A Part of Both Worlds
by Idra Angea
Disclaimer – I own nothing... except for the plot and OC.
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An Unexplained Feeling
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Amidst the hot steam and bright blue sparks that spewed from every corner of the large and unbearably warm room, several young men and women worked diligently in what appeared to be sections of a replicated engine room. Each face glistened with sweat, all wearing the same bright blue jumpsuit and headband while they picked and carefully prodded at large pieces of scrap devices.
"Excited?"
The man glanced to the side at the shorter woman beside him, grinning widely.
"June?"
She didn't seem to have heard him, and after a few seconds before he was convinced that she didn't, he prodded her by the shoulder.
Realizing that the question had been hers to answer, the young woman turned her head to stare at her assigned partner. Her back was hunched forward, her face previously close to the large scrap of metal. "Excited over what?" After reaching past him for the wrench, she moved her face closer again toward the compressor that lay in front of them and started loosening a bolt.
"About joining Starfleet next year." Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he leaned back against the panel and crossed his arms. "I tried getting you pumped about it over breakfast."
"Then why ask again?"
"Because you didn't seem excited the last time and you should be?" From the corner of her eye, she could see him slide closer to her. "Put that spanner down for a second and talk to me."
"Miles..." Her hand pausing over the scrap, June straightened her back and frowned deeply at him. "You do realize that we're in the middle of a test? If you're so excited about moving onto Starfleet, you should be worried about passing this exam."
"Jesus -- we've done all we can!" Miles motioned his hands toward the compressor. "All the bolts are secured, there's nothing faulty in the interior, and we've tested the damn thing enough times to see that it's working fine!"
"It's not. The performance is still a little weak and the last thing to tweak is under that stubborn bolt... If that is your definition of working fine, then maybe you should think twice about joining Starfleet."
Miles stared back at her with a half-hearted glare before returning his attention on the object. "This is stupid, though. Picking apart and reassembling a compressor's a complete waste of time. Besides... this kind is dead technology. Why couldn't they let us work on the ones used in Starfleet?"
"Because --" she let out a grunt as she used both hands to grip the handle of the wrench, "You can't learn calculus without knowing simple addition and subtraction."
"Whatever the hell that means."
"In other – words --" A trail of sweat ran down her forehead and into her eye, causing her to blink several times while securing her foot in the bottom part of the machine. Using her weight for added strength, her other foot lifted off the ground, "It's stupid to learn modern – ugh... equipment without diving into their foundations first."
After one final grunt, the large bolt was loosened.
June stepped back on the floor, unable to contain the satisfied smirk on her face. She turned and saw the strange look on her friend's face.
For several seconds, Miles stared at her with both brows raised. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"That!" he pointed to the disfigured bolt on her palm. "The bolt was welded on!"
"It was only welded on one side."
"But I couldn't even get it out before you tried!"
"That's because you gave up."
Miles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to comment, but all words died in his throat when his friend suddenly doubled over in pain.
Having dropped her wrench, June leaned forward and placed her hands against the compressor. Tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes, which Miles noticed before her shoulder-length curls curtained forward to hide her face. It was as if something had entered her mouth and pushed all the air from her lungs, forcing the breath out of her. It felt impossible to breathe, impossible to cry out for help, and to her horror, she could see nothing but her hands resting on top of the compressor. Everything around her, including Miles, blurred from her vision.
She could hear him shout her name, could feel his hands gripping her arm, but his voice was so hazy that it was as if he was calling from a far distance. What's happening to me? she screamed over and over in her mind, failing to notice that she was screaming it out in front of the students that began to crowd around.
Dying. It was the only explanation she could think of as tears continued to spill down her face.
She was dying.
--
"Was she sick at all this morning?" the professor panted, running down the corridor with Miles struggling to keep up from behind.
"No – she was fine all day!" The younger man was gasping for air, jerking his shoulder up to balance the woman's weight when she began to dangerously slip off his shoulder. They made a sharp turn to the right, shouting at several people ahead to make way before darting through them.
