“Live long and prosper.”
The words leave a sour taste in his mouth. Spock walks out of the room with long, heavy strides, leaving perturbed Vulcan members behind him. Through their parental bond, he can sense the distinguished anger radiating from his father, but that does not restrict his movements. He continues to walk – ignoring his mother, who tries to persuade him into talking. The heat hits him as he walks outside. Orange and red hues overwhelm his vision, and he does not wait for his eyes to adjust. He has followed this route home every day for the past 5 years with his father.
How dare the Vulcan members insult his mother and her heritage? Nothing about his mother can be logically considered a disadvantage. Based on logic, her heritage would be an advantage. He has been top student in all of his classes through his child and adolescence years. Not once has he fallen short.
He agreed to follow the Vulcan way, but he never agreed to go against his mother. Loyalty and logic are two aspects that he has learned through his life to be what Vulcans honored most. That was not the case in this situation. They proved themselves to be hypocrites. He cannot be a part of their society.
The walk home is busy and hectic – not the way he is used to. He merely catches signs of security breaches and violations of a group of people. It is occurring in another vector, so Spock is not phased and continues his walk. When he gets home, he makes his way to the deck in the back of the home. It overlooks the red city, and Spock studies the sights below him.
His mother told him once that this was her favorite place to think, no matter how many times him and his father told her that a favored spot is not logical. The balcony was her favorite spot, and Spock tries to understand as he stands in the destined spot.
The sight was not particularly offering tranquility, nor are the sounds from the town below. It does not create an atmosphere for meditation, but Spock does not leave. He stands there in hopes to experience what his mother does.
Until one of the screens light up in warning.
“SECURITY BREACH. INVASION. BE ALARMED TO ALIEN LIFEFORMS WITH NO CLEARANCE.”
A screen activates in the distance, revealing a patch of the crowded city. Spock tilts his head in observation, inspecting the camera as it zooms in to follow a man and a woman. Security guards are chasing them with phasers, running and dodging civilians.
The man was a blonde human with tight-fitting clothes and phasers and a communicator on his belt. His movement is erratic, yet precise. His body is buff and toned, though it does not work against him based on how fast he is moving. The woman was pale white, inhuman, and quick. She was slender with muscled arms and legs as she powers through the crowd with the male. She also was armed, but she only held a small device in her hand.
They look familiar.
“They are titled the Misfits.”
Spock raises his eyebrow at the idiocy of such a name. He does recall hearing the alias from peers at school.
“It is, perhaps, based on philosophy. The way they do not fit the criteria of their surroundings. Most of them are human. Another example of their illogical human tendencies. Not an efficient way of life.”
Spock asks calmly, “Please vocalize your thoughts, father.”
“The fact that you require the presence of humans, rather than your own people, is not satisfactory.”
“I do not require the presence of humans, father,” Spock starts successfully without a sigh. He turns to his father. “I simply do not see a disadvantage of having a human mother.”
“You decided to follow the Vulcan way. Your mother states she is not emotionally affected by your actions. There is no logical reason for your outbursts,” Sarek declares with piercing, unmoving eyes.
“I see more efficiency with my work under Starfleet,” Spock comments bluntly.
“A Vulcan in Starfleet?” Sarek says with a small widening of his eyes – displaying as much emotion as a Vulcan is able to. He grows cold and stern again, turning his head to eye the screen. The riot continues with no progression to capturing the invaders.
“You might consider yourself a Misfit, Spock.”
Spock does not respond, proceeding to watch the screen. He sees a group of Vulcan security guards gaining up to the female. They reach out to her neck in order to neck pinch her into unconsciousness. The hand is only 2.36 inches away from her shoulder, when suddenly the girl surges forward, bringing the device close to her chest and clicking the button. Her body then fades with bright blue and white sparks before fading completely.
Spock furrows his eyebrows in confusion, tracking the camera as it works to focus on the refugees. It points to the blonde male now.
He now realizes the human male was named James T. Kirk. He was the captain of the Misfits. He’s only seen the man once on the news. Not much information about the Misfits are known. Only that James T. Kirk formed the group over the years, his father was George Kirk, and the only person he truly trusts is his primary physician. No one knows the name of said doctor, only that one or two civilians have heard James shout out ‘Bones’.
The Misfits got into the public eye by James stealing a ship from Starfleet. That was when it was only him, his doctor, and an engineer. Through time, the Misfits have gained numbers by flying through the galaxy to fix problems here and there. Starfleet did not like the Misfits, calling them rebels, troublemakers, and lunatics with false purpose.
