[ Spock waits patiently for Jim's orders, relieved that he is not trying to split them apart. A first officer's duty is to his captain, and Spock takes that seriously. Especially in a situation such as this, when there are too many factors that Spock cannot control for, and the risk of danger is too high.
Spock does not require the use of any aids to keep track of time, so he does not bother checking the time as they head toward one of the housing areas. He'll keep Jim on track, if necessary.
The area is desolate, the stench of decay obvious and the amount of ruin not entirely in keeping with the reports. It was a wise decision to visit, as Spock can gain a much clearer vision of the truth. A truth that does not match what the officials have been discussing.
He is about to mention that to Jim when he hears a rustling from inside one of the broken houses, and grabs Jim's shoulder to point in that direction. ]
[ Jim is reckless at the best of times, especially when it comes to his own safety versus the safety of others, but he doesn't feel steady enough to cut off his own right hand in the form of Spock. He knows he's growing increasingly unpredictable the more time goes on, but it's a distant sort of revelation in the back of his mind.
He slows a bit as they come up on the first houses. He remembers what bothered him the most outside of the massacre itself---it was the empty houses. Empty houses with dust voids from valuables taken by the patrols, or the way the dust settled at all. How it caked down and touched everything with a grey reminiscent of death. His standard issue boots kick up the dust and it settles on his working uniform and his hands, and he finds himself staring at it numbly until Spock grabs his shoulder.
He catches a shadow of movement that most would dismiss, but ---god. He knows what it's like to turn into something else. To turn into a wraith and steal through the shadows during the brightest part of the day, and be wary of watching eyes because you have to survive. ]
On me. No phasers, keep it quiet.
[ Jim moves towards the house, trying to separate himself from the parallel memory that is trying to replay in his own head. Bootsteps over broken glass, dust kicking up, it's the guards it has to be. ]
This is Captain---[ Robert April of the---]---James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. We know you sent out for aid, we're here to help. I have a medical chief with me if you have wounded.
We have no affiliations with the government of your world. You're safe with us.
[ Jim puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender and also to show that he's unarmed. ]
[ Even if it were not Spock's duty to see to the protection and safety of the captain, he would stay at Jim's shoulder during this entire trip. It is too unpredictable, and Jim himself is acting too unpredictable, for Spock to be comfortable with allowing Jim to go anywhere without him.
He almost thinks about voicing an objection to Jim stepping forward toward the house, and he makes sure his phaser is easily accessible when Jim holds up his hands in a show of peace. It is not instinctual for Spock to react with violence immediately, but this entire world has him on edge. It is not a natural place, or one that invites a long life - and the best world for any individual is one in which they can prosper, which this colony does not offer. Perhaps once it did, but no longer.
Spock notices the shift of light from the corner of his eyes, and before he can move, a figure steps out of the shadows. Just a kid, young with old, world-weary eyes, and obviously malnourished. Spock does not react other than to take half a step toward Jim, waiting to see what he will do. The kid says nothing, just watches them with wary eyes, the handle of a shovel in his hand, a poor weapon against advanced technology. ]
[ When Jim finally sees the person, the child, come into view---he's struck dumb for a handful of seconds. He knows that look, at least, he can imagine it well enough. He imagines Robert April saw it when he picked him up and carried him back to safe transport coordinates. The only thing he has to go off of was looking in the mirror at the age of 13 and not recognizing the face staring back at him. The way his clothes fell off of him in all the wrong ways for months after.
He keeps his hands up, and finally brings himself back to the moment. He offers a small, barely there smile. It hurts, seeing the shovel handle in the child's hands, and remembers hitting April with a pipe he'd been using for protection. The kid is doing better than he was. Jim couldn't even stand when he was found. ]
Hey, there. No one here is going to hurt you. How about you put that down, if you feel up to it, and come over here with us?
[ The kid takes a step back when Jim steps forward, and he stops. He knows that fear. The distrust. ]
You're going to be okay, now. I promise. We're gonna take you up to my ship, the Enterprise, and help you get better. It's nice there. Warm and safe. Plenty of food and water, I bet we can find something you like.
[ For all that Spock actively likes children - they are generally simple, their minds curious and bright, the promise of a future in their hands - he is ill-equipped to deal with them but in the most proscribed situations. Certainly not one such as this, terrified and broken in so many ways that Spock has trouble banking his disgust for the individuals who would allow such harm to come to a child. So he simply stands a few paces from Jim's shoulder, ready to jump forward if an attack happens but giving the captain the chance to plead with the child.
