taxonomites | 001 [holo] veh

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001 [holo] veh

This was a room he had never seen before, and hardly where Spock had been expecting to turn up when he had stepped onto the transporter pad. It hadn't been all that long since the crew had formed itself around the incorrigible bravado of James Tiberius Kirk, but there was that element of trust among all of them that only a massively traumatizing and life-threatening encounter could create.

This just rang too close to sloppy work done far too quickly. Hardly what he had come to expect and surprising enough that he spoke to someone not there without remembering that he wouldn't be heard if he didn't say it into a communicator.

"I believe you may have missed, Mr. Scott." It was only after he had spoken the words that he realized that the lack of communication devices would make it impossible to speak to those on board the Enterprise, and yet, when he searched for his, it came up missing (he had been certain that he had put it on his belt next to the phaser that was also gone. It was supposed to be standard equipment after all).

The next logical thing, then, was some kind of practical joke, though he had assumed that the crew members would know better than to try it on him as he would not give them the reaction that these kinds of things always seemed to call for. He arched one angular eyebrow over his alien eyes and spoke again to invisible people that might well have been listening from behind the strange metal walls.

"This is no time to make a vain attempt at humor." This mission was supposed to be important and they were wasting time-

-but there was no response. Hardly unexpected, though still almost-frustrating in that way that only a Vulcan could understand- emotional and not all at once.

"I am afraid that I fail to understand the joke." Hadn't he mentioned that these kinds of things escaped his understanding once before? Illogical and unnecessary, all of it. These things served no purpose, and yet humans seemed entirely fascinated by them. It was rapidly becoming apparent, though, that this was no prank, and that perhaps there was no Enterprise nearby to hear him- even if he had his communicator with him.

All he could do, then, was explore this strange room that he had ended up in. Metal. Nothing he had ever seen before, and his scientist's hands itched to be holding his tricorder and find out what it was. What this was.

He took a few steps and nearly tripped over an object at his feet- his lyre, strange thing to have in the room with him. It served no purpose now and he had left it behind in his rooms. It would have been illogical to bring it with him. Still, he cared for it as much as he could care for an item, and he bent down to retrieve the fragile, stringed thing from the floor where it was certainly unsafe.

"This is entirely illogical. Cease these actions immediately and return me to the planet's surface."

A last ditch effort, perhaps. The feel of wood beneath his fingers as he cradled his instrument gently in his hands made it fairly certain that this was no prank. In which case, his first priority was survival in whatever place this was. And that meant leaving this room.

Though the means to accomplish that were hardly apparent.

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Kirk may not be a Vulcan or understand the principles of logic as well as Spock does, but he's read up on the theory of it and humans are not immune to logic. In fact, many of them cling to it and rely on it for a sensible explanation to things. God knows he spent weeks upon weeks after he first arrived, tearing this ship apart in a desperate quest to find out how the bridge managed to function without other, vital parts of the Enterprise to make things like sensors work. He stopped trying to figure that out long ago; it was easier just to go along with it.

He shrugged. "The aliens want us to feel like we're home, is the best deduction we've made. Give us pieces of home to help make the transition easier."

"I see." Even though he really didn't. None of it made any sense, really. The ideal situation, of course, was not to be here in the first place, but there was no changing that they were now with, evidently, no way to leave. All that he really could do was go with what they did have- a strange city, supposedly underground, with no knowledge of how they got there or what they might do now. At least part of the Enterprise was there, which was certainly better than nothing, but still entirely unhelpful.

Kirk arched a suspicious eyebrow at his first officer. He didn't know the man too well, but he can gauge based on what he does know that Spock didn't understand. But then again, who did in this place? The aliens had yet to be clear in their actions and though Kirk had his own set of theories, as well as the one Fred Burkle had, nothing was set in stone. Perhaps one of the most frustrating things about being in Taxon was having nothing solid to go off of.

"They gave you..." He leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the image. "A harp?"