His father once informed him that James T. Kirk badgers Starfleet with insane stories every other day, which the organization never believes. He also once hailed his father, but Spock never found out why.
The camera suddenly moves to catch up to the now sprinting human, and it makes it appear as if the human was running towards the camera. Spock tilts his head curiously, finding the human aesthetically pleasing to look at. His blonde hair looks soft while he runs, and he’s wearing a tight-fitting blue jacket. Sweat droplets dribble down his neck and arms, but he does not run any slower.
Spock startles back when suddenly the male turns his face to the camera and winks.
Feeling an odd sense of embarrassment, though, it is impossible for the human to have known he was looking. He could easily be winking at a friend or a foe. He cannot possibly know who he is.
Kirk holds up an identical object to his female partner. He throws a wink at the camera one more time before clicking the button. His body disappears within seconds.
Spock is surprised when the camera catches a shot of James T. Kirk miles away on the other side of the city. Another screen comes on and captures another Kirk running.
“Holographic technology,” Spock mutters in disbelief.
“Exactly. Do you like it?”
Spock turns around to find James T. Kirk in front of him with a phaser pointed at him. A smile toys on Kirk’s lips, and Spock spots how lazily he is holding the weapon. The fact that Kirk came here with all the struggle, does not deter Spock into thinking he’s harmless or unable to pull the trigger.
The last thing he remembers thinking is how blue his eyes are in the Vulcan sunlight.
Spock wakes slowly, noting the engine thrumming lightly under his feet. He sits up from his horizontal position, and he peers around the room to find himself in a brig of a ship.
He must have been stunned and brought aboard.
The outline of the doorway glows a light purple, subtly proving it is there. There are two couches in the room, and it gives Spock an illusion of normalcy.
Until he spots the ship’s name on the wall.
A certain dread grows in his chest, reciting the history of the U.S.S. Franklin. The ship was built and launched between stardates 2145 and 2151. It was the first ship to reach warp 4. It was commanded by a vet, Captain Balthazar Edison. The ship had suddenly vanished in 2164 while going on a mission in the Gagarin Radiation Belt. The ship has not been heard or thought about since, due to Starfleet giving up on and deciding it must have been Romulans.
That was obviously not the case. Danger drums in his head, and he ponders how threatening the situation was. The disappearance of the U.S.S. Franklin was hundreds of Terran years ago. There is not a plausible explanation on why the Misfits have it. Are the Misfits allied with the Romulans. Did they capture Spock for leverage?
He must get off this ship and inform his father and the Federation of his discovery, and to remove himself from these dangers. These outlaws are to be arrested and charged for their actions.
His sensitive ears pick up footsteps from far away. He hears soft whispers between two people, and Spock goes over to the doorway to interrogate.
The voices slowly become clearer, “…I think the Captain was sort of harsh with you, but you did deserve it. You know how he feels about tribbles.”
“One tribble for a small price of two! It was a great bargain. I thought it was worth it. I was going to get McCoy to neuter it, so it doesn’t cause any problems…”
“Yeah, except you didn’t think it’d somehow make its way to the Captain while he’s eating and eat his salad. You’re lucky it ate his salad and not a steak, or the poor thing would have been thrown overboard with a launcher rather than simply sold to the highest bidder on Rakella Prime.”
Spock hears a small huff of annoyance.
“Now, remember. Do not touch this guy’s hands. Don’t want him reading your thoughts. They can do that, you know.”
At least this crew’s knowledge on the Vulcan race is limited.
The other voice scowls, “That isn’t what Lieutenant Uhura said-“
“Just don’t touch him, Brutus,” the other voice growls.
Spock steps up when the two guards become visible. The one in red has to be head of security, and Spock is surprised to find that he is human. He was tall and wide, arms built with muscle. He appears far more threatening than the other guard. The other man was smaller and Ramuran. The Ramuran looks at him wearily, while the other stands sturdy and strong.
The Ramuran holds up a tray of food – Spock notices salad and soup – and brings it closer. Spock makes eye contact with the other man and announces, “I do not require nutrition. I require verbal discussion with the Captain over my residence on this historically stolen ship.”
The head of security grunts, “The Captain is busy right now.” He takes the tray and presses a button to remove the forcefield in order to slide it into the brig. He restores the forcefield, “Now, eat. CMO’s orders.”
Spock raises an eyebrow, “Fascinating. I would not believe such a distasteful organization of criminals would have a functional line of departments.”
While the Ramuran’s jaw drops in shock at Spock’s words, the human male breaks out in amusement. His laugh is deep and loud, and his cheeks redden with merriment.
“Oh, boy, the Captain is going to love you. Welcome aboard the Misfits.”