Nobody
A Star Trek Fan Fiction
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Prologue
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The beady eyes of the statuette seemed to bore into Spock's own as he appraised the object with impassiveness. His young hands rolled the figurine over to observe the simple markings on the back and found nothing complicated to peak his interest. He tried looking back into its face, but the stoic expression merely echoed his own. Spock's knowledge of foreign cultures identified the item in his hand as a statue of Inuit origin; one of Earth's ancient cultures that had long since died out. What Spock couldn't figure out was the object's purpose in his mother's artifact cupboard. The figure was made in the last century, obviously not ancient or valuable in any respect; perhaps his mother was victim of some forgery?
"Spock." Came a gentle reprimand from the doorway, throwing the young Vulcan out of his thoughts.
Instantly the object was back on its designated shelf looking as if it had been there all along; only a slight wobble could have proved otherwise. From his mother's vantage point, Spock was certain it escaped her notice. The boy stood from his kneeling position and with one minute gesture of grace he managed to close the cupboard with his foot.
"Yes Mother?"
Her lips were set in a serious frown, but the expression didn't meet her eyes. It was well known in Shi'Kahr that Amanda had a soft spot as wide as the sky for her only son.
"What have I told you about being in the study?"
Spock denied himself the reflex of looking to his feet like a shamed human child and instead focused on a point on the wall. The only difficulty with this option was finding a spot that didn't wholly distract him. Everywhere his dark eyes glanced was a piece of art, or a bookshelf, or a holograph that demanded his attention. It was so rare an opportunity to be present in his father's workplace that Spock couldn't stop from absorbing what he could.
Amanda sighed. With a determined tread, the woman crossed the room and gently gripped Spock's chin. She was forced to stoop in order to keep eye contact with the child, but now his face wasn't going anywhere she didn't want it to. "I told you that you must ask permission in order to enter here. If your father saw you poking your nose into things you shouldn't I'm the one that has to save you from a night of condescending stares."
"I was admiring your collection. My nose was not near your artifacts."
"Your nose was in this room Spock. That is what is forbidden."
Spock turned his face away just as Amanda dropped her hand from his chin. His little mind was working furiously for a weakness he could exploit.
"Then may I request permission to be in here for five more minutes?" This was practically his father's living quarters; such a place was innately fascinating to the small Vulcan. Surely his mother would understand that?
Amanda tried not to laugh at the question and instead rose to her full height and shook her head. "You're not getting away with asking after the fact. You need to learn to control that curiosity of yours before it gets you into real trouble. Come on, go find somewhere else to play or you can come and help me prepare dinner."
The idea seemed displeasing to Spock. "Can we not compromise?"
The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously and sighed yet again, "...and it's been said that you have no interest in diplomacy, and yet here you are negotiating terms. You have admired my collection enough for the time being. I will not ask you again to remove yourself from the study." Her tone was serious now, and Spock knew that his pressing the point was not going to prove effective. Instead he opted for a different tactic that would still gain the desired effect.
He stepped forward and stuck his nose in the air. "I believe that one of your relics is a forgery, and if you give me ample time to inspect the object I can acquire the necessary proof." His voice was monotone - precise and clear. It made curiosity cross the firm countenance of his mother. She went to her artifact cupboard and took a look within before glancing back to her son with an eyebrow raised. Spock was not known to lie.
"All right kiddo, I'll bite. Which one is a forgery?"
Spock instantly pointed to the Inuit figure; his rigid composure falling apart as his excitement at having won his mother over dominated his actions. "This figure's composition is modern, most of the base is synthetic materials whilst the eyes are a metal that can only be found on Cellus III. This piece is hardly native to Earth, unlike the rest of your collection."
Amanda chuckled as she daintily took the Inuit figure into her hands. "Oh Spock... sometimes I wonder if you'll ever learn about value outside of what you read in a textbook."
Obviously this was not the reaction Spock had intended to witness. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he looked to his mother with an almost desperate need to comprehend. "I do not understand."
The woman gazed lovingly at the sculpture for a moment before gently pressing it into her son's hands. The positive emotions she had been bottling within her heart transferred the moment their fingers touched and the boy looked uncomfortable. Spock knew immediately that his mother prized this simple statue above all else in her collection, but why? He looked up at her, silently pleading for an answer.
He knew instantly from that coy expression of hers, that Amanda was going to make him work for the information. "This piece holds little or no value to any market in the known universe, and yet it means a lot to me. Why do you think that is?"
Spock frowned slightly and looked to the figurine. "Because you are an emotional creature and have developed an illogical attachment to this item?"
