Story [Star Trek 2009] "East of the Sun" (UDC7) Week 17 up 8/11

Jade_eyes: It was a fun theme to string together, that's for sure. And any time you have Kirk and Spock and chess the giddy fangirl feelings are sure to follow. I'm glad you enjoyed.

RX_Sith: Perfectly said.

Daena: Again, thank-you for the thoughtful review! I would join you and McCoy in that toast, that's for sure. That's what made it so much fun to see Jim come full circle in the end.

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Author's Notes: Soooo, plans to write while on vacation never work out like they should. So, we have two weeks for the price of one here - and I hope you guys enjoy.

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Week VII: “all nine lives, and then some”​

XXXI. Stormy

“She'll hold through this, won't she, Mr. Scott?” Over the intercom, the Captain's voice was distorted and fuzzy due to the interference from the cosmic-storm. While their course through the nebula cluster was throwing their pesky pursuer, it was wrecking hell on their ship, even with his best efforts.

“You betcha, Captain!” Scotty replied as he fused together wires, coaxing that much more power from the core. The Enterprise gave a mighty shutter, and alarms rang ominously. His stomach turned stickly – his wee girl was not happy. Not happy at all.

He bit his lip, praying, “You here that, lassie? Hold together.”



XXXII. Trapped

Claustrophobia was a condition she had dealt with for most of her life – but one she had not think to aggravate in the wide and free planes of space. Now in the crashed landing pod, she could feel the walls too close around her, and the air was black and thin. All of a sudden she was eight years old and trapped with Kashore in the caves beneath Mt. Kenya again, and she couldn't breathe . . .

But then, there was a soothing presence at the back of her mind – like air and open spaces and sunlight, and Nyota concentrated on that until the wreck was cleared.



XXXIII. Escape

He had seen the orange and red flare of flames from the viewport, and fear had bite at his bones before fading – he could feel her, alive and unharmed. Only a curious sense of panic clung to her psyche, an unease that was for more than her current predicament. The urge to escape and claw her way free at any means possible hit him through their bond, along with fragments of memory . . .

Spock exhaled calmly then – first for himself and then for her, breathing deeply until he could feel her body mimic and match the rhythm he set until she was freed.



XXXIV. Rescue

“Of all of the harebrained, foolhardy stunts -”

“ - but it did get the Ennorians off of our back,” Kirk pointed out merrily.

“There is a saying about frying pans and fires,” McCoy grumbled as he fought with his parachute's harness again – caught as it was in the tangle of branches that hung conveniently over the nest of some alien bird that reminded McCoy of a pterodactyl from Earth's past . . .

And dammit all, but those teeth looked sharp – babies or not!

“Don't you worry,” Kirk chirped brightly. “We'll be rescued any minute now.”

A minute passed. The sounds of avian whistles grew louder.

“ . . . any minute now.”



XXXV. Recover

There was something disquieting about seeing their Captain small and pale against the white hospital bedding. The cool synthetic tubing, there to help him breathe seemed wrong as well . . . misplaced. McCoy had given a grim report, and the news that the other was not infallible – that he was mortal, with skin that broke and blood that spilled . . .

It was a curious emotion Spock felt, one that he examined carefully in order to better understand.

“I'm not dead,” Kirk finally said. His voice was thick. “I will heal.”

“Of course,” Spock replied automatically. “The odds favor your quick recovery.”

Slowly, Kirk's smile grew.

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Week VIII: “the path before you”​

XXXVI. Mistakes

She kept on waiting for him to tell her that it was a mistake, that he didn't mean it. But he was standing perfectly still before her, his head tilted just slightly to the right as he awaited her reaction. His hands were tense where they still held her own – where they still held her own - while against her mind, his thoughts were carefully closed.

But he didn't step back, and the words – mistake, didn't mean, never again – did not come. And so, Amanda stepped forward to kiss him again, delighting when, slowly but surely, his mind opened to hers and the world exploded in color.



XXXVII. Corrections

“I stand corrected,” Sandra said as she examined the ring on Amanda's finger. “I didn't know he had it in him.”

