THE LOST YEARS
by Soledad
PRELUDE: CROSSROADS
Disclaimer: see Introduction.
Rating: G, for this chapter
Author's notes:
Just to put everyone's mind at ease: this is not going to be a Spock/Athena romance! To be perfectly honest, I was thinking of leaving this part out of the English version, as it doesn't serve any particular goal – other than giving an explanation why would Athena go to the big reception in Spock's company. But it was part of the original story, so in the end I decided to keep it.
People who are informed about the peculiarities of Vulcan physiology also know about the merciless biological determination called the pon farr. An irrepressible urge that overcomes Vulcans in every seventh year. Which doesn't mean that Vulcans would be unable to react to the other gender during the time in-between. They can choose to do so, if the motivation is strong enough. Few outsiders know, however, that by very strong simulation, the emergence of an untimely plak tow, sexual trance, is quite possible.
Mr. Spock's interest for Athena, Commander Adama's daughter, had nothing to do with the strange working of Vulcan biology. He did found the slender, dark-haired young woman aesthetically pleasing, in the manner as he would behold an intricate piece of art. Athena's beauty and elegance reminded him of the women of his own people, and there was something in her behaviour that intrigued him. Behind the emotional surface that could be expected from a human, there was a certain hardness, the Vulcan self-discipline not unlike.
This had made Spock curious, and considering his skills with computers, it was easy for him to go through certain personal files. His own ethical codex didn't allow looking into confidential material, but what he had seen was enough to understand that hardness a little better.
Fate had not been gentle to Adama's daughter. Athena had lost so much: her home, her mother, her kid brother, her whole world, the future she had dreamed of, the man she had loved. She needed to become hard as iron to survive. And yet, there was also a strange vulnerability in her, protected by the tall and strong walls she had built for her own defence. Spick realized with a surprise the awakening of completely illogical protective instincts that he had, no doubt, inherited from his human ancestors.
This was ridiculous. Athena was a competent officer. She did not need his protection. Not to mention the fact that he would have no chance to protect her from anything or anyone.
And yet the illogical feelings would not go away. Perhaps his father had been right, after all. Perhaps he had spent too much time among humans. Perhaps it was time to return to his true roots.
But first, he had to fulfil his duty to Starfleet, to his ship, to his captain. There was no way to change a new path before the current five-year-mission of the Enterprise came to an end. Assuming that they survived the upcoming confrontation with the mysterious Cylons, of course.
As a Starfleet officer for almost twenty years – not to mention the son of an esteemed Federation diplomat – it was Spock's duty to find out what the chances are. To be able to do that, he needed to absorb every bit of data the Colonial Fleet had about the Cylons. That meant endless hours at the computers, studying, analysing, cross-checking what he had found with Starfleet databases. He had to finish his work before the war council between Commander Adama and the commanding officers of Starfleet ships that were already on their way here.
He knew he could do it. He was a Vulcan – he needed less sleep than humans. He could go on with his work for days, if it was necessary. And right now, it was necessary.
He clenched his hands a few times above the keyboard of the old-fashioned computer. His fingers were stiff, almost frozen. The climate controls of the Galactica kept the temperature at a level that even average humans would have found uncomfortably low. Spock was freezing, more than he had ever been in his entire life. To expose himself to such unnecessary torment would have been illogical, so – after giving the situation some thought – he turned with his seat to Athena who had been assigned to help him search the Fleet databases.
"Miss Athena, would it be possible to get permission to have some of my… personal items beamed over to the Galactica?"
"That won't be a problem," she answered, a little surprised. "What do you need that we can't provide here?"
"Warm clothing," Spock explained. "The climate aboard this ship is… decidedly unpleasant for me. I come from a desert planet where the average temperature is twice as high as here."
"Sounds like Hades itself," Athena eyed the Starfleet-uniform critically. "Of course, your shoddy uniform would provide no protection. I can organize you one of ours, if you want. The winter uniforms are double lined, the best quality… and they look a lot better."
"Aesthetic considerations do not play any important role for me at the moment, Miss Athena," Spock replied calmly. "Although I would willingly admit that your uniforms have a display a considerably higher level of elegance. I would gladly borrow one if you have any in store."
"Sure we do, more than enough. More than people to wear them, to tell the truth. Come with me, I'll take you to the store rooms at once."
Athena led him down to the lower decks, where the cargo bays and other similar facilities were housed. Finally, they came to a long storeroom. It had a low ceiling, and its walls were lined with drawers and cupboards. An elderly, civilian woman came out of a back room to greet them. Adama's daughter explained quickly what they needed, and the woman nodded in agreement.
"You seem to be the same size as bridge officer Omega," she decided, after giving the Vulcan a trained, measuring look. "We have several uniforms in store in this size… but only the brown ones, for pilots."
"The colour is of no relevance for me," Spock assured her. "As long as they are warm, I would be satisfied."
"In that case I'll give you a winter uniform, I think," the woman said, searching one of the cupboards already. "Or two of them, right away, so that you'll have something to change. The changing room is overt there. Wait a moment, please."
Spock walked over obediently, and after a few moments the woman handed him the selected uniforms. The cotton-lined tunic and the thick trousers were pleasant to the touch and warm enough, even for him. The knee-high boots were too wide for his thin legs but could be tightened with the side clasps, and the dark brown jacket, although synthetic, felt like soft leather; it was elegant and practical at the same time.
The Vulcan gazed into the floor-to-ceiling mirror to check his appearance – and was a little surprised. As the thick, unfamiliar clothing covered the sharp contours of his thin body, he looked eerily similar to his father, Sarek, who had a much more robust build.
"By the Lords of Kobol!" Athena cried out in astonishment as he left the changing room. "I can barely recognize you."
Feeling flattered by the surprised delight in Athena's voice would have been unworthy a Vulcan – naturally, Spock would never allow the weakness of his human half to surface. He was content to be warm for the rest of his stay on the Galactica. What other people thought of his fashion sense was irrelevant.
"Not bad," the woman in charge of the storage rooms agreed and handed him the short, circular cape and the golden necklace that were part of the dress uniform. "You'll be expected to wear these when joining ceremonial events."
"We'll be able to check the effect, soon," Athena added, after they have left the storage rooms and headed back to the archives of the Galactica. "News just have reached us that the Divine Wind, with Ambassador Sarek on board, will arrive within thirty-six of your standard hours. My father plans a big reception for all Federation representatives aboard the Rising Star. Speaking of which, I'd like to ask you a favour."
"What kind of favour?" Spock asked, hiding his surprise. What could Athena need from him, especially in connection with a diplomatic reception?
"As the daughter of the Fleet Commander, I have to make an appearance," Athena replied, less than enthusiastically. "Unfortunately, I still don't have anyone to escort me. Would you honour me with taking over this role?"
"Certainly, Miss Athena, if this is of any relevance. The honour would be all mine."
"It is of great relevance for me, Mr. Spock," Athena looked away, as if she would try to hide her sorrow. "You see, the whole Fleet is aware of the fact that I've lost Star… a man who meant a great deal to me, twice. Once to another woman, and a second time forever, when he didn't return from a mission. Would I appear at the reception alone, people would feel sorry for me. I don't want anyone's sorry. I find it… humiliating. I don't know if you can understand what I mean…"
"Not really," Spock admitted in all honesty, "but that, too, is irrelevant. I am willing to help you regain your reputation in the eyes of your people… although I must say that I find this human obsession with appearances a little absurd."
Athena nodded thoughtfully. "It is absurd, to tell the truth. But that is the way people think, and you and I won't be able to change it overnight."
TBC