The kid eyes them all warily, but Spock watches him lock onto Jim's face eventually. Distrust is plainly written in his features, hardened and unyielding.
"Why should I trust you? You're just like all of 'em, buncha adults promisin' things they can't deliver. Got here too late to help the others." He kicks at the ground, sending off a cloud of dust that rises in the slight breeze.
Spock mentally reviews the reports and cannot recall any mentions of children dying in masses. Just like there were not any reports of survivors here, or the sheer destruction. He wonders how many others there are. ]
[ The child reminds Jim of so many things he’s tried to bury. So many things that made him the angry young man he was before he joined Starfleet. The man who fought tooth and nail for no reason at all. Who scoffed at Pike’s offer to join the fleet and make a difference. What difference did they make when it counted?
Where had they been when it mattered? What was the point of being too late?
April was there for he and Thomas. Now Jim has a chance to make that difference for someone else. God, while Pike had told him that he could make sure it never happened for someone else, he had hoped he would never have to be here. That he wouldn’t have to carry a child out of a nightmare.
Jim understands the distrust. He fought his own rescuer too. ] Because I’m not them. Because I’ve been where you are, and someone came for me when I needed them the most. I’m sorry we didn’t find out about this sooner, and that the apology doesn’t mean much, if anything. But I’m here now, and I will make certain that the people responsible for this answer for it.
[ He hazards another step forward, gauging the child’s reaction as he does, then another, and another until he is very much within hitting distance of the makeshift weapon. He makes a motion to indicate that Spock and the others stay where they are. If something happens, he can defend himself.
To be quite honest, there isn’t much of anything there to harm him, a wisp of a boy. He can handle it. ]
Now, how about we put that down, and you come with me, huh? I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.
[ Spock goes utterly still when Jim moves forward. Spock is a quiet, composed individual in most circumstances, a sharp contrast to many of the humans around him, who seem to be constantly in motion. He moves with purpose and reserves energy for when he does need to be in action. But his stillness now is different, carefully contained energy reserved for the potentiality of springing forward, should the need arise. He does not move - none of the team do - but he watches, wary and waiting for a wrong move, the sudden lifting of that shovel handle.
It is unnecessary, as the boy drops the shovel handle, the wood hitting the ground with a dull thud that lingers despite the lack of actual echo. It startles the kid enough that he jerks, but it's easy to see just how weakened he is by the lack of sustenance and the constant need for vigilance when he that is his only reaction. He's still watching Jim, eyes wary and uncertain.
"Promise?" he asks. "Nothing bad will happen?"
It is an illogical question, as no one can guarantee absolutely no harm, but this is why he is not one to provide sympathy or handle such delicate situations. Perhaps one day, but not now. Jim is the one equipped to handle terrified children.
[ Jim knows he's breaking about a dozen, if not more, protocols by doing what he is currently. That doesn't matter now. He's only relieved when the boy drops the shovel handle. He sees him jerk at the sound it makes, however slight, and takes another few cautious steps towards him.
He moves over, and kneels down in front of the kid, offering a smile. He remembers how it looked on another man's face. ]
I promise. I won't let anything bad happen. [ A beat. ] Now, what do you say we get out of here?
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no subject
Spock does not require the use of any aids to keep track of time, so he does not bother checking the time as they head toward one of the housing areas. He'll keep Jim on track, if necessary.
The area is desolate, the stench of decay obvious and the amount of ruin not entirely in keeping with the reports. It was a wise decision to visit, as Spock can gain a much clearer vision of the truth. A truth that does not match what the officials have been discussing.
He is about to mention that to Jim when he hears a rustling from inside one of the broken houses, and grabs Jim's shoulder to point in that direction. ]
Something over there, Captain.
no subject
He slows a bit as they come up on the first houses. He remembers what bothered him the most outside of the massacre itself---it was the empty houses. Empty houses with dust voids from valuables taken by the patrols, or the way the dust settled at all. How it caked down and touched everything with a grey reminiscent of death. His standard issue boots kick up the dust and it settles on his working uniform and his hands, and he finds himself staring at it numbly until Spock grabs his shoulder.
