A Change of Stars | By : Prentice Category: S through Z > Star Trek (2009) > Star Trek (2009) Views: 1462 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or Star Wars, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The cold vastness of space had never bothered Spock - to be bothered by something was illogical and as space was not a being that could be cut down or forced into submission it seemed a pointless exercise to worry about something so far beyond his control – and so, when his Master bid him to travel to a mostly uncharted sector of the universe to a star base of which he knew very little, it had not occurred to him to be apprehensive.
He was an experienced pilot, after all, and while he was not yet fully trained in all the tenets of the Sith, he was a formidable opponent. One who was extremely apt at causing extensive amounts of damage to any species that was foolish enough to challenge him. It would be a terrible miscalculation on their part but one that he considered a valuable step towards becoming a better and more proficient Sith Apprentice and, eventually, Sith Lord who would one day turn his eyes to the Federation that failed to keep alive that which was most precious to him.
Hands folding behind his back, his double-sided lightsaber a light and familiar weight against his hip and thigh, Spock stared out the plexiglass window of his cockpit, watching as stars passed by in a blur of motion. Autopilot had been set and would continue to be so for at least another 91.12 seconds; an ample amount of time to stand and stretch muscles that had not been used for most of the journey thus far. It also gave ample amount of time to reexamine his Master’s instructions:
The battle droid fell easily beneath the arched swing of his lightsaber, its red glow shining in the yawning darkness of the Narada’s training facility, and landed sparking and smoldering next to the decimated remains of its brothers. A quick flash of sparks flew from the droid’s metal casing, the acrid smell of fried circuitry permeating the air before all was silent. Disengaging his lightsaber, Spock slid seamlessly back into position, breathing steady and unchanged. He was getting better; more skilled, more powerful.
“Very good, Spock. Very good.”
Inclining his head, Spock turned, robes billowing around him as he flowed to one knee, his head bowed respectfully. Heavy footsteps moved towards him, the clomping of boots against metal echoing into nothingness. A hand touched his hair, fingertips brushing the pointed tip of one of his ears, a thumb sweeping down a lock of black hair.
“What is thy bidding, my Master?”
The hand moved again, fingers digging hard into his skull, before pulling away. Spock remained still, neither missing the hand nor abhorring it. He simply breathed.
“Rise, Spock. I have a mission for you.”
Regaining his feet, he stared at his master, taking in the dark liquid eyes, the wicked grin, and strange tattoos that decorated the man’s skin. They were as he always remembered them to be: unchanged by time and the elements. “Master?”
“What do you think of the Gamma Sector, my apprentice?” Darth Nero asked, his voice an odd mixture of gravel and the poisonous venom of a predator.
Blinking, Spock holstered his saber. “Very little, Master. It is largely uncharted. There is one star base near a Federation Class M planet with a few other close range planets being considered Class H, uninhabitable to humans.”
“Very good. You will leave for the Gamma Sector immediately. I have already had Ayel prepare your ship. I want you to visit the star base there, see if the Federation is as lax in its security as they were with the one near Arakkis Prime. Report to me immediately of all that you find.”
“And if I find nothing of import, Master?” Spock queried his expression blank.
Something feral and dangerous glittered in his Master’s eyes as the Romulan turned, lips pulling into a terrible smile. “Don’t worry, Spock. You will.”
The high-pitched beep of the Jellyfish’s autopilot preparing to disengage pulled Spock from his ruminations and propelled him into motion. Unclasping his hands, he moved towards the command chair, sliding easily into the seat even as his fingers glided over the console, lithely pressing buttons and toggling view screens.
He would be entering the Gamma Sector space in: three…two….one…
A large chunk of metal hull careened towards the Jellyfish, its edges scorched and torn. Spock banked hard starboard, the strange sound of metal scraping metal loud inside the small confines of the cockpit. Proximity alarms and alerts began to sound. An electronic voice announced shields at forty percent. Scattered debris – small to large bits of durasteel and hull – drifted chaotically in space, forcing Spock to maneuver on instinct alone through the minefield that had once been the location of Gamma Sector's star base.
Another sizable piece of hull, this one sporting large painted letters, drifted past his view screen in an almost lazy fashion, twirling in a cartwheel. Blinking, Spock continued to guide his ship, mind and body steady and unmoved. "Fascinating."
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