A/N. I love the movie so much and I'm a major trekkie and I had this idea in my head since I watched the movie and I thought that I would share it with you! If there is anything that you don't understand about the story so far don't be afraid to review and I'll reply, also review if you want me to continue and also constructive criticism is welcomed.


Sticks and Stones

Chapter 1


When that black hole encased her planet, she had felt the lives of the billions end. She had felt their pain, their anguish as they died. And she will never be able to forget that. She hadn't even been able to do anything about it, she couldn't even save her parents nor her grandparents lives. It was her fault for their deaths, their blood was on her hands, because she didn't try hard enough. She had been off planet, positioned at the Star Fleet Academy on earth. Training to be a tactical officer in London, safe and sound and away of harm's way when the inevitable happened. She just couldn't protect them.

She had heard her mother's screams, felt her pain, because she was half Betazoid; she could feel others emotions as easily as her own. A gift and a curse when being half Vulcan, trying to represses emotions was more difficult and required meditation on a daily basis. Her mother had taught everything that she knows; how to fight, how to be calm in the most stressful of situations and, most of all, how to escape the eyes of the Vulcans around her. Now, all of that seemed useless without the presence of her mother.

She had not seen much of her father when growing up, sometimes she even believed that she didn't have one. But, whenever she looked in a mirror she knew that he existed for she looked like him, a Vulcan. She had the trademark eyebrows and pointed ears, however her eyes were blue and light, most unlike the Vulcan children around her. And for that tiny difference, she had to pay a price.

She didn't have any friends growing up on Vulcan, many of the children ignored her. The deemed her as different, odd, and many are afraid of the unknown. She was bullied as a child, though her mother always told her 'sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you' and she would smile and make everything okay. Now that could never happen again.

Her mother had not been at her Graduating Ceremony, nor had any of her family. Her sister who survived the attack on Vulcan didn't turn up either. She had to watch the other cadets embrace their loved ones when just she couldn't, not because she was part Vulcan, but because they were all gone. Dead.

She had not been on the best of terms with her parents when she left Vulcan, they had been disappointed that she wasn't Vulcan enough, that she didn't want to follow the 'Vulcan way'. Though, she could tell that her mother was secretly proud that she rebelled and went against her father's wishes, even though she would never admit it. And, in the end, her mother took those feelings to her grave.


Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep…


Was the degrading drone of her alarm clock, ringing in regular intervals and causing havoc on her ear drums. She flicked open her eyes, her eye lids being pried open. She placed her hand over the metal, silencing the machine with just one touch.

She stood up and changed into her Academy uniform; black top and jacket with black trousers. She had requested that her uniform be changed from a dress to trousers since it restricted her movement and she had to teach the cadets how to fight, to protect themselves. Her superiors had complied and allowed her to dress as such without much protesting because they knew it was a battle that they could not win.

However, before she could teach at the Academy, she needed to collect some documents for her superiors at Section 31. She neither knew what were inside the documents, nor what they were needed for, but she followed orders anyway.

It wasn't a long distance from her flat to the building, so she decided to walk to her destination as it was a bright day, most unusual for London, and she needed the fresh air.


She walked down the busy streets of London, narrowly avoiding racing hover-cars driving recklessly down the highway. People were crowded everywhere, some human, some not. All packed into the pavements of the streets, shoulder to shoulder with each other. This made the Vulcan uncomfortable, walking so close to strangers, being able to feel their emotions in every sensor, literally smell them. Sometimes she wished that they would repress their own emotions just so she didn't have to bother, though that was a selfish thought, so she quickly put it out of mind.

She was a couple of blocks away from her destination when, most unexpectedly, she was thrown backwards with a force that couldn't be reckoned with. Her body hit the pavements, as did many others. However, most received more damage than her.

She heard the crack before she even felt it, the bone of her arm snapping into two as she landed awkwardly on the limb. White noise filled her ears, as he head hit the stone. She could see people around her scrambling away, could see the traffic coming to a stop, but she could not hear it.

She examined the situation in her mind, internally grateful that it was only her arm that was broken and not her spine. Her mind was a haze, but she quickly got it under control as a Vulcan would do. Her senses gradually returned, and she pulled herself onto her feet, holding her limp broken arm with her other hand.

She noticed some people around her, still unconscious, though greatly hurt. She pulled some out of the rubble with her unharmed hand, getting them out of harm's way. She looked around for the source of the destruction, only then noticing that it had been her target which had gone up in flames.

She inhaled a shaky breath at the destruction before her, men and women were both screaming, some in agony, some in shock. Some in fear.

Fear. An emotion that is chosen, an emotion that can be repressed. And right now, fear was not an option for her. Fear is an illusion, fight or flight. Though danger is very much real, but fear is not, fear is a choice.

She continued forward, searching for survivors, but finding less and less. As she got closer, that's when she noticed the dead bodies. Most crushed by rubble and glass, some burned to death from the explosion and died from their wounds.

"Espera, thank god you're alright…" A man came limping from behind her and grabbed onto her shoulder, steading himself. He was also in Starfleet uniform, though he looked considerably older than her. He had grey hair where brown locks used to be, wrinkles where time has aged him, but his compassion was never ending.

"Admiral Pike." She addressed him. "I appreciate your concern, but I am unharmed."

He looked up and down her, not believing a word that she had spoken from experience with the Vulcan, eyes falling upon her arm that she was clutching.

"Then what's that then?"

"…I- I am mostly unharmed, nothing vital." She answered, frowning slightly when she started to feel the pain originating from her limb. Dust covered her face, and a small gash branded her forehead, the cut reaching her hairline. The small droplets of green blood were flowing down into her eyebrow as she looked at the Admiral.

"Come on, we need to get you to a hospital." He spoke, singling her to follow him. She started walking behind Pike, looking around for any survivors with no avail. Though, she was pulled from her thoughts when another shoulder slammed into hers.

"Sorry." She spoke instinctively, acting on impulse as it was polite for a human to apologise for any act of violence, as she had observed about the culture from the years of living on the planet.

Pain shot through her arm at the force of the hit, her lips parting at the unexpected ache that followed the hit, as she looked around for the source.

For a moment her eyes met azure ones, full of anger, hate, loathing and an emotion that she couldn't identify. He was tall, considerably so. His dark, matted hair covered his eyes as he glared at her. Strands of her shoulder-length urban hair got caught in her eyes as she flinched slightly at his intense gaze, though she brushed if off as if nothing happened.

He spared a glance at her, then ran off, not looking behind and not apologising.

She thought nothing of it, as it was just seconds, and jogged to catch up with the Admiral. She was still clutching her broken limb, but did not show the pain thorough her stone-cold mask as the agony raced through her like a fire in her veins.


A/N. So what do you think of her? Used a bit of a quote from After Earth since it was an awesome quote. Reviews would be appreciated c: