spock đź–– (hobgoblin) wrote in onewaythreads, @ 2017-06-28 20:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | spock, the doctor (12) |
Who: Spock & The Doctor (12).
What: Just getting an annual paradox check-up from a licensed time physician. No biggie. Takes place after this!
When: Tuesday, June 6th.
Where: The Doctor's office (get it??) at the Abacus Institute in Ravenmoore.
Warnings: Discussions of genocide and diaspora.
Status: Incomplete.
Spock made her way to the Doctor's office with no small amount of trepidation. She wanted answers, of course, more desperately than she let on, but it seemed as though her predicament could be far more grave than she'd initially surmised. Had their brief encounters with alternate universes altered more than just events? Was the Enterprise now trapped in a time loop, unable to reach Preya? And worst of all, did exposure to these anomalies mean Spock was now a threat to everyone living here?
She stopped just outside the office labeled 221, taking a moment to collect herself. After almost a year away from the rest of her crew, her heart ached to see them — to know what they might have thought of this place, good or otherwise. Spock couldn't help but imagine Dr. McCoy would have a few choice words to share about a Time Lord calling himself 'The Doctor.' It made her nostalgic, a particularly inconvenient emotion that seemed to linger more frequently as of late.
"Doctor?" Spock knocked, as was customary in this place. It took some getting used to after growing up in a universe that had no need for touching doors when they were all equipped with facial recognition software.
“Come in.” The Doctor was found sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up, an electric guitar on his lap and dark sunglasses upon his face. He was focused upon tuning the strings to first look up to see who his guest was, but when he finally did, his face brightened with a wide, toothsome grin.
“Spock!” he declared, recognizing the trademark Vulcan pointy ears and eyebrows. “This is brilliant! Sit down!” He offered a chair on the opposite side of the desk with a gesture of his hand.
His office was spacious, with floors and walls richly polished wood, and windows of leaded glass with stained glass panels decorations in the middle. There were no lack of shelves behind him, holding an impressive collection of books from various places and various eras on an even wider variety of subjects. Upon his desk, besides his boots, were many curious items, including a white quill and inkwell, a carved statue of a black bird, a snow globe, numerous slides scattered in a messy pile, an empty tin full not with pencils and pens but a variety of some sort of scientific instruments, and a couple of standing picture frames, turned away from Spock so she couldn’t readily see the images behind the glass plate. However, the most curious thing in the whole room was a blue, British police box in the corner, far too big to have been brought in through the door, or even the window.
“I once traveled with somebody who used to call me Spock,” the Doctor said, “but I don’t see the resemblance at all.”
Spock's gaze roved over every inch of the office, curiosity piqued. While her own work at the Institute offered a shared office as well, hers was stark and minimalistic compared to this one, which appeared lived-in despite how little time the Doctor had actually been here. There were a variety of knickknacks and oddities, particularly the police box, which stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of the room. Her eyes lingered on it, realizing with no small amount of wonder and confusion that it couldn't have possibly fit through any available entrance. Was it capable of independent warp beaming?
She offered the Doctor a traditional Vulcan salute in greeting before taking a seat. He may not have met anyone from her world, but he knew a little bit about their culture — and that was enough for her. "Perhaps it was not in reference to your appearance so much as your way of life," Spock said, tilting her head a bit as she considered him. "You have already demonstrated knowledge of me. To which version were you referring? I have met two."
The minute he saw the Vulcan salute, the Doctor became like an excited child and returned the gesture, being the geek that he was, and was still smiling when she sat down. “Probably,” he responded. “I’m really not the emotionless type.” But her question had him stumped. “Urm… there are two other versions besides you? I’m only familiar with one. What’s the difference?”
Spock raised an eyebrow briefly, amused by the Doctor’s enthusiasm, though it was probably difficult to tell by her otherwise calm expression. "There is one who is older than I am, now an ambassador, who hails from a reality that was untouched by the anomaly I spoke of earlier. That same anomaly which disrupted my own timeline has altered the path of another Spock. He is my age." A short pause. "We both lost our home planets, which did not occur in the first timeline."