"That's one way of putting it..." Amanda grumbled and crossed her arms; she was hoping his answer would have been a lot less Vulcan. "You're picking up some interesting opinions of your father I see."
"..."
The woman ruffled her son's hair and started to guide him out of the study. The boy made a gesture as he intended to give the statuette back, but Amanda wouldn't accept it.
"I don't think so. That little guy is now yours. He's your punishment for wandering where you shouldn't have wandered - a sort of medieval 'ball and chain'." She shut the heavy door with a snap, making Spock's shoulders drop a fraction in disappointment.
"I am finding you incomprehensible yet again Mother."
Amanda walked at her son's pace down the long hallway which led into their spacious living room. "I'm giving you the responsibility of turning this nobody into a somebody."
Silence seemed to answer her as Spock became more confused. It only made Amanda more entertained and she continued with relish. "You see, the item in your hands is only an object... but you can make it a treasure. It is a physical representation of a long dead race... but you can make it an individual. Currently that little fisherman has only a face and a bleak future sitting in my relic cabinet... but you can give him a life, a past, a name."
"What if I do not wish to?" The boy tilted his head to better search his mother's face.
She wrinkled her nose and tenderly tugged at his pointed ear. "Most boys don't wish to follow through with their punishments, but I have a feeling you will... or else."
"Your argument contains a fallacy; you are attempting to appeal to me using fear."
"Is it working?"
"Negative."
Amanda wondered if her son would ever grow out of how blunt he could be at times. "How about, 'or else I'll tell your father'?"
"Aa. That would be effective." Spock exclaimed with a note of understanding before stopping in mid-step to stare at the statue yet again. There was one more thing he couldn't figure out about the object, but he didn't know how to phrase the question so that his mother wouldn't be able to give him a cryptic answer. Amanda continued to pass him in order to head towards the kitchen while a smile danced on her lips as Spock called after her. "Mother, what do the symbols on the back of it mean?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out, but I'll give you a clue..."
He should have thought of something less straight-forward. The woman disappeared from view and Spock was forced to perk his ears in order to hear her over the sudden sound of running water. "The language used is a variation on Inuktitut!"
Spock frowned and slowly made his way to his room, pondering the useless task his mother had given him. It took him seconds to pick up his handheld computer and access its extensive database on ancient Terran cultures. Inuit was relatively easy, but the symbol conversion wasn't. Apparently there were a hundred different variations of this particular language. For the bulk of the conversion, he transferred the relevant information over to his father's tricorder and used the scanning function to instantly get an accurate translation.
For my darling Grand-daughter,
May you find this culture as interesting as the Mayans
- David Grayson
With major disappointment, Spock sat down on his bed and glared at the little Inuit man. It must have been some sort of present from his great-grandfather to his mother, which explained his mother's emotional connection to it. Perhaps there was some story behind who this statue was depicting? He started his research with vigor. Hours later Spock come up with nothing and sat cross-legged on his floor, the figure stood before him with an almost guilty expression on its craggy face.
"She wants me to invent you," he said with an almost impatient drawl. "I do not have time to play with dolls."
After a few minutes of trying to preoccupy himself with an issue of the latest VSA magazine, Spock's eyes flitted back to the fisherman. He slipped off his bed and stared down at him as if he were a giant and the statue were a miniature challenger. He appraised at the Inuit man for a moment before tipping the thing over so it laid on its back. With a huff of annoyance the boy decided to humor his mother and attempt to make this nobody into a somebody. Spock sat down heavily and leaned in to examine the figure yet again.
"Who are you, fisherman?" he whispered, a small part of him feeling very ashamed to be talking to himself. He looked to his closed door, then back to his subject.
"I suppose it would be logical to start with a name." The child paused, allowing for inspiration to hit him. It surprised him how quickly everything came – the name, the personality, the story.
"It will be David, after my great-grandfather who unknowingly put me into this situation." Spock's lips twitched somewhat smugly before he proceeded. "You will be the hero of your people - strong, confident, courageous, self-sacrificing. You will be admired throughout your world..."
"You will be somebody."
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Author's Note:
All right. A new story, a new catergory and an entirely new mood. This is just a bit of foreshadowing and a taste of my writing style for those who haven't been previously exposed. The next chapter will be jumping straight into the story which will be told from Jim's perspective. This story will have an AU feel, though it could work in the 2009 storyline (hence why I stepped out of my TOS comfort zone). Hope you like it! Unlike some of my other works I put a lot of effort into this story, especially in proof-reading. Please feel free to point out any errors you find along the way whether they be plot, grammar or spelling based.
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