“I don't know,” Amanda said, bemused. “I would guess that he had help.”

Her sister's cheeks flushed pink, but she did not deny the accusation. “I may have been dubious in the beginning, but . . .” her words tapered off. “You do realize that it's not just me who's going to need their thoughts turned around?” she pointed out gently. “You guys have quite the road before you.”

Amanda nodded, her smile turning grimly – but determinedly - as she twisted the ring on her finger.



XXXVIII. Prank

“Is this what humankind would refer to as a joke?” T'Pau's face dipped delicately in confusion on the screen before him. “For I must inform you that it is in very poor taste.”

“There was no jest in my words,” Sarek replied. “I intend to take Amanda as my wife. Informing you was just a courtesy on my part.”

Her eyes narrowed, letting him know that he was on dangerous ground, angering the matriarch of his clan so . . . But with Amanda at stake, he would risk that and more. He tilted his head up, and let her see the challenge in his eyes.



XXXIX. Sabotage

“It's like she is intentionally provoking me!” Amanda exclaimed hotly. “She wants me perfectly poised and unemotional in public, and then she says something like that.” She made an angry gesture.

Behind her, she felt as Sarek's thoughts turned in disappointment. “She tests you purposefully, Amanda – better you learn such lessons from T'Pau rather than from someone with less noble motivations. Such encounters come with being my wife.”

“What, with being a Vulcan's wife?” Amanda retorted, lashing out in her frustration.

“No,” and hurt sparked in their bond, cooling her own anger as if it never was, “In being the wife of a diplomat.”



XL. Revenge

The halls of the Enterprise were cold to one who preferred the heat of Vulcan. And yet, the chill in the air matched the pain he felt in his mind . . . in his heart. He sat unblinking, staring out into the darkness of the stars.

He felt T'Pau's presence before he saw her. He stiffened out of reflex. “Have you come to rejoice at your victory?” he said – illogically, perhaps, but he could not keep the irrational thought contained.

T'Pau was silent in reply. The touch of her mind turned soothing then . . . it sought to heal. “No, Sarek. I came . . . to offer my condolences.”



~MJ

 

Jade_eyes: As always, your reviews completely invigorate me to write another round. I am so glad that so many wonderful things were spawned from that set!

RX_Sith: Thank-you.

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Week IX: “I have been, and always will be”​

XLI. Enemy

It was a new feeling for him, this hate.

It slithered across his bones like something living; sharing space with his blood, and rising with his lungs. His hands shook with repressed emotion; his brows knit, betraying his unease. To anyone who knew him, his white knuckles and tense shoulders spoke volumes – saying: he was not untouchable; he was not untouched.

What use was control – was logic - if it could not keep even the basest of emotions at bay? For a moment, Spock did not try to control what he felt, and he let himself hate Nero with both sides of his being.



XLII. Attack

Kirk had gone into pushing Spock's buttons knowing exactly what he hoped to achieve. He wanted the other to break open – to show the grief he could so clearly see welling in the other him's eyes.

What Kirk did not expect was for the half-Vulcan to pack such an impressive right hook.

Sure, Kirk had expected a tantrum – but he had thought that Spock would attack with his words, as he had done rather successfully before. And yet, as he touched the still tender skin around his bruised eye, Kirk couldn't exactly say that he blamed the other for hitting him instead.



XLIII. Negotiate

The crew of the Enterprise was as dented and tired as their ship during the long trip back to Earth, but Kirk felt an odd sort of warmth fill him when Spock came to visit him in the sickbay that first night. The even odder urge to apologize followed next - to mend and set things right . . . To negotiate with the universe for a second chance.

“Let's start over,” Kirk said, holding out his hand in a cease-fire. “My name is Kirk. James Tiberius Kirk.”

Spock clasped his hand in his own – even though he was Vulcan, and Vulcans did not touch. “And I am Spock.”



XLIV. Truce

“It's nice to see you two playing nice,” McCoy remarked wryly the next day as he checked Kirk's vitals.

Kirk rolled his shoulders. “We've decided on a truce – for the betterment of all.”

