Authors Note – having a major Star Trek phase right now (ob-sessed!) and had this idea for my first songfic (of sorts, basically have the chorus playing in your head as no good at integration! Not the right meaning I know but kinda made me think of this idea) centring around NuSpock and his relationship to his mother and homeworld after thier death. Hope it doesn't suck and you like! If you do please r and r (pleeese!) J. The song lyrics belong to Passenger and ST reboot to Paramount and JJ Abrams so I own nothing but Spock's thoughts here (I own nothing, Copyright Laws, you happy now?). Don't forget Gene Roddenberry who started it all back in the 60s! Plus Leonard Nimoy, who practically invented everything cool about Vulcans. I'll shut up now…
"Only hate the road when you're missin' home/Only know you love her when you let her go/And you let her go"
Spock barely heard the voice of Acting Captain Kirk over the Enterprise's PA system as he exited the turbolift on deck 17. He was vaguely aware that the young man was in the process of countermanding Spock's last orders but was not overly concerned at this point, so preoccupied by his own inner turmoil was he. Puzzled faces turned towards him in the corridors, wondering why the first officer had abandoned his post at such a time, leaving a third year cadet who was in the middle of a disciplinary hearing at the Academy to take charge of the ship. He was unaware of having a destination but he found himself standing inside the transporter room, mercifully empty of crewmembers.
Spock was a Vulcan and to be Vulcan was to exercise constant, vigilant control over one's emotions, to view everything logically and dispassionately. He had been taught this from his earliest youth. When he had asked his father as a young child why it was necessary he had replied that the deep feelings of their race required the development of such a culture. He had learned how dangerous loss of control could be. He felt quite sure that he would have been capable of killing James Kirk just now if not for his father's steadying influence. In his adult life, he had been as able to fulfil this precept of self regulation as any other of his species until today.
Normally a place of calm, Spock's mind was a mess of emotion, his grief given an almost visceral quality by the telepathic link Vulcans had to their homeworld and blood ties and rage at the renegade Nero for inflicting such a crime against him and his people. He had not quite forgiven Kirk for exacerbating this state either. Had the cadet exploited it for his own interests or to prevent those orders of Spock's he had considered unwise? Humans, for all their expressiveness, had more mysterious motives than Vulcans, who would always take the logical course. Not for the first time, he was confused about how to deal with his feelings and those of others. And he only now realised that the one person who had always been able to understand and advise or support him was dead, having failed to materialise on the very transporter pad he stood on only hours previously. Perhaps that was why he had been drawn here in such emotional need, to where his mother should have been.
The truth brought a new unwelcome emotion: guilt. After all, she hadn't failed, he had. Failed to save her and the rest of his home. He had carelessly let her go at the wrong moment and had had to watch as she fell into the newly forming abyss, beyond transporter range. It was illogical to expect one person to be able to accomplish saving a whole world along against such odds but he felt he could at least have managed one more life. How many had survived? His best estimate had been only 10,000 individuals in a once thriving, productive race of billions. The Vulcan homeworld and its people had been such an intrinsic part of their culture that Spock wondered if it could survive. They would have to adapt to a radically new life, abruptly brought into closer contact with people who thought and, more pointedly felt, completely differently. For his own part, Spock thought of the mountains near his home city of Shi'Kahr where he had completed his kahs-wan with the aid of his cousin, the house he had lived in as a child and his mother's lovingly tended garden where they had spent many hours. Having been relieved of duty by regulations, he was left alone, even more alone than he had been in his life, lost in his own thoughts.
"..your mother. I married her because I loved her…"
His father's passionate declaration had been startling. However, the words had had a calming effect on him. It had also made him realise that control of feelings was very different from removal. He remembered a time he had considered the emotional purge of kohlinhar as well as entry into the Science Academy, such was his wish to compensate for his part humanity. Such a measure seemed very unwise now. He deeply regretted voicing his contemplation of it to his mother. She had said she would always be proud of him, whatever his choices (a most illogical yet characteristic sentiment) but it would certainly have been painful for her to have a son who could no longer feel love towards her and he felt that joining Starfleet had been a much better choice.
She had known before he had decided himself, had already made arrangements for him to leave for Earth. He had never had to explain anything to her. The irony of the fact that the parent he had chosen to least resemble knew and understood him best did not escape Spock. Now she was gone, perhaps he could build a better balance between his two halves, combine their philosophies while helping the Vulcan race heal. A new life. It was some time later he felt the sensation of liquid on his face and realised, for the first time since he was an infant, he had cried for his mother. He stared at the salty solution on his hand, arching a slanted eyebrow as he realised the emotions had cleared away. That by expressing them privately, they had been controlled. Fascinating he mused. He had also realised he had much to discuss with Nyota. Another time, the current situation and the rescue of Earth and Captain Pike takes clear priority. So he returned to the bridge a few moments later full of new resolve and purpose, as usual the epitome of efficiency, ready to assist his temporary Captain. "See, we are getting to know each other" Kirk said with a smile, giving him a slap on the shoulder that was evidently meant to express camaraderie. Spock thought that that sentiment could have been applied to his two halves as well…
Wow, that got a bit angsty! Did I completely butcher the characterisation of our favourite green-blooded hobgoblin? XD