Involuntarily, he held the lyre closer to him, almost cradling the fragile thing in his arms as though he were trying to protect it from some unseen danger at the inquisition. There were more useful items he could have been given, certainly, but there was nothing particularly odd about the instrument- except that it was here.

The answer was simple enough, though it didn't precisely explain anything.

"No."

Perhaps one of the most frustrating things Kirk found about holding a conversation with a Vulcan was the short, simple and to the point answers. There was no elaborations, no tangents to spark other discussion topics, just what you asked and needed to know. He sighed.

"What is it, then?"

Spock's remarks were never intended to be frustrating- merely accurate and to the point without wasting unnecessary time on such things as elaboration or analysis. That it was exasperating to his human counterparts was hardly his fault.

"A Vulcan lyre."

Part of him is disappointed that the aliens didn't give Spock a piece of their ship, but that's just his selfish desire to have all of the Enterprise with him. Collect the pieces as he collects people - how foolish is that? The other part is amused and it's that part that he displaces with that look on his face that clearly says as much.

"Why Spock, I didn't know you played."

"There has hardly been a reason or sufficient time of late." What with encroachment on their own timeline by vengeance-crazed Romulans in possession of inexplainable technology. Even before that, his duties as an instructor at the Academy had taken precedence over music, though he had found some time to practice when he was alone. But he hadn't known Jim yet.

"I imagine that in this place finding that time will not be difficult."

Kirk just continued to look amused. Perhaps it was bad to dive into a trolling sort of angle with the Vulcan, but ah, old habits died hard and he was grateful fro the familiarity this situation brought him, where so many things about Taxon were so deep rooted in the crazy and the past that it was like watching some file out of the archives of Earth's history than something he was actually living.

"You need to pick up the tablet to leave, Commander. Doors won't open unless you've got it in hand."

That seemed like an entirely illogical way to lock a door, aside from it locking him in rather than out. Still, Spock was hardly the one that had spent any time here, so all that he really could do was defer to the captain's statement and pick up the device- sure enough and right on cue, the door opened. That led to some rather pointed staring at the both strange and almost-familiar device.

"...fascinating."

"Hang tight, Commander. I'll be there shortly."

Faster, if the transporter room was still attached to the ship, but that had vanished with Uhura. ...he wasn't sure if he was going to tell Spock about her being here, just yet. Later, maybe. Certainly not now.

There was a comment hovering around his lips about how "hang tight" was an illogical expression, but Spock opted, instead, to nod silently and move outside, though he didn't stray very far. No need to get himself lost in a strange place that he had never seen before. At the very least there was one person here that he actually knew and trusted.

Eventually, Kirk stepped off one of the trams in Central and made his way to the Sanctuary. He hated that building, for bringing people and for generally being this infuriating structure that wouldn't offer up any answers to their questions, only more things worthy of an inquiry.

"Spock?"

The sound of that voice made Spock straighten almost unconsciously- but then, it was near impossible for a Vulcan to be entirely unconscious of anything. He straightend his uniform with his free hand and tried not to think about how illogical this place really was.

"Captain."

Kirk waved him off. "At ease, Spock. I'm not in uniform. It's 'Jim', alright?"

"I will be certain to keep that in mind." He debated briefly putting the word "captain" at the end but decided against it, instead letting Jim draw his own conclusions from the lack of a name or title.

Kirk arched an eyebrow at the lack of address, proper and improper alike. At least he left off his rank. That was a start, at least.

"C'mon, let's get to the ship." He turned and gestured for the Vulcan to follow as he led the way to the tram.

There was, perhaps, a microsecond of a pause before Spock followed- barely perceptible, but still there- as he decided to save further questioning until later when he felt a little safer. That expression certainly didn't help, either, and somehow he successfully resisted the urge to raise his own eyebrow in response. Time for all of that later.

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001 [holo] veh

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[ visual ] Semi-matching icons!

[ location: the sanctuary ]

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