A/N: So I've encountered my first 'crisis of faith' with this fic, perfectly aware that for the most part it doesn't feature the most popular parings in trekkie fictdom. And it gets pretty hard when you inevitably start comparing your work to some of the other fics out there and realize that you suck harder than you originally thought (please read Redemption by Ithiel Dragon and see what I'm talking about, trust me on this). Nevertheless I press forward! My goal is to finish this thing, and boy do we have a long way to go. Usual disclamer.
Chapter 9: Mellifluous Glow
Spock kept a respectable distance from his gemologist as the older woman deliberately worked the laser cutting into the softly glowing stone. The rock recovered from Tricaus proved to have amendable properties besides the benign light it cast. It responded extremely well to laser treatment, and what was more, when grinded it put off nearly no dust, thus retaining much of its weight which was surprisingly slight to begin with. It also surpassed the tensile strength of diamond (something Starfleet would appreciate) while mimicking a diamond's reflective brilliance when skillfully cut. While the rock's illumination lessened somewhat when removed from the rough, the loss of its luminosity was easily countered by its utterly flawless transparency. The blue hue almost shimmered when placed against white light, giving the appearance of water when sunlight struck its surface—never losing its remaining glow, fire, or clarity. Spock was most pleased.
The gemologist submerged and cleaned the stone so any debris that clung to it fell away. Pinching the meticulously fashioned rock between a pair of delicate tweezers, the woman examined it once more through her magnifying spectacles before finally pulling them and the gemstone away from her face. "Commander, this by far is the most remarkable specimen I've ever worked on. Forgive my forwardness sir, but it's going to absolutely take someone's breath away." While the gemologist did not know Lieutenant Uhura was the stone's intended recipient, she had been informed by her commanding officer his intentions for the crafted ornament. It was terribly romantic. A married woman herself, the gemologist knew a showstopper when she saw one; the cut gemstone on this ring was the very first of its kind…and at least for the next few years, the only.
"Thank you Misses Boyd," Spock replied curtly as he leaned in with a demure handheld magnifier of his own. It truly was a perfect gem and Nyota would surely be delighted. "Outstanding work," the Vulcan complimented appraisingly. "Thank you very much sir. I can have the stone set within the hour."
"Very good, I shall return again in that time." With that, the woman set back to her task, a small grin on her face all while she prepared to incase the fabulous jewel within its new home.
"Oh my gawd…" It was all Kirk could manage while gawking at the gem-crowned platinum band destined for the ship's Communication Officer. "Spock…Spock holy crap this thing is unbelievable." In turn, a smile threatened to stake claim on the FO's face. "Judging by the related reactions by all who have seen the final product, I am led to believe this ring will be a suitable show of Lieutenant Uhura's and my betrothal."
"You bet your pointy-eared ass!" Kirk exclaimed, drawing a raised brow from Spock.
"An interesting confirmation."
The Captain was all grins. "Man Spock," Jim would continue, though in much softer tones. "I'm really happy for you buddy. You're better than me, that's for sure."
Kirk's second in command nodded in response. "If I might query Jim, is it very difficult for you to commit yourself to a single potential significant other?"
James blinked. It was a completely innocent question that passed from the Vulcan, earning a sigh from the Human. Honestly Kirk couldn't blame Spock for being at least a little curious; his reputation as an interspecies womanizer (exaggerated as it was) was hardly a secret. Or…maybe it just could have been a mostly human thing? Bones would have understood. But then again, he was still a little sour on the fiscally devastating (not to mention emotionally damaging) fallout of his divorce—so maybe he wouldn't have. "Well, uh," Jim began, smiling a bit, but not for amusement. "How would you put it Spock…its logical to cultivate multiple options?"
"Simultaneously?"
Jim snorted. "Ah, er, probably not—or at least it tends not to end well when 'cultivating multiple options' in respect to the fairer sex; speaking of us Earthlings of course. How Vulcans do, I can't really say."
Spock pondered the response. "Then why continue to do so when the actions of such more often than not yield unfavorable results?" Here, Jim groaned as he let his head fall backwards before facing his friend again. "Hey, hey easy. I'm getting better," he added in his defense. "But I really wouldn't consider myself ready for 'commitment' at this point in my life. And if I am, its clearly news to me and I haven't found my stride yet, not that I'm actually looking for it." Of course Spock was instantly quizzical behind the comment. "A fascinating assessment Jim, as that I did not require intimacy with multiple partners before I considered Lieutenant Uhura a long-term compatible fit."
