nice to have some time with Spock on the deserted planet. Nice enough to override Spock’s obvious objections.
Spock followed him onto the turbolift and the two of them made their way to the transporter room as they’d done thousands of times before. Kirk stole a few glances at Spock out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t detect whether Spock was irate or not. Not that he would actually show it if he were really mad. Even during his pon far, he’d had a way of being remote, even when his body was out of control.
“Ready, Captain.”
“Thank you Ensign.” Kirk adjusted the strap of the tricorder and straightened his shoulders.
“Energize.”
Before he could blink, he and Spock had materialized onto the planet. He and Spock moved as one, turning so that their backs were to each other. Kirk blinked, taking in the sight before him. His eyelashes fluttered for a second in surprise as he gazed around them, breathing a soft “wow” of disbelief.
They were in a city.
Vehicles littered the streets, choking the avenues and boulevards with traffic locked perpetually in a state of motion, forever going nowhere. There did not seem to be any discernible power source. Kirk took a step forward, his senses on alert, even though it was obvious that whatever had happened here, had happened long enough in the past that he couldn’t help anyone. Ferns and other fauna choked much of the pavement, creeping up over streetlights and buildings as though the land was reclaiming its own space. Kirk watched as Spock bent to begin taking readings of the purple flowers that waved gently in the breeze.
“Curious, Captain. Whatever caused the sentient life forms on this planet to leave has not effected the abundance of plant life.”
Kirk raised his arm to rub at the back of his green wrap-around tunic, absently scratching at the synthetic material as he surveyed the buildings around him. It never ceased to amaze him that Starfleet could design starships to send people out into the black to boldly go and discover new and amazing things- but couldn’t design a goddamn uniform that didn’t have some manner of itchy fabric. Between the back stitching and the Captains braids on his wrist, Kirk felt like a little kid who had been given over-starched shirts at a family gathering.
“Let’s take some readings then. See if we can start to put together the puzzle.”
“Affirmative, Captain.”
The buildings seemed to tower over most of the small town square that they had beamed in to, casting strangely elongated shadows over most of the rest of the once-thriving city. Kirk scanned the material with his tricorder, eyes taking in the material used. It looked like a mixture of what was probably local granite and other materials. It almost reminded Kirk of stucco. He heard Spock walking off a little to his left and had to smile to himself. Even though he was going to be stuck here until Spock explored just about the whole damn hemisphere- which, actually, that reminded him.
“Spock? This is the only land mass on the planet built above ground, right? The scans from the ship showed that this was mostly a planet of water, right?”
“Indeed.”
“Are we sure that they didn’t just- go aground? I mean, just because we see buildings we think that they must have been deserted. But what if the predominant culture was indigenous to the ocean?”
Kirk was rewarded with the slow blink and slight twitching of lips that showed he had managed to surprise the Vulcan. Kirk ignored the way his heart leaped at the sight. Spock’s whole face had softened as he stared back at Kirk with warm brown eyes.
“An interesting theory, Captain.”
“Aw, come on. Surely you can call me Jim. We’re on duty, but we’re alone here. You don’t have to be so formal with me, you know.”
Kirk cursed himself as Spock blinked slowly again, turning and walking off to investigate some darker aqua vines without a word. Shit. He should have just kept his mouth shut. Frowning, Kirk started walking, continuing to examine the ground, buildings and objects that had long-since falling into disuse. His footsteps echoed strangely on the city’s streets.
His tricorder gave a strange sort of beep, before the screen flickered off and then quickly on. Kirk’s brow furrowed and he shook it slightly. “Damn thing,” he muttered under his breath. He caught a glimpse of out of the corner of his eye as something moved. It was so out of place on the deserted city streets that he froze, adrenaline spiking through his body.
The being that stood there was very small. She looked about ten years of Terran age. She stood calmly, the faint breeze stirring the gossamer of her dress. She had her fingers steepled together under her chest, with the pointer fingers against the hollow under her throat, and the back of her hands facing outward. Her eyes were slanted. She did not appear to have a nose. instead, a raised ridge gave her face a bisected look. Her ears were set at the top of her head, consisting of several bumps of cartilage that looked vaguely like horns to Kirk’s startled gaze.
The girl turned and walked away, her steps making no sound on the ground as she walked. She stopped about five meters away and looked back at Kirk. Jim heard a footstep and jumped a little when Spock’s fingers slid around his bicep. He jumped for another reason entirely when Spock leaned forward, his breath tickling Kirk’s ear as he spoke. “Captain. No readings on the tricorder.”
Well that was hardly a surprise. And honestly, it wasn’t the first time Kirk had shared a hallucination. Kirk was hyperaware that if he turned his head, even the smallest fraction, that Spock would be kissing his ear. He tried to beat that thought back before Spock picked up on it.
“She obviously wants us to follow her.”
“I do not know if that is wise.”
Kirk felt the adrenaline still whirring inside his gut, although if it was from the appearance of the strange alien or from the heat of Spock’s hand, he wasn’t sure. “Probably not, Mister Spock. But if she took the trouble to appear to us, then I think it’s only polite to follow her.” Kirk broke away from Spock’s hold and began walking after the being. “You coming?”
Kirk watched something flit across Spock’s face before he controlled himself, presenting the indifferent mask that he usually wore. He nodded once, glanced down at his tricorder, and began walking beside Kirk, both of them following the child-like being out of the city and into the unknown.
Chapter 3
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Date: 2012-01-25 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-25 02:39 am (UTC)