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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.

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Gamma Solarii VI was by all accounts a primitive planet.

It was filled with abundant vegetation, a wide variety of animal species, and a humanoid population that would, very likely, consume its inherent riches within the better part of a millennia. It also had a climate that was well within the parameters of what most humanoid species would consider habitable, though much colder for those of pure Vulcan physiology. For Spock and his own much altered standards, it was moderate enough that he would be able to function unhindered by extra robes or unwanted bodily functions such as shivering.

Fingers moving over the console with practiced ease, he laid in a course for the nearest geostationary docking station, relying solely on the ships’ more advanced technology to maneuver through the last of the star base debris. Much of it had drifted, somersaulting outward into space. It was as if whatever cataclysmic event that had happened on the base had come internally and forced it to rip itself apart from the inside out.

Eyes lifting to the circular view screen of his ship, Spock stared out at the last few pieces of wreckage that drifted nearby, their bodies twirling lazily. A small piece of hull no bigger in size than his torso was well within ship range, making it easy to see that, although the initial explosion had ripped it apart from the rest of the hull, it was not overly scorched or charred. Likewise, a mechanical device of some sort, one that looked incredibly similar to a hydrospanner with melted ends, floated by without much more than a few grease marks to show for it.

It would take a powerful explosion or, perhaps, several small and carefully placed ones to cause such a catastrophic and consuming blast. One well beyond the capabilities of a small single-person ship such as the Jellyfish, whose directed energy weapons would do little more than destabilize the star base’s shields and cause minor damage to the hull and possible persons in the area of the direct-hit. Removing himself from the distinctive triangular pilot’s chair, Spock stood, mind whirling with a variety of potential possibilities.

While the Gamma Sector’s star base was not immense – housing only a quarter of standard Federation star base allotted personnel, all of whom would be responsible for overseeing normal operations and any temporary travelers passing through the area– it was considerably larger than the average freighter or even a bulk cruiser. Which left two possibilities: either a ship of the line, one equipped with powerful weapons and capabilities had blown the star base to pieces or –

Spock froze, face going blank as he stared hard at the interior of ship and the empty red matter storage facility. It had been empty for some time now, his Master choosing to move the precious and highly unstable matter to his own ship for closer and more personal protection. It had seemed like a logical step at the time; his Master and mentor was far more capable of protecting such an important tool for destruction than he was but now, with the remnants of the star base floating around him, he felt a vicious and sharp tug at the core of his being.

The only other option aside from a ship of the line was sabotage. One that was perpetrated in order to bring devastation and chaos to the Federation and one that would bring a mad scramble in his direction. Eyelids dropping to half-mast, fingers curling into fists at his sides, Spock could feel the insidious swirl of the Dark Side inside of him, the untamed power of it howling in every single molecule of his being, screaming out for –

“The planet only has seconds left,” he exclaimed, the loud rumble of an unstable world echoing off the walls of the Katric Ark and trembling beneath his feet. Stones, large and deadly, tumbled around them, crushing sacred pieces of Vulcan’s long and honorable heritage. “We must evacuate.”

Holding out his hand, Spock stared at the Vulcan High Council; at his father and mother. Amanda Grayson’s face was ashen, smudged with dirt and swathed in sweat. She looked terrified, ill, and incredibly fragile beneath the Vulcan clothing she’d adopted in order to please his father.

“Mother, now,” he implored, hand grasping out, willing her to hurry, to be safe in his caring and away from the destruction that was about to befall his people.

Feeling her cool hand in his, so very human but alive, made his heart pound against his side, something that wasn’t quite relief heaving inside of him. He would keep her safe and alive, whole. Unblemished by what was about to happen.

Turning, they ran, dodging falling stone, precious works of art, and bits of Vulcan heritage he knew that they as a people would probably never see the likes of again in their life spans. His mother’s breathing, so rapid and shallow, like a little bird, echoed inside the trembling corridors; his father’s heavy footfalls close behind. He would save them. He had to.

Bursting from the tunnel, rocks sliding dangerously close to their precarious position near the edge of one boulder, his mother’s arm threaded through his own. Flipping open his communicator he all but screamed into it, demanding and low. “This is Spock. Get us out of here.”

The response was immediate, the instructions to stay where they were a small pittance to his worry. Squeezing his mother’s fingers comfortingly, he allowed her arm to slide from his own, taking a small step back even as the energizing beams began to wrap around them. They would be safe, together, a family.

His mother turned to him then, her face white and lined with frightened tears, and her eyes…her eyes…

Blinking, Spock uncurled his aching fingers, the bloody crescent moons his fingernails had dug into his palms welling green. The Force around him breathed with dark energy, crackling and primed, ready to strike out like a serpent. A storm was brewing inside of him, hot and aching and so unlike the cool balm of logic that it nearly crippled him.

But now was not the time for that.

Rotating back to the command chair, he moved forward, dark eyes drinking in the triangular back of the seat and the circular view screen. They formed a perfect replica of the Vulcan IDIC, the symbol of the basis of all Vulcan philosophy. It was one of the few symbols left of his people.

Almost instantly the soothing blanket of logic wrapped around him once again, tempering the wild darkness of the Dark Side building within him. If his assessment was correct, if indeed the star base had been sabotaged by some person or persons as yet unknown, then his Master had sent him into a trap. A trap that was designed to either kill or incapacitate him for a time, but…to what purpose?

“Dom-ki’sarlah,” Spock murmured, watching through the view screen as another speck of wreckage drifted by. If this was what his Master wanted, then so be it. “Nirak.”

Unfortunately AFF doesn't allow hover-over text so any and all translations (of which there won't be many) will always be at the bottom of the chapter.
Translations:

Dom-ki'sarlah: So, it has come.

Nirak: Fool.
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A Change of Stars