McCoy snorted. “Good. I don't think the universe was ready to take on the both of you trading blows any longer.”

Kirk smiled wryly. “No . . . the universe had other plans in mind,” he said, and at McCoy's curious gaze, he told his tale of times to come and times gone by . . .

And finally, McCoy blinked in wonder. “And to think I was just starting to get used to disliking him.”



XLV. Friend

Those first nights, though exhausted, they slept but little. Instead Nyota curved into Spock, keeping awake in a silent vigil. He did not close his eyes, and she spent her unwaking hours caressing his back and threading her fingers through his hair - doing anything she could to help with the grief filling his mind.

That night, his eyes were thoughtful - thoughtful, but not lost in memory. A smile stole across her face as she understood, feeling the curiosity of his emotions as they rippled across hers. “I think you are starting to like him,” she whispered.

A heartbeat. “Perhaps,” Spock exhaled. “A very little.”



~MJ

 

RX_Sith: Thanks.

Jade_eyes: What's mine is yours! You know I can't wait to see what you come up with from these.

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Week X: "from the outside in"​

XLVI. Sky

“You, my friend, have been keeping secrets from me.”

“In what way, Gaila?”

“In every way that matters! I just had my first lecture with Commander Spock, and you are caught!”

“What didn't I tell you? . . . I told you that he's an excellent speaker, and as one of the best minds of our generation, it is an honor to be taught by him.”

“You are helpless! Because – by my stars and skies - that man was all white chocolate poured into a candy coating. He was delicious, and you've never mentioned that before?!”

“Gaila . . .”

“Come on, Ny! Tell me you didn't notice and I will rescind my ire.”

“ . . .”

“Ha!”



XLVII. Sun

Gaila saw the world in color.

In her mind's eye, she saw people in a veritable spectrum. Of that spectrum, she partook from colors that matched her own - calming and soothing her psyche with the touch and trade of pheromones.

But, on days when she needed peace – and wished to regulate her physiology without uping on her dose of suppressors – she would sit on the side of the communications center as Nyota and the Commander went over the latest sensor relays. There she'd bask in the golden glow they gave off – like a world growing warm under the heat of the sun - and know contentment.



XLVIII. Moon

“You haven't stopped smiling since she walked into the room.”

“I must admit myself ignorant to your meaning.”

“Okay, you are not smiling, but your eyes are smiling – and I mean that in an abstract way, Spock. Roll with it.”

“I am familiar enough with the expression, Captain.”

“Then you must be familiar enough with the concept of lying to know that your nose is growing. You are over the moon, truly madly deeply -”

“ - I am unsure what the size of my nose has to do with my perceived truthfulness?”

“ . . . now you're just acting oblivious on purpose. And they say Vulcans don't have a sense of humor.”



XLVIX. Stars

They were flying through a cluster of infant stars. The billowing clouds of gas were full of light and life – awe inspiring as they burned on in the start of their lives. The Enterprise had slowed to a slow idle in order to leave the fledgling giants undisturbed, giving them a perfect view of the phenomena right beyond them.

Spock had been sitting quietly beside her the whole time, his hand playing idly in her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, surrounded by warmth and starlight and the quiet hum of his mind against hers, and knew peace.



L. Lightning

Sometimes, being around the pair of them was like being too close to lightning – feeling heat and light and waiting for the sound of thunder to follow. Spock smiled his best not-smile when around her, and Nyota bit her lip as if amused by something only she could hear – and Kirk knew.

His skin crackled – itching like there was too much energy in the room, tangible and electric. His mouth cut into his cheek from where he smiled. They don't notice his noticing – they never did – and Kirk turned from them with an amused shake of his head, happy for both of his friends.



~MJ

 

RX_Sith: Thank-you.

Jade_eyes: This week was so much fun to write, and I am thrilled that you enjoyed it!

Daena: Why thank-you.