"Yeah well, that's because you're a damn lucky bastard. Now let's quit talking about me and talk about when you're gunna hand over that insanely beautiful ring to your bride-to-be," Kirk said staunchly, grateful for the opportunity to steer the conversation away from his functionality in relationships, or lack thereof.
"I considered this evening as good a time as any. Should I otherwise wait?" Jim shook his head adamantly. "No way, don't wait if you don't have to. Or better that, do it when you feel it's the right time." Even as he said it, Jim wondered how well this very human idiom would go over with Spock. As expected, the Vulcan's brow creased ever so slightly, but raised no questions. "I see. I suppose the opportune moment will present itself in due time."
"It usually does," Jim assured, as if he were the premiere authority on the matter. "Just don't hold onto it for too long—whatever you do, you don't want Uhura thinking you got cold feet."
Maintenance chutes, breezeways and other out-of-the-way passages were the routes of choice as Khan and his followers moved toward the unsuspecting Finch. It was amazing what one could achieve given the right knowledge, or more, the knowledge to access the information sought. While eight of the nine Augments were generally unaware, they were quickly learning that the people of this time didn't take security as seriously as they should have; the ease of which they were able to steal vessels and infiltrate orbital stations was simply ludicrous. Nevertheless, as they arrived closer to where the USS Finch was docked, it was becoming more of a requirement to crawl about on hands and knees and wedge into tight spaces. While Khan was loathed to admit it, he was certainly struggling. The effects of the narcotic pain-killer Aakar had administered was already wearing off; a side-effect of an Augment's biologic resilience—dampening the good with the bad, especially when it came to intravenous medications. His injured leg was in no condition to be dragged over metal grates or propel him up long narrow ladders, which said nothing for his lung and the stresses he was putting upon it. Despite the urgency of the situation, more than once did Khan find himself pausing to catch a burning breath, courtesy of his compromised respiratory system. In the grand scheme of things however, those wounds were trivial. He was quite capable of surviving at this point and if things continued to go as well as they had been, he'd have more than enough time to recuperate.
At long last the fugitive group came as far as the could keeping to the metallic shadows that were the hidden walls of Starbase 1. A cursory glance at his data P.A.D.D. told Khan they were exactly where they needed to be…Maintenance Hanger Three-Charlie-Bravo. He ran a scan. "There-" Khan began but faltered, a mix of stolen breath and sharp discomfort being the culprit. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he forced the searing outline of their objective. "There is a fresh air vent below this platform whose opening stands fifteen feet from the Finch. One of us shall go and scout, taking note of who is where. I show ten individuals present in the hangar—that could account for inside the ship as well."
"Khan, allow me," Lilith volunteered.
"No. Roe. He's faster," Khan swiftly countered, and though neither of them let it show, a sense of smugness and displeasure filled the two subordinates respectively. "Yes Khan," Roe acknowledged as he stepped past all of them and lowered himself to the specified vent beneath. Crouching, the platinum Augment peered through the vent's slats. Machinery moved smoothly and efficiently about. Nearby, a man with a data tablet stood surveying the scene. There were a few idle shouts here and there as the maintenance crew relayed information to one another. A set of air-stairs stood deployed, marking the most obvious opening into the craft—a woman walking into the Finch. As near as Roe could tell, there were two more individuals on the far side of the ship and another moving other machinery much deeper into the hangar, suggesting that the rest of the enumerated crew was inside. Examining the vent cover itself, Roe pinched the slats to see how easily the thing would move. Apparently very given that he only applied minimum force before the cover slid outward ever-so-slightly. It didn't even make a sound. Immediately next to the vent was a large square container—something that would provide the perfect cover. Sliding the vent out completely, Roe set it to one side to begin his reconnaissance. Nothing and no one needed to tell the super-human that staying out of sight was imperative, and the man intended to do just that.