The Doctor concentrated, trying to picture in his mind the descriptions this Spock was giving of her other versions. But when she mentioned about losing home planets, he became suddenly sober. His lips parted slowly before he sympathetically said, “I didn’t know you lost your home planets.” This hit far too close to home. “My condolences. Are you and the other Spock the last of your kind? How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She inclined her head to express her gratitude when the Doctor offered condolences. It was still painful to talk about, though some time had passed since it happened. Even now it felt like poking an old wound that had yet to fully heal. "That is correct. Only 10,000 Vulcans remain in each of our respective realities." Spock observed the Doctor's reaction to this news, wondering whether he had also experienced something similar to this unimaginable horror. For his sake, she hoped not. "Red matter — a substance capable of organically creating a black hole — was drilled into the center of our planet and ignited. Nothing was left in the blast. It obliterated everything."
Lips pursed together, face set like stone, the Doctor was upset by the description of how not only one, but two Vulcan planets were destroyed in the same manner. There was a time when he’d bring up the annihilation of his own Gallifrey, leaving him and one other Time Lord as the last of their race, probably going into a self-pitying spiral about how alone he was. But he’d matured since then, and realized that right now, it wasn’t about him. While Spock came from a race that purported to be completely logical, he knew from the television series that Spock did, in fact, have emotions from his mother’s side, and so would most likely be affected by the loss. Instead of stealing the spotlight for himself, the best thing to do under these circumstances was to offer empathy.
He took his feet off the desk and set his guitar down upon the stand beside his chair. “Your people are strong. It may be a diaspora for now, but they’ll survive, flourish, and eventually populate another planet that they’ll be able to call their new home.” He spoke with conviction, there was no doubt in his statement.
"I agree. The statistical likelihood of their survival is high." Spock took out her PADD tablet and offered it to the Doctor after activating it. Upon the screen blinked an advanced settlement blueprint. "As you can see, the refugees have already established a colony for themselves. It is called New Vulcan. I am kept informed of their progress by the Ambassador." Spock's language, while subtle, deliberately distanced herself from the remaining Vulcans. It wasn't that she considered herself different from them, despite many who tried to make her feel that way. This had more to do with the fact that, on numerous occasions, Spock received messages from the colony reiterating her 'duty' as a woman. It made her skin crawl, and she refused to respond to the insinuation that she was somehow less Vulcan because she wouldn't assist in their repopulation efforts.
It was a complicated matter, one she hadn't discussed with anyone else. And she had no intention of starting now, so Spock changed subjects. Back to business. "You said you possessed the ability to determine paradoxes. I would appreciate your help now."
The Doctor accepted the tablet; technology like this was common enough for him, but there was enough differences that piqued his curiosity, making him wonder how it was built. He turned it in his hands first, even twisting it around to look on the other side, before actually looking at the information. A small smile appeared upon his face, content at seeing the image, and he nodded once to acknowledge what she’d said. “While you’re off exploring strange new worlds, seeking out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before,” by the end of his sentence, his voice rose dramatically, mimicking William Shatner’s voice at the beginning of the Star Trek show he was familiar with, but it returned to normal when he continued, “An excellent pursuit, exploring. I’m the same way, but not exactly in the same way. Mind if I check this tablet out?”
Before Spock had a chance to give him permission, the Doctor leaned over and plucked a sonic screwdriver from out of the can on his desk and started scanning the device. He didn’t even look up when he told her, “Oh, you’re fine. No paradoxes on you. I could tell the moment you walked in the room.”
Spock wondered if the Doctor had the ability to perform a skill similar to the mind meld. It was as if he'd plucked her anxiety about New Vulcan right from her head and studied it, just as he was doing with the PADD now. But, no. She would have sensed someone attempting to read her thoughts. And he had mentioned a familiarity with a version of her crew in another universe, which might explain how he knew about Kirk's words to the newly assembled Enterprise. It felt like a very long time ago.
The only surprise that registered on her face was a slow, measured blink. "You are certain of this?" Spock asked, because she was nothing if not thorough. "I was not affected by the time rupture?"