Prologue: Day 0
Spock stood on the landing platform with his bags and gazed across the Vulcan horizon. The sun was setting across the L-langon Mountains in the distance, and he considered that this would be a sight he would not see again for a considerable time.
His mother approached from behind him and gently clasped her hands around his right arm. "Your father would have come, but he was busy."
"Do not make excuses for my father," he replied. "He did not wish to come, and he did not wish me to join Starfleet. I did not respect his wishes, and therefore I cannot expect his support. I understood this when I made my choice."
"Oh Spock," she whispered, releasing his arm and turning to observe the view with him.
He could see the shuttle approaching that would take him to the transport ship bound for Earth sailing into view. As his father still served a supervisory role at the Vulcan Consulate to Earth, he had visited the planet many times in his youth. Earth was a shock to the senses: it was cold, damp, and inhabited by people who rarely saw the point in the judicious restraint of emotion.
He knew the senior advisor to the Science Council had been right: his application to Starfleet did have roots in rebellion. He had spent his entire life fighting assumptions that he would never be the equal of his peers because of his human mother, and an irrational moment of anger on his mother's behalf may well have proved them right. It was too late to alter his course now. He would go to Earth and serve in Starfleet: he had nowhere else to go. It was not as though he ever felt like he truly fit in on Vulcan anyway.
The shuttle began its descent onto the landing pad and he could feel the warm rush of the air displaced by the thrusters.
"It's only us, Spock, so let me just say good luck, and I love you," his mother said, her voice nearly drowned out over the roar of the incoming shuttle.
Spock turned his head to see she was squinting her eyes as if to fight off tears. She had to know her son would one day outgrow his need for her, so her emotional distress was irrational.
"I should think you realize luck is illogical," he replied.
"So it is."
The shuttle landed and an entry port folded down into a set of stairs and a human crewman emerged.
"Goodbye mother," he said. He formed his hand into the Vulcan salute and added, "Live long and prosper."
"You're my son, Spock. I would give anything to give you peace and long life. I hope you can find that in Starfleet."
He nodded to her, picked up his two small bags, and approached the crewman who was waving him forward with one hand while reading something from a PADD with the other.
"You Spock?" he yelled over the shuttle's still active thrusters.
"I am," he replied.
"Welcome to Starfleet. Put your bags in the overhead compartment and have a seat anywhere."
He walked up the stairs but at the top turned to see his mother for the last time. She gave him a little wave and he suspected there were tears freely flowing down her face by now, though he could not be certain from that distance. He nodded again and boarded the shuttle.
It was empty except for a crew of three and a pilot. He removed his PADD from his bags and then stowed them as he had been instructed and took a seat in the first of the sixteen passenger seats. The crewman he'd briefly interacted with sat in a rear-facing jump seat next to his comrades.
Spock clicked his PADD on and continued his research on Starfleet traditions when he noted a message from Starfleet Academy labeled, "Initial Entry Training Itinerary." He clicked it open and had only read the first sentence when the man he had spoken with interrupted.
"My name's Daggs," he said, holding out his hand.
"Vulcans don't shake hands, idiot. Besides, he's going to be an officer. Don't want to fraternize, you know?" said the older crewman sitting next to him.
"He doesn't know any better," the older crewman added, speaking this time to Spock. "I'm Jansky, and this guy is Coble. You're the first Vulcan to join Starfleet in like, ten years."
"Twelve," said the third man that Jansky had identified as Coble. "I checked before we boarded out of curiosity."
"So what made you want to join the fleet?" Daggs asked.
Spock was perplexed by the open curiosity of these strangers. Though he had been to Earth a total of thirteen times, most of his experience was limited to diplomatic settings due to his father's position, and so he'd never interacted with humans in so casual a way. His mother was human, of course, but she had adopted many Vulcan customs upon marrying his father.
"Why does anyone join Starfleet?" Coble joked, noting the awkward silence. "Usually to get away from home and see the stars."
"Have you done your initial entry training yet?" Daggs asked.
"No," Spock replied.
"Ah, well, they'll treat you bad, but they're hard on everyone," Daggs explained. "That's the point: it's all supposed to be character building. Besides, big guy like you, I bet you coast through no problem."
Spock nodded his head slightly, still baffled by the crew's unusual familiarity and continued to read the message on his PADD.
He would begin his official studies at Starfleet on 2250.19, or 1 September by Earth's old calendar. He was arriving forty-four days prior to that date to complete Starfleet's Initial Entry Training, a program designed to teach all cadets basic skills, customs, and courtesies of the service and instill uniform discipline.
As he read the itinerary, he noted that there would be little serious academic instruction in the upcoming six weeks. Much of the time would be devoted to physical training, basic crew systems and weapons training, basic battle drills, communications training, Starfleet and Federation history, and survival classes.
None of this seemed particularly threatening. He had undertaken the kahs-wan in his youth, a traditional Vulcan survival test that required him to endure ten days without food or water in Vulcan's Forge. His physiology was also superior to that of humans, even without accounting for Earth's lighter gravity and thicker atmosphere.
The rest all seemed to be exercises on the retention and execution of basic instructions, which had been the pinnacle of his life since infancy. The days would be long: most were scheduled to go from 0600 to 2100, but Vulcans also possessed the ability to endure longer periods with less sleep than most other species.
Ultimately, it seemed as though the primary purpose of this initial entry training was to indoctrinate adaptability, and Vulcans were nothing if not adaptable.
Daggs rose from his seat and entered the pilot's cockpit. He gazed at Jansky and Coble, the former had leaned his head against the wall behind him and was sleeping softly and the latter was staring out the porthole at the starship they were approaching, the USS Faraday.
"Damn transporter's broken again; we're going to have to initiate docking procedures," Daggs whined.
"Well that figures," Jansky muttered without opening his eyes. "How do they plan to get the shuttle back into the bay?"
"Engineering is still working on the plasma conduits. They say it could be another couple of hours," Daggs replied.
Coble stood without complaint and began working at the computer console attached to the wall behind him. Spock watched the rhythm of their informal camaraderie, noting that though their idle banter was irrelevant to the mission, it seemed to do little to slow their efficiency.
Soon the shuttle docked with the Faraday and the hatch hissed open. The three crewmen exited and Spock collected his things from the overhead compartment. The pilot stood waiting behind him with his arms crossed.
"After you," Spock said, yielding to the man in social politeness.
"No kid. After you. Captain always disembarks last."
"My apologies, I was unaware," Spock replied.
The man laughed and slapped his shoulder. Spock stared at the man neutrally, unclear of the purpose of such raucous behavior.
"I know. You don't know nothing yet. You're still wet behind the ears and darling as a litter of beagle pups to boot. But you'll learn. Trust me, you'll learn."
"I am uncertain of the meaning of your multiple colloquialisms," Spock replied.
"It means get off my shuttle," the man shouted, pointing toward the exit with his hand.
As Spock exited the small craft and boarded the Faraday, he noticed the bright red hue of his home planet from the small portal. They would not remain long in Vulcan's orbit, and he was not likely to see his home again for some time.
He moved away from the small window and realized this was his new home. Not the Faraday specifically, but Starfleet.