#selek

“Commander, I was informed that the laboratories are in need of an additional officer,” you queried, rapping singularly on the door of the science department and glancing in at Spock, examining what appeared to be some form of eucalyptus. “I am afraid you may have been given false information, Lieutenant,” he stated, looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You growled, irritably, turning away. “Thank you for your honesty, Commander. I believe we both know where I will be going, now,” you answered, preparing yourself to storm down the corridors. “I cannot condone such an unwise action,” Spock answered, and you once again recognised his hand on your clothed wrist. It had become almost expected that his hands rested on your sleeve, brushing against you lightly in corridors or on the bridge. You brushed it off as an attempt to gently reintroduce the casual physical contact which was consistently lacking on New Vulcan. “Given that you are already here, may I ask your help with the away mission I am currently planning? We have been informed that there may be injured fauna close to our landing site, which poses both moral and tactical dilemmas.”

“Spock! Y/N!” Jim summoned both of you to his chair, waving his PADD around, dramatically. “May I ask why Y/N has been assigned to an away mission two days before her probation ends?” “My probationary period ended last Friday, Jim,” you frowned, in response. “You’re a week behind. And I was selected because the indecisiveness which you are so irritated by made me the most qualified candidate. I have science, medical, and tactical training which allow me to deal easily with injured fauna, as well as communication skills if necessary.” “There is meant to be no intelligent life on this planet,” he answered, raising an eyebrow at Spock. “Nevertheless, Captain,” Spock chimed in, placidly, “In light of our previous experiences, there is a projected 79.4% chance that an unexpected situation, involving either dangerous climatic conditions or alien lifeforms will occur. Lieutenant Pike’s skills make her the most qualified candidate for adapting to an alteration to our schedule.” “If we work by that logic, Y/N would be on every away mission,” Jim huffed, rolling his eyes. “Indeed, Captain,” Spock responded, tilting his head, “Overlooking extenuating circumstances, Lieutenant Y/L/N would be a useful asset in most situations.”

“A useful asset,” you mused, flopping onto Jim’s bed as he clattered through his bathroom.  “That’s high praise from Spock,” he pointed out, emerging topless and wrapped in a towel. “Oh. You weren’t complaining.” You grinned up at him. “The last Vulcan who said anything even close to that was Selek,” you answered, as he pulled on a pair of pants. “And that was after six months of slaving over reestablishing the entirety of Vulcan society on a different planet.” “Ok, I get it,” he laughed, throwing himself onto the bed beside you. “You’re ecstatic. Which totally has nothing to do with the not-crush you don’t have on my First Officer.” You slapped him with a pillow. “Shut up. I’m done talking about that absolute non-thing with you. Or anyone.” You smiled despite yourself. “What’s today’s idea to get both of us into trouble?” He grinned, blue eyes lighting up with mischief. “Are you wearing socks*?”

“Scotty! I finished the repairs in the artillery bay!” you yelled, hurriedly wiping grease from your hands. “I need to get to the bridge!” “Aye, one sec, take those,” he emerged from under the console he was mending to wave vaguely at a pile of folders on the desk. “And tell yer pesky brother ah wan’ due warnin’ before our next inspection!” “I’ll be sure to pass on the sentiments” you smiled, snatching up the reports and sprinting for the turbo lift. You dodged Hawkins on the way up with a brusque nod, before skidding into the lift next to Hendorff. You greeted him, with a smile, before quickly forcing your knotted hair into some semblance of neatness, tucking any stray strands out of your face.

“Permission to enter the bridge,” you requested, not waiting for Jim’s response. You smiled at Uhura as she stood to take her break, and danced over to place a warm kiss on Jim’s cheek. “I have a present for you, Captain.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, making your grin widen as you dumped the reports on his lap. “Courtesy of the Chief Engineer. I believe it could be considered revenge for the short notice on that inspection. The amount of burns I got scrambling for last minute repairs that weren’t even urgent is unholy, James.” “Ooh, full name, someone’s in trouble,” Bones laughed, broadly, as he entered the bridge. “Permission to enter the bridge, Captain? Granted, Bones,” Jim mimicked, under his breath. “Spock, is there something else I need to do with these reports or can I send them to filing?” “I would recommend a thorough check for...unorthodox language, prior to filing,” Spock answered, rising to join the gathering around the Captain’s chair. “I checked them,” you offered, easily, skittering away to your chair to avoid the errand-running. “They should be up to scratch.”

“Up to scratch?” Spock questioned, tilting his head. “Apologies, Commander, I am beginning to use human idioms again,” you replied, turning back to him. “I have always had trouble with them. They should meet the desired standard for submission.” Spock hummed, curiously, and furrowed his brow. “Are you alright, Commander?” “Quite, Lieutenant,” he responded, with a brief nod. “Simply curious. Often these idioms make very little sense even to those saying them.” “I find the etymological origins can be quite helpful in understanding their use,” you agreed, nodding, “Up to scratch, for example, comes from several sources in which humans used a mark to indicate a required standard or position, but the primary use is from early boxing matches...recreational fighting, when a contestant was required to walk to the mark in a certain period of time to avoid defeat.” Jim and Bones stared at her, blankly, but Chekov and Sulu just smiled, shrugged and turned back to their stations. “Fascinating,” Spock nodded, once, then turned back to his place. “Thank you for your explanation, Lieutenant.” “You just had an entire conversation in Vulcan interspersed with Fed Standard,” Jim pointed out, scrunching up his nose. “Why not just Vulcan?” “Well, since the Commander understands both languages, rather than taking long pauses to find a translation for specific idioms, such as ‘up to scratch’ or ‘boxing’, it is easier to say the equivalent in Fed Standard,” you shrugged, crossing your legs beneath you, and running your fingers along the hem of your trousers. Jim opened his mouth to respond, but your earpiece hissed to life with a bell from the comm.“We have a transmission coming through from a Klingon starship.” You were almost alarmed by how calm your voice was, your smile dropping entirely. Bones cursed, as Jim gestured for you to play it.

Rules: Go to page 7 of a WIP, skip to the 7th line, share 7 sentences, and tag 7 more writers to continue the challenge

Sarek’s head bowed, dark eyes closing. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Spock bowed his head, deeply saddened that his counterpart’s last wishes were not respected. “Where . . . where is his katra, father? Who is housing it until an ark is created?”

Sarek raised his son’s hand, pressing young fingers against sun-beaten features. “He is here, my son.”