Dodging the crew in the hangar itself was a simple task…they were all too absorbed in their work to take note of their surroundings. Ascending the Finch's stairs quickly, Roe found a corner to duck into—satisfied to sit and listen for voices and movement inside the vessel. There was a conversation about someone's recent sexual exploits, and another about a new outfit at some clothier. Mindless banter, but a few seconds more spent listening revealed exactly what was left in the checklist for the Finch. An actuator was scheduled for replacement and it seemed the part was already on board. Some sensors were due for recalibrating and the ship's interior needed to be cleaned…that was it. Time to leave. As it was though, it was far easier to slip onto a vessel than it was to slip off of it, Roe at that moment didn't have the advantage of knowing exactly where the people on the outside were. Fortunately, the personnel onboard were far enough from Roe's position to allow enough time to garner just a peek outside to gauge the terrain. No one around, no need to sneak, simply bolt for the vent. In and out. Back with the others in only seconds, Roe gave his report. The news was promising and Khan had little difficulty, metaphorically speaking, in doling out orders. It was now time for Lilith and Kaida to act, feigning ignorance for getting lost when they approached the crew in the greater hangar. Those individuals were quickly dispatched, bodies stuffed in a corner.
Within the Finch, slightly different tactics were employed, but the results were the same. The remaining maintenance workers had been quietly subdued, most killed but some spared—they'd be the ones to help lubricate the Augments' escape from Starbase 1. Within moments the most senior among the captives had been found, and it was under threat of death that the person authorized an early 'test run' of the Finch, allowing it to be given official clearance away from the dock. The ship would be on the far side of Luna before it jumped to warp, its trajectory placing the craft well beyond Mars. Once the surviving Starfleet personnel had reached the end of their usefulness, they like their colleagues back at the dock, found themselves for the afterlife, save one. He was brought directly before Khan. Thrown to the floor of the ship's small mess hall, a thin reedy man not out of his thirties sat on his haunches, practically sniveling in his most hopeless situation. Cold blue eyes staring unblinkingly at his captive, Khan sat perfectly still in a lightly cushioned chair while several of his crew stood looking on.
"You. You stated before that you worked maintenance upon the USS Enterprise before its departure from the sector. Where is Starfleet's flagship now?"
The man had already broken into a cold sweat, his head jerking about to the strange people surrounding him before his own eyes fell back on the stolid figure who questioned him. "I don't know, I don't know! I swear I don't know," the frightened officer stammered. "It's on a five year deep-space mission—it could be anywhere!" The narrowing of Khan's eyes at this was almost imperceptible.
"The Finch. It is in perfect working order?"
The man's voice hitched. "Y-yes. You made us finish all the work before you killed everyone!"
"…Then it would seem our time here is done." Khan coolly replied. As a result, if the interrogated man's eyes could grow any wider as panic beset him, they did. "W-wait, what does that mean? Oh God, God please don't kill me! Please, please it's not worth it! Who am I gunna tell about this?" Even as he pleaded, he was taken up by the arms, Sven's grip upon him unbreakable. "Wait, wait please! I've got a family! Just let me go!" The man was drug from the room. Khan didn't respond.
All the way down the Finch's halls the maintenance man continued to parley for his life, though the farther they moved, the more aware he became that his ridiculously large and ridiculously strong steward was not going to listen. A door was opened and the Starfleet officer was tossed roughly inside, his fall broken only by the heaped and lifeless bodies of his murdered coworkers. "Sorry friend. You know what they say about loose ends." Sven closed the door back as the man's cries erupted into desperate shrieking, realizing too well he was now in the Finch's garbage hatch. The small ship would not shutter as the bodies of the dead, and one still live man, jettisoned into space; it was a known fact that death in a vacuum was not instantaneous. There would still be several seconds of acute awareness before the harsh environment of space finally took its toll. It was, ideally, enough time for that lone man to make his peace before darkness finally claimed him—perhaps he used it wisely.
Spock wasn't good at these types of things. Though he and Nyota had been together for nearly two years, the pair seldom dated. Between Nyota's then wealth of classes and Spock's interim as faculty, the most the two could ever manage in public were a few philosophical and occasionally intimate conversations over light dinner. The rest had come behind closed doors. Well aware that James was not a viable candidate to elicit advice from on the matter, Spock considered asking the once married Doctor McCoy on how best to present Nyota her ring. After considering however the Doctor's turbulent marital history-one that resulted in the inequitable termination of his marriage-Spock thought better of it. And while he could easily ask the other senior officers he had become familiar with their views on the matter, he simply did not wish to. That so, it appeared he was on his own. At last, the Vulcan abandoned any elaborate tone setting for the presentation; in his mind the effort was illogical seeing as Uhura already accepted his original proposal. The only thing left was to offer the dowry.