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Week XI: "which grows stronger still"​

LI. Fun

The beech gathering was all the pounding of the Pacific and the warmth of the sand under her feet. As the sun set, the bonfire grew brighter, blazing as rings of red and gold before her eyes as George spun her in a dance. She laughed and stumbled in the sand, tangling her fingers with his.

She could still feel where his hand pressed against her skin, even after the dance's end. Her spine preserved the memory.

Winona bit her lip, shaking her head. A bit too much fun in the sun for you today. Still, her skin tingled.



LII. Play

It was a game they had played since he first started taking her to such diplomatic functions. On the outside, Amanda would collect her thoughts and school her features into an appropriate mask.On the inside though, she pushed a steady barrage of thoughts to Sarek – observations, anecdotes, and quips – all in an effort to see him break his facade. To see him smile.

It was a game he played better than her – and more than once Amanda would have to explain her random snorts of laughter while Sarek looked on, seemingly as bewildered as the rest of the partygoers.



LIII. Laugh

At first, the Vulcan colony had been eerie in its silence.

Spock told himself that he had simply spent too long with a primarily human crew. He expected laughter. He expected noise. The quiet hum of a people rebuilding was unnerving, as if they too were amongst those who had fallen.

It was illogical, but -

From across the red sand, he heard the high, clear trill of Nyota's laughter - responding to something Kirk had said to break the mood. At his side, Sarek had tilted his head, and Spock waited.

“She has a pleasing laugh,” Sarek remarked, before continuing on with his task.



LIV. Games

“I did not think it a game you would enjoy,” Spock admitted, looking down at the chessboard Kirk had in his quarters.

Kirk raised a brow. “Now who's judging a book by its cover?” he asked, his smile teasing.

Spock tilted his head. “Perhaps I simply did not have all of the variables,” he admitted. He took a seat before the game and advanced his queen's pawn. “Which is an oversight I would like to rectify now.”

Kirk grinned. “Are you sure you're up for this?”

Spock tilted his head. “I believe that the human expression is 'bring it on'.”



LV. Vacation

His first shoreleave took McCoy home. The southern summer was warm, and he pulled at his collar, unused to the heat after the regulated coolness of the starship.

He waited in the yard, but did not wait long before his daughter came bounding out – Joanna threw herself into his arms, and he staggered to catch her. Letters just didn't do justice to the fact that she was now so tall. She laughed, and he tilted his head to catch the changes in her voice.

Blaming his tears on the sunlight, McCoy hugged his girl back, resolving to come sooner next time.



~MJ

 

Jade_eyes: As always, your exubarence is catching! Our ladies have taste, that is all I'm saying.

RX_Sith: Thank-you very much.

Nat: This challenge is passing by so quickly it seems! I understand. But I am glad to know you are still enjoying these.

I read that and went "Kirk!" A perfect fit

Because obviously.

But I love the set! I'm starting to seriously 'ship Sarek/Amanda

And there is so much to love about them. The relationship that started it all.

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Week XII: "Once Called"​

LVI. See

It came easily to him; numbers and facts and figures. His mind looped through the intangibles, the impossibities, and wove together what was and what could be in the formulas before him. He could see the way things merged together - like stars could see their infinite paths in the night sky. A peculiar mental aptitude for mathematics and sciences, his teachers on Vulcan had called it – gifted, Amanda whispered into his ear like a secret.

Sarek said nothing other than a raising a brow, but Spock could feel the flicker of thought from him: my son, and it was enough.



LVII. Hear

Growing up, her father would sing her to sleep in a different language every night; filling her child's mind with the images of exotic peoples and far off worlds - all bound together by the ability to pass on thought as sound, one person to the next.

I'll learn them all one day, Nyota had declared in the way of children – absolute in the face of impossibility.

A great many of them, no doubt, her father gave, eyes twinkling, and that night he sang to her in a tongue called Ju'i – all sweet syllables and rolling tones until she could listen no more.



LVIII. Touch

You come from a line of steady hands, his father had told him – all pride and glittering eyes as he spoke. Fixin' things is in your blood – you have a healer's touch.

For the body had its secret and untouchable places – it had its tells and gives the same as anything else in life, and McCoy became adept in exposing those mysteries. He kept breath to lungs and beats to hearts – all steady hands and a healer's touch.