They ran passed another crowd and made one more turn before reaching the doors to the infirmary. The doctor, who was currently tending to a patient, looked up and quickly weaved around the bed to stride toward them. "What happened?" He led them to an unoccupied bed for Miles to settle her down on.
"We don't know," the professor answered, frowning.
"Do you know what she was doing before she got this way?"
The professor looked at Miles, prompting the younger man to speak up. "She was unscrewing a bolt." When the two men stared at him for a moment, he added, "A welded titanium bolt."
The doctor frowned. "I don't see how that might--"
"-- She was using a manual wrench, sir. We weren't allowed to use lasers in the exam."
Pulling out the tricorder, the doctor ran the hand-held device over the woman's body, and after a moment of silence, he gently shook his head. "Nothing seems to be wrong with her. Her heart rate is fast, but nothing abnormal. No fever, no strain on any muscle tissue." He cast an accusing look in Miles' direction. "Has she been vomiting lately?"
"What?" Miles asked defensively. "No! She isn't pregnant."
"You can't know for sure, son. Not until I run a test."
"No, she's too..." Miles was reluctant to finish it, "Just trust me when I say she's not pregnant. She wasn't nauseous, she hasn't been vomiting... Running the test will be a waste of time."
After staring at the young man for a moment, the doctor finally gave in and sighed. "Fine. The only thing I can say about the matter is to wait for her to wake up. When she does, make sure to call me over."
After he left to check on other patients, the professor turned to his student. "You know I can't stay long. Keep an eye on her. When she wakes, report back to me and we will discuss a make up date for your exam."
"Actually, sir, we were finished before she tried the last thing. The performance reading showed that the compressor is capable of functioning properly."
The professor looked down at the girl with a strange look on his face, and despite the worry that clenched around Miles' stomach, he couldn't help but grin crookedly. Since the start of their exam, June insisted that they use up every minute to fix the stupid thing. He was sure they would pass with a decent grade, but to his partner, decent wasn't always enough. The professor turned toward the exit, "Grades will be posted next week."
Finally alone, Miles grabbed a seat and pushed it by the bed before dropping himself into it. He lifted an arm and rubbed the sweat from his face, allowing the tranquil atmosphere of the infirmary to calm the violent pounding of his heart.
--
"... over six billion Vulcans killed while around ten thousand remain, including myself. I am now part of an endangered species."
After concluding the day's log, Captain Spock sat quietly in his chair, his dark eyes staring into open space. It was strange that he felt alone when the crew was currently in the bridge with him, performing their duties as they should be. But, perhaps the feeling of being alone in his current situation was not so strange...
His home; the world he grew up as a child; the first of two planets that gave him a sense of real identity... gone. His mother, the woman on that planet that had been his only source of true comfort -- gone... Both losses were pulling him apart from both sides, and even now, he could not determine which loss caused him more grief. The appliance of logic could not aide to provide an answer, and without the comfort of seeking truth through pure reasoning, Spock was faced with an obstacle so confusing and overpowering that it was almost suffocating.
Plus, being surrounded by the crew seemed to have only catalyzed the turmoil he fought to keep from overtaking him. Despite their discretion, he often caught several pairs of eyes staring at him. He could see the pain and loss in their eyes even when it was not their home that had been lost.
Human empathy was one of many emotions that often fascinated him, except now.
It would be wise to leave, he thought, when he could not trust his emotions despite the discipline he developed over the years to control them. Standing up from the captain's seat, he set off to go somewhere -- anywhere -- unaware that he was being followed into the elevator.
*
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Author's Note: Well, here you go! My first fanfic ever. I'm a bit frightened about writing this, but Spock made it impossible for me to just ignore the impulse. Damn you, you attractive and intelligent Vulcan... ugh... It's also unusual for me to just hop into a fictional universe I know so little about, so if I make any mistakes and use Star Trek terms incorrectly, please let me know!
I'm currently in search of a beta, so if anyone would like to offer their services, message me! Or, you can help me tweak my chapters through your review.