Title: Home (Multichapter fic with 35 parts)
Beta: Lissaea at Livejournal
Warnings, Themes and Tropes, etc.: bondage, torture, prostitution, explicit sex, drug use
Summary: The Vulcans need a new home planet, so the Enterprise and her crew set out to find one for them.
"They'd come all the way for this? Which mad astronomer had sent them out here? Whose twisted idea had it been?"
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters.
– Home-Part 11 of 35 –
They left the entrance chamber through a small tunnel at the far wall. It was so tight they could no longer walk abreast. Spock took the lead and Jim didn't protest; he stayed as close as he could to Spock.
"The floor here is particularly uneven," Spock said and slowed his pace.
Jim soon discovered what the problem was—before, the tunnel floor had gently been sloping downwards, but now it turned into a steep flight of crumbling stairs. About ten minutes of slipping and sliding on the decaying wet steps found them at the base of the stairs and at the end of the tunnel.
"What do you reckon this room used to be used for?" Jim said and took a step out of the tunnel.
A step was really all he could take.
He was standing on a narrow ledge, because where the room's floor should have been was a wide hole. Looking up, he saw that although this room was nowhere near as large as the entrance chamber, the ceiling was all the higher. Way up overhead he could make out a crack through which some light fought to gain entrance.
They both scanned the area with their lights.
"I do not know what this room's use may once have been," Spock said.
"The pit doesn't seem to be too deep, just there," Jim said. "I reckon a lot of earth must've fallen through from above."
Spock walked over to the spot Jim had indicated. "The earth slopes away steeply, although here it looks to be no more than one point five meters deep."
He let himself down into the pit. The ledge they were standing on came up to Spock's chest and Jim followed him down.
They stood side by side, hugging the wall, not wanting to risk walking on such steep ground until they were sure it was safe. After a few minutes Jim was happy that they had scanned the whole pit thoroughly. His map showed the entrance to a tunnel, approximately three meters to their left, two to their right … and two point five meters below them.
"Down there." Jim pointed down the slope to the darkest corner of the pit.
Spock nodded. "The opening is small, but I think it will be sufficient."
Describing it as a tight squeeze would have been an understatement; they had to get down on their hands and knees to get through the mud into the passageway beyond which was just as silted up as the pit was. There was no option but to crawl the whole way. It was claustrophobic and hard to see anything up ahead-luckily it was a far shorter passage than the previous one. It seemed like a long time, but Jim was aware that it had most likely only been a couple of meters at most, before the ceiling opened up above them, similar to the city's entrance.
"The second line of defense?" Jim asked while they helped each other up.
Spock raised an eyebrow at that. "That is a possible theory."
Jim was good with people and he was hardly ever wrong when it came to interpreting humans, but aliens were another matter entirely. He was never too sure whether what he read into Spock's minute cues was just wishful thinking, some sort of projection or whether he could actually trust his instincts. Right now he was sure Spock was ribbing him, but he'd feel stupid if he acted on that instinct and it turned out to be wrong. He realized he'd been staring at Spock, so he quickly lowered his gaze and directed his torch at himself to find a less dirty patch of his shirt to wipe his mud-covered hands on. When he looked up he let out an audible gasp.
Spock turned around instantly. "Captain, is anything the matter?"
Jim walked up to Spock, ignoring what was this time an obvious jibe.
"Are those frescos of… ? Those are Vulcans, right? Uh, yeah, don't answer that, I can see the pointy ears on that guy as he's… going down on that other… guy."
In the torchlight Jim could see even more frescos now. Male and female Vulcans in all imaginable pairings (and other multiples) and … was that an animal of some kind?
"They're all very detailed, and uh … graphic, aren't they?"
"Similar frescos were not uncommon in public places on Vulcan before the Awakening."
"Really? Even ones like this one with that anim-?"
Spock didn't let him finish the sentence. "Occasionally colonies far from the home planet can fall on hard times due to unforeseen events. Societies can briefly revert back to barbarism even."
The muscles in Jim's back and especially around his neck and jaw tensed. He nodded vigorously enough with his head so Spock would see in the low light. When Spock didn't continue he relaxed again.
"The more I look at these frescos," Jim said once his thoughts had returned from his past to the present, "the more they remind me of ancient Greece and Rome. Not the style, just the content mind you."
They left the chamber and headed downwards again. The corridors seemed more modern here, the walls not lined with frescoes; instead different types of stones were carefully set into them, forming scenes of life on this planet—and on Vulcan? Jim stopped.
"This story looks like it's set in a desert," he said. "Is this meant to be Vulcan? What's it about?"
Spock ran his fingers over the stones. "Infanticide."
Jim's eyes went wide. "What?"