Stitching a body back together again was the easy part, he found – it was the bedside manner that took some getting used to.



LVIX. Sense

It was a sixth sense for him – a knowing that hit him whenever the chips were stacked and the decisions he made were life or death. It was a sense that told him when to duck, when to roll, when to hold on tight or charge forward, all holds bared, in order to get himself and those he cared for out on the other side. It let him rise when others said fall.

So James T. Kirk leapt where others would stand still, and fate always seemed to find a way to catch him before he hit the bottom.



LX. Smell

Sometimes, he was certain he could smell the problem, even before the great lady told to him her hurts though electric pulses and scans.

While around him, the Enterprise was all steel and starlight, underneath his hands she was flesh and bones. Scotty listened to her woes, felt her pains as his own, and in turned he fixed her up as best as he could – readying her to face their next turn amongst the stars.

Kirk may have been the ship's soul, but Scotty was her heart – and he made sure it would beat as long as he still stood.



~MJ

 

RX_Sith: Aww thanks. These prompts jumped out at me, and I immediately knew what I wanted to write.

Jade_eyes: He creates his own luck, that's for sure! Kirk definitely bears some Corellian qualities, in more way than one.

Daena: Thank-you! I love, love, love McCoy, and it was sweet to show him with Joanna. I can only imagine a long distance parenting situation from space! And Scotty, his love is that ship, there ain't no question about that.

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Week XIII: “given in return”​

XLI. Past

“Think about it this way,” McCoy said, refilling Kirk's glass. “Sure - in another life, you knew your father. But, in another world the Kelvin could have been destroyed completely – killing all of you. Or, you could have died from the stress of labor - leaving your mother both childless and a widow. Life is full of 'what-ifs', kid – sometimes, it's best just to take what fate gives you and hold on tight with both hands.”

“How is that working out for you?” Kirk asked, trying to smile.

“I'll tell you when I'm done,” McCoy answered, and threw his drink back.



XLII. Present

The first child was born to the Vulcan colony a mere month after its formation. Spirits, which had been those of a race rebuilding, were high as the child – a little girl, healthy and somber – was passed from family to family, her parents sharing with all the joy of one.

When life took such turns, it was the small miracles that made moving on that much easier – learning to live in the present, day by day, until the blows dealt by fate became bearable.

“A small step forward,” Sarek shared when passing the news to Spock. “But a step, nonetheless.”



XLIII. Future

“Her name is T'Rahkel,” Spock said, turning the screen towards Nyota, “meaning for the future.”

“She's beautiful,” Nyota cooed, reaching out as if she could touch the child.

Spock tilted his head. “She is healthy, with respiratory and vascular readouts as normal. She shall develop adequately.”

Nyota raised a brow. “Code for: she is lovely,” she teased, her eyes soft upon the newborn. Spock looked curiously from her to the screen, an odd warmth settling in his mind - shared through their bond. After a moment, Nyota turned away, smiling as if she held a secret past his ability to comprehend.



XLIV. Memories

Though her first pregnancy was difficult, their child was healthy and developing naturally – much to Nyota's relief, who had been worried after heard about Amanda's fight to bring Spock into the world alongside some very talented geneticists. At her side, her husband bore through her aches and pains and cravings – everything made worth it for that moment of unsurpassed wonder that came with feeling their child kick for the first time.

Sarek watched the awe on his son's face as he spoke, his smile sad with memories. “Cherish these moments,” he whispered. “For they will be gone all too soon.”



XLV. Expectations

After a harrowing delivery in a crashed landing pod, Kirk was able to hold the newest addition to his crew while the child's parents partook in some much needed rest.

Grayson was all warm caramel skin, pointed ears, and a fuzz of hair that was unbelievably soft to the touch. He was so small, and Kirk could not keep from smiling as he rocked the infant, the thrill of the little life in his arms nearly tangible to the touch.

Yes, he thought as the baby grasped his fingers, this life had taken much, but it had also given much in return.



~MJ