He catches a shadow of movement that most would dismiss, but ---god. He knows what it's like to turn into something else. To turn into a wraith and steal through the shadows during the brightest part of the day, and be wary of watching eyes because you have to survive. ]
On me. No phasers, keep it quiet.
[ Jim moves towards the house, trying to separate himself from the parallel memory that is trying to replay in his own head. Bootsteps over broken glass, dust kicking up, it's the guards it has to be. ]
This is Captain---[ Robert April of the---]---James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. We know you sent out for aid, we're here to help. I have a medical chief with me if you have wounded.
We have no affiliations with the government of your world. You're safe with us.
[ Jim puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender and also to show that he's unarmed. ]
no subject
He almost thinks about voicing an objection to Jim stepping forward toward the house, and he makes sure his phaser is easily accessible when Jim holds up his hands in a show of peace. It is not instinctual for Spock to react with violence immediately, but this entire world has him on edge. It is not a natural place, or one that invites a long life - and the best world for any individual is one in which they can prosper, which this colony does not offer. Perhaps once it did, but no longer.
Spock notices the shift of light from the corner of his eyes, and before he can move, a figure steps out of the shadows. Just a kid, young with old, world-weary eyes, and obviously malnourished. Spock does not react other than to take half a step toward Jim, waiting to see what he will do. The kid says nothing, just watches them with wary eyes, the handle of a shovel in his hand, a poor weapon against advanced technology. ]
no subject
He keeps his hands up, and finally brings himself back to the moment. He offers a small, barely there smile. It hurts, seeing the shovel handle in the child's hands, and remembers hitting April with a pipe he'd been using for protection. The kid is doing better than he was. Jim couldn't even stand when he was found. ]
Hey, there. No one here is going to hurt you. How about you put that down, if you feel up to it, and come over here with us?
[ The kid takes a step back when Jim steps forward, and he stops. He knows that fear. The distrust. ]
You're going to be okay, now. I promise. We're gonna take you up to my ship, the Enterprise, and help you get better. It's nice there. Warm and safe. Plenty of food and water, I bet we can find something you like.
no subject
The kid eyes them all warily, but Spock watches him lock onto Jim's face eventually. Distrust is plainly written in his features, hardened and unyielding.
"Why should I trust you? You're just like all of 'em, buncha adults promisin' things they can't deliver. Got here too late to help the others." He kicks at the ground, sending off a cloud of dust that rises in the slight breeze.
Spock mentally reviews the reports and cannot recall any mentions of children dying in masses. Just like there were not any reports of survivors here, or the sheer destruction. He wonders how many others there are. ]
no subject
Where had they been when it mattered? What was the point of being too late?
April was there for he and Thomas. Now Jim has a chance to make that difference for someone else. God, while Pike had told him that he could make sure it never happened for someone else, he had hoped he would never have to be here. That he wouldn’t have to carry a child out of a nightmare.
Jim understands the distrust. He fought his own rescuer too. ]
Because I’m not them. Because I’ve been where you are, and someone came for me when I needed them the most. I’m sorry we didn’t find out about this sooner, and that the apology doesn’t mean much, if anything. But I’m here now, and I will make certain that the people responsible for this answer for it.
[ He hazards another step forward, gauging the child’s reaction as he does, then another, and another until he is very much within hitting distance of the makeshift weapon. He makes a motion to indicate that Spock and the others stay where they are. If something happens, he can defend himself.
To be quite honest, there isn’t much of anything there to harm him, a wisp of a boy. He can handle it. ]
Now, how about we put that down, and you come with me, huh? I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.
no subject
It is unnecessary, as the boy drops the shovel handle, the wood hitting the ground with a dull thud that lingers despite the lack of actual echo. It startles the kid enough that he jerks, but it's easy to see just how weakened he is by the lack of sustenance and the constant need for vigilance when he that is his only reaction. He's still watching Jim, eyes wary and uncertain.
"Promise?" he asks. "Nothing bad will happen?"
It is an illogical question, as no one can guarantee absolutely no harm, but this is why he is not one to provide sympathy or handle such delicate situations. Perhaps one day, but not now. Jim is the one equipped to handle terrified children.
The boy seems reassured, at least, by Jim. ]
no subject
He moves over, and kneels down in front of the kid, offering a smile. He remembers how it looked on another man's face. ]
I promise. I won't let anything bad happen. [ A beat. ] Now, what do you say we get out of here?