"My homeworld was harsh, Captain-an unforgiving desert planet with few resources. Weakness, whether emotional, intellectual or physical, has never been tolerated by Vulcans. Advanced genetic screening made infanticide a thing of the past, but still many children died each year in ritualistic ability tests."
Jim looked at the scene again, and yes, now he could see the infant, wrapped in a blanket, placed directly under the sun.
"That's barbaric." The words left his mouth before he could stop himself.
Well, interspecies ethics lessons be damned—he was shocked. Spock had raised an eyebrow at him ever so slightly.
"Do you think they did the same here on Saketh?" Jim asked in a quiet voice.
Hell, as a Vulcan Spock probably shared such views about killing off the weak; it certainly fit with the impatience he occasionally showed towards some of the junior members of the science department. Jim decided then he didn't want to know about these ability tests, or he might end up having a 'logical' debate on morals with Spock.
"The depiction of this scene is merely to educate. It is not unreasonable to assume that they would have had their own thoughts on the issue."
"Differences in opinion? Even after the Awakening, or only before?"
Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "Even after. Cultures and their moral points of view are shaped by their landscapes-Saketh is friendlier to life than Vulcan was."
Jim wondered how growing up on the vast flat plains of the American Midwest, amongst people who'd also grown up there, generation after generation, had shaped him. Although the roots of his culture lay further east of course. He found he couldn't really get his head around it.
After they'd set off again, his thoughts turned to Spock and the kind of childhood he might have had; in all three of the categories of weakness he'd mentioned humans fared badly in comparison to Vulcans … and Spock was half-human, even if it seemed to most that his human side was repressed.
"Um … Spock? Why did you join Starfleet instead of staying on Vulcan?"
He didn't receive a reply. Jim's imagination conjured up images of a small Vulcan boy at school, standing all alone in a corner, shunned by classmates; working harder than everyone else on an assignment until late into the night, simply to prove himself to a teacher who expected him to fail; schooling himself not to show any sign of 'weakness', any sign of being at all like his mother; and all Jim wanted to do was grab Spock and shake him, tell him how wrong they'd all been.
The sheer number of passages and rooms to explore was astounding and now that there didn't seem to be any more crawling involved Jim was enjoying himself thoroughly, especially when he thought back to the fresco-chamber. He'd been too shocked to appreciate the potential to poke fun at Spock. He wouldn't make the same mistake on the way back. Speaking of which, it was time he checked in with Scotty.
"So how're things down the mine shaft?" Scotty asked.
"There really is a whole labyrinth down here," Jim answered, "and so much is preserved! Some pretty risqué frescos you might appreciate."
Scotty chuckled. "Glad you two are having fun playing Viggo Smith! I'm calling 'cause there's a mean looking weather front that might be heading this way."
"Okay, keep an eye on it for me and let us know if we need to start turning 'round. Kirk out."
"Viggo Smith?" Spock asked when the channel was closed.
"Oh, just a kid's action adventure series that was on when I was a boy. The hero, Viggo, spends most of his time fighting off mummies in Earth's pyramids or battling Orion Pirates who are raiding archaeological digs across the sector. Which I always thought was slightly ironic, since he spends the rest of his time raiding ancient tombs himself."
He turned to Spock, a wistful smile on his face. "I take it this part isn't a tomb either?"
"No, but I think we are getting closer."
"Closer? To a tomb?"
"Not exactly," Spock replied and Jim wanted to press for more, but he missed his footing on some lose pebbles.
Spock was quick to react and grabbed him under the arms to stop him falling.
"Thanks," Jim said once he was standing unsupported again.
He had dropped his torch, but the light from Spock's was enough for him to quickly locate his own.
"Ah," he said, shaking it. "Seems to be broken. You don't think we've explored enough for one day? We can come back tomorrow."
"We still have my torch, which should be sufficient illumination."
Jim folded his arms across his chest. "Is there anything specific you're looking for? A tomb perhaps?"
"Not exactly."
"You already said that. So what then?"
"The colony's Katric ark."
At the time of Vulcan's destruction Jim hadn't known that was where the Vulcan high council had been, but he'd heard it later in numerous retellings of the day's events. But he was unsure exactly what the Katric ark was. The descriptions had been very sketchy—what he did know was that it had been deep in a mountain, where no transporter or communication signal could reach.
"Spock, I can't say that I understand, because obviously I don't. But what I do know is that I don't like the sound of us looking for this ark on our own. Not when there's a storm coming."
He tried to read Spock's features, but as Spock was holding the torch, they were hard to make out. When Spock didn't reply, he moved closer.
"Captain, it should not take us long to retrace our steps-we have ample time to explore a bit further before we are forced to return to the surface."
Jim checked his tricorder map. They were still within communication range, though he was sure that they'd found themselves out of transporter range almost the minute they'd entered the mountain.