When Spock arrived in Uhura's quarters, she was as he expected to find her, in loose-fit personal clothing and curled in a chair with a data pad. Her music of choice played softly in the background, mellow and unhurried. She smiled warmly at him in greeting. "Hey you."
"Good evening Nyota."
Silence transpired—one that almost could have been awkward if Uhura hadn't set her tablet down and approached the Vulcan still standing near her door. "You know," she'd say, closing the remaining distance with a kiss, "you can make yourself comfortable…I don't bite…much." Spock embraced her in response, offering second kiss that lasted much longer than the first, breaking it only to speak. "I have something I'd like to give you."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" Nyota was grinning, arms encircling Spock's neck. While her lover was hardly one for innuendo, it always did a little something for her libido to think that he was…when the opportunity presented itself. To her surprise or even slight confusion, Spock pulled away, leaving her to watch as he fished a small dark container off his person. Eyes transfixed, Nyota stared most intently as Spock's long fingers lifted the container's lid. What she found made her jaw drop.
"Nyota," Spock began softly, "for you. A ring to show my commitment; an avowal to inform all who look upon you that you are spoken for." Nyota not for the first time, was struck speechless, brown eyes fluttering madly as the gravity of Spock's words hit home. The small box returning to a pocket, Spock took Nyota's left hand and gingerly placed the carefully crafted ring upon her fourth finger, the center jewel's glow catching in the woman's dark irises.
"Oh…oh my god Spock…" She uttered, her lip trembling slightly. Those same glassy eyes would finally drag from the ring the Vulcan placed on her finger to find him smiling most affectionately. Gasping somewhat, Nyota threw her arms back around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Spock's large hands caressed his fiancé's back as they remained in the middle of her quarters, several moments passing before Nyota pulled away to hold her lover's face, kissing it repeatedly. "You approve of the ring then?" Spock murmured quietly. Here the human woman appeared almost stunned before smiling most emphatically. "Spock, I…of course I do! Its," she brought her hand closer to inspect it. "This is…oh my God this is the most indescribably beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on in my entire life." Her gaze flicked back up to meet his. "And," Nyota managed, "…it came from you. That makes it irreplaceable."
The Vulcan's mouth curled into another smile. "Then I am wholly satisfied."
For once, the soft sounds of Spock's deeper sleep filled the air before Nyota's. He lay there beside her pressed into the sheets he had come as close as a Vulcan ever did to teasing her about. She on the other hand was all but consumed by the jewel on her finger…and what it meant. It was one thing to have someone ask for your hand in marriage, it was quite something else to have physical proof of the commitment, and it be so utterly peerless. Finally she shifted, facing Spock and taking in the sight of his smooth tranquil features. Too many things rushed through her mind suddenly at that moment, most of it good, some of it wonderful and at last, things that she'd rather not dwell on. In all, the one laying there in her bed was the one she was going to spend the rest of her life with.
A pang shook her.
At once Nyota realized that the one she could have most related to in life as a human woman wed to a Vulcan, had been killed in an act of genocide so unfathomable it was now legendary. She bit her lip at the sobering thought. She hadn't met Spock's mother Amanda…now she never would, but lord what she would have given for the woman's invaluable insight. Nyota was hard press to imagine the amount of emotional strength Amanda had to possess for not only living among Vulcans being married to one, but for raising a Vulcan son as well. The idea was staggering, and it leant Nyota the reflection of if she too would be as Spock's mother was one day.
With a soft sigh she pushed all these larger than life contemplations from her mind…abandoned for placing a hand lightly against Spock's cheek. Nyota closed her eyes. 'One thing a time', she told herself. They did have to make it to the wedding first, after all. The planning could even start tomorrow. 'I love you Spock,' she whispered silently to him. Who knew...maybe she wouldn't be able to sleep at all tonight. How could she when all she could think of was what every little moment of the future held? So this was what it was like to be a bride.
Humph. Nerve-racking.
A/N: Given that I know this fic will have a great many more chapters, I'm making an effort to make the updates longer which in turn might create longer gaps between new chapters. I'll try not to have that happen too often though. To those who are still reading, thank you so much! Reviews are encouraged as they make me feel like I'm not boring people to absolute tears. Till next time!