bunnylane74 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bunnylane74) wrote2016-11-14 01:18 pm
bunnylane74) wrote2016-11-14 01:18 pm
Night Voices
I wrote this on 2015-02-28 after Leonard Nimoy died. I Loved reading Culbreath, and Marshak's little Anthologies of Star Trek Stories and the Afterword with Nichelle Nichols always stuck in my mind. It's just a little salute to the man who brought to life a great character. I originally Published it on both Fanfiction.net and A03.
********
Night shift on the Enterprise, it is not a true night considering the Enterprise was not currently in orbit around a sun. Night shift here is an artificial construct, lowered lighting to orient the different species to somewhat familiar routine for most of them. First Officer Spock is finally off shift. The last of the away team reports are filed, and sent to Starfleet headquarters, the last of the data tapes have been cataloged and stored. It is now time for meditation and a little well deserved sleep.
His quarters are dark and warm, comforting after the perpetual chill, of the ship’s common temperature. The incense scent is inviting, soothing to the mind. The hard surface of his meditation seat is a perfect complement to tired muscles, beneficial to meditation. His eyes close and he begins clearing his mind of all the soft echoes of his crew-mates’ loud emotions. Gently sweeping them out to clear his mind and focus on nothing.
A soft but strong echo refuses to be cleared. Contained grief and pain, shared by many minds, reaching out to his. A swift rejection but still it remains patiently until that human curiosity gently taps at it.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for what? Who are you? How do you know me?” The voice, is many voices, all speaking together, chiming with their shades of sorrow, it tears at his emotional barriers. Not with ferocity but with the poignant razor touch of loss.”
“Thank you Spock, son of Sarek, for giving us an actor who played you so well.”
“Fascinating, who is this actor, and how did I give him to you?”
“To us, you were written, by a man who shared with a world his great vision of what the universe could be. He hired an actor to breathe life into his portrayal of you. Whether or not you will exist in our future someday, is not yet known. And we will never know. But that wonderful writer and actor are now gone. The actor passed this day. He gave those of us who are outcast, someone to look up to. Those who are not accepted by their People the strength to find their own place in the world, and so now we grieve. “
“I grieve with thee.”
“We grieve with thee. And Possible Spock, whether you are or are not, might be or shall be; may many other young lives look up to you, and see what can be. “
Dark eyes open, eyebrows arch, and the soft whisper of the many voices fade.
“Fascinating.”
Notes:
Thank you, Leonard Nimoy. You gave the world a character that became an icon for many. For those who felt like an outcast, you proved to us we can make a place for ourselves in the world. Rest in Peace, and be reunited for your crew mates who have gone before.
********
Night shift on the Enterprise, it is not a true night considering the Enterprise was not currently in orbit around a sun. Night shift here is an artificial construct, lowered lighting to orient the different species to somewhat familiar routine for most of them. First Officer Spock is finally off shift. The last of the away team reports are filed, and sent to Starfleet headquarters, the last of the data tapes have been cataloged and stored. It is now time for meditation and a little well deserved sleep.
His quarters are dark and warm, comforting after the perpetual chill, of the ship’s common temperature. The incense scent is inviting, soothing to the mind. The hard surface of his meditation seat is a perfect complement to tired muscles, beneficial to meditation. His eyes close and he begins clearing his mind of all the soft echoes of his crew-mates’ loud emotions. Gently sweeping them out to clear his mind and focus on nothing.
A soft but strong echo refuses to be cleared. Contained grief and pain, shared by many minds, reaching out to his. A swift rejection but still it remains patiently until that human curiosity gently taps at it.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for what? Who are you? How do you know me?” The voice, is many voices, all speaking together, chiming with their shades of sorrow, it tears at his emotional barriers. Not with ferocity but with the poignant razor touch of loss.”
“Thank you Spock, son of Sarek, for giving us an actor who played you so well.”
“Fascinating, who is this actor, and how did I give him to you?”
“To us, you were written, by a man who shared with a world his great vision of what the universe could be. He hired an actor to breathe life into his portrayal of you. Whether or not you will exist in our future someday, is not yet known. And we will never know. But that wonderful writer and actor are now gone. The actor passed this day. He gave those of us who are outcast, someone to look up to. Those who are not accepted by their People the strength to find their own place in the world, and so now we grieve. “
“I grieve with thee.”
“We grieve with thee. And Possible Spock, whether you are or are not, might be or shall be; may many other young lives look up to you, and see what can be. “
Dark eyes open, eyebrows arch, and the soft whisper of the many voices fade.
“Fascinating.”
Notes:
Thank you, Leonard Nimoy. You gave the world a character that became an icon for many. For those who felt like an outcast, you proved to us we can make a place for ourselves in the world. Rest in Peace, and be reunited for your crew mates who have gone before.