"Ok," he conceded.
They walked further into the maze, and Jim kept his tricorder on to check Scotty's map regularly. Another passageway, they turned a corner, and through a tunnel … when he looked at the map once more they were getting close to the point beyond which they'd be out of communication range. At that moment Scotty called them.
"Captain," he said, "Ye should turn back-." The sound of static momentarily hid whatever Scotty was trying to tell him. "-the storm's definitely coming in, and faster than we thought!"
"We'll turn back immediately. Kirk out."
Spock, however, had continued to walk on as he'd talked to Scotty.
"Hey, wait!" But Spock didn't slow down.
"Spock, we've got to turn back now. We're nearly out of communication range."
Spock said nothing. Jim ran forwards and tried to stand in front of him, but was gently, though firmly pushed aside.
"Talk to me, Spock. You aren't acting rationally!"
It had no effect. Spock didn't slow his pace. When Jim opened a channel on his communicator he was greeted only with static. He didn't have a torch, but if he wanted he knew could feel his way back along the passageway walls to the point where he'd been able to talk to Scotty. That would mean leaving Spock to continue on his own, though, and the guy was clearly not himself; and Spock had the torch.
"Damnit, Spock! I'm ordering you to turn back!"
The pace Spock was setting now was hurried, they were almost running and Jim feared one of them might lose his footing and fall. If he did, would Spock even notice?
Then he ran face first into a wall. No, into Spock. They were standing in the entrance to a huge vaulted chamber.
He felt his skin crawling. But it was just another room, albeit a very impressive one. It was lined with statues. He didn't have time to make out more as there was a thud and then the light went out.
He reached forward and found Spock's shoulders; it seemed Spock was kneeling on the floor.
"Spock, what the hell's going on here?" he hissed into his ear.
He got down onto his knees and moved his hands down from Spock's shoulders, along his arms, searching for the torch. No matter how much he ran his fingers over and around Spock's hands, they were empty-they were also shaking.
"Spock! We need that torch!" he whispered.
Keeping one hand on Spock's form he moved around him so he could search the area in front of them. With his free hand, he felt his way across dried mud, pebbles and the occasional twig. Finally he felt the cool metal of the torch. He flicked the switch. It was still working!
Behind him Spock was breathing heavily. He spun around, still on his hands and knees and then he saw the light reflect back at him from the floor. A puddle was forming behind Spock in front of the doorway. Just a trickle of water was feeding it, but he could hear a faint rumbling sound echoing in the distance.
He got up and rushed over to Spock, whose eyes were firmly closed.
"We've got to go!" he said and shook his friend's shoulders.
Just when he thought it was hopeless Spock came around.
"Jim," he rasped, "help."
Jim looked towards the tunnel entrance. He turned the torch off and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers, so he had both hands free. Then he helped Spock up.
The trickle of water had become a small stream now. Jim whipped out the torch with one arm and flung his free arm around Spock's back to support him.
"We've got to get out of here right now! It's not too far to go, then we can contact the Enterprise. Try and lean on the wall for support if you can."
It was a struggle as Spock was heavier than his slender frame suggested, but they splashed through the tunnel into the previous chamber. With each step Jim could feel Spock growing stronger again.
"I am able to walk on my own," his friend said.
They were both ankle deep in the water, but the current was getting stronger-there was more water where this had come from. It was a mad dash, but Spock seemed to have recovered completely thankfully and was able to lead the way. There was no time to waste on checking maps.
"Do you," Jim panted, "hear that roaring sound too?"
"I do," Spock said, just as wave after wave started hitting them.
"The water level is rising real fast," Jim shouted; they now found themselves slowed down by the resistance of the thigh deep water they had to move through.
"We should be able to attempt communication now," Spock said.
"Then why aren't you opening a channel?"
The water had reached chest height.
"I have lost my communicator in the current," Spock replied.
Jim reached down into the water to search for his own and came up empty handed.
"Shit," was all he had to say to that.
"I apologize for getting us into this situation, Captain."
"Damned right you should," he shouted back. "I could have you court-martialed!"
"Indeed you could," Spock replied.
He couldn't hear any challenge in that voice. Bloody Vulcan!
Jim threw himself forward another step.
He knew that it wasn't like Spock to simply disobey his orders. This mission had clearly gotten to Spock. There had been warning signs, all of which he'd chosen to ignore.
"Sorry," he said eventually.
The water was freezing! Breathing was becoming laborious now.
"I do still trust you," Jim said. "I won't call a court marital. But, you'll be stuck on the ship for this mission." If they got out alive that was.
Spock didn't protest and Jim didn't turn around to face him. It wasn't much further, Jim knew that, and he clung to that thought as if it were a lifeline. They'd been through worse in the past.