S'ti th'laktra*

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Spock, as was his wont, had learned a great deal already about this ship and its technology, though his knowledge was far from complete.

Now, however, it was time for reflection.

The Sensoriums had become cavernous, old and temple-like. Large statues lined the walls, while smaller, urn-like ones were scattered in niches here and there. The air was hot and dry, enough to make most humans uncomfortable.

In the center of this space was what appeared to be some kind of altar. It was near this that Spock sat, his legs tucked underneath him as he meditated.

Meditation was fundamental to the Vulcan way of life. It was a tool, used to help focus the mind and provide greater emotional balance. It was also very difficult for Spock to do effectively since his arrival on this ship.

This facsimile of the Katric Ark was as exact a replica as Stacy could provide. In a physical sense, it was perfect - after all, it had pulled the images directly from Spock's eidetic memory. But the arks, the urns which had been made to store the katras of the most important and revered Vulcans in history, were all empty shells. One day, had Vulcan not been destroyed, had his universe not been ripped apart, Spock may have petitioned the elders to be granted access to the katras, to mind-meld with the likes of Surak himself. Maybe, in another life, he had.

There was much to think about, much to learn and do, on this ship, to fight the Ohm and destroy their menace. But first, Spock needed time to reflect on and accept the new emptiness in his mind. The destruction of his planet, the deaths of all those Vulcans and the severing of the telepathic bonds had been a profound shock to his system. That was nothing compared to this.

He was no longer a member of an endangered species. He was, in all likelihood, the last remnant of an extinct species.

*S'ti th'laktra = "I grieve with thee", standard Vulcan statement of condolence.

Comments

[capture-worlds.livejournal.com]

No matter where I go, not matter what I do, my photos still turn out off. Yes, Tsukasa, that is actually the best way to describe your photos after you develop them. He sighed and placed the photos in the same place where he kept his belt, and without looking, made a left turn...into a cavern system.

The caverns were large and ornate, giving off an air of being very well-maintained over a long period of time. This is incredible workmanship, He thought as he wandered the system, eventually coming upon a person meditating.

The photographer in him stirred, seeing an ideal moment to take a photo, so he set up his hand-held camera and, after lining up the shot the way he wanted, pressed the shudder.

*CLICK*

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Spock opened his eyes. Had this been the real Katric Ark, he may have taken offense at the stranger. No outsiders had ever been allowed to photograph it. His mother had been one of only a select handful of humans ever allowed inside.

"Is it generally acceptable in your universe of origin to take photographs of sentient subjects without prior consent?" he asked curiously.

[capture-worlds.livejournal.com]

Tsukasa shrugged. It generally wasn't acceptable in the 21st century he came from, but it never really stopped him.

"All things are possible in the Multiverse, correct?"

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

"Correct. However, the wisest course of action, when faced with a new life form, is to ask permission."

Someone and His Somewhere

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

It was a while after he'd tried to undergo self-education back in the media library. He'd ended up somewhat fruitful but he knew he had a long way to go. As it was, Renne's mind was constantly on the wander now just as much as he was physically wandering about.

His mind went down unspoken old roads.


The oddity had wandered for a while, only to end up back here at the Sensoriums edges.

The close-to-warm (to him), dry air is enough to elicit a small sigh from him; air like that had been a rare luxury in past adventures.
Past worlds. Past Times.
Unfamiliar as it is, he hesitates, sniffing. This isn't outside Iminiara'Lao, nor is it scented of anywhere familiar to him. It must therefore, be someone else's "somewhere".

Quietly, he waits for a minute, as if unsure of what to do. He's aware he's not alone and he's aware this isn't his somewhere.

So Renne sits at the edge of this somewhere and breathes. Restrains his calm but intense curiosity from tempting him to Transcend and learn. Restraining him from crawling further on.
It isn't his somewhere.

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Spock was aware that he wasn't alone. Even a human, in this quiet setting, likely would have been able to hear the odd creature. It was not a disturbance, certainly not more of a disturbance than what lingered in Spock's own mind and soul.

He opened his eyes.

"Renne."

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

"Eee. Pock-kit." Chirp.

His ears give a twitch forward but right now, the oddity doesn't proceed onward. Simply put, this isn't 'his' place as it were and he knows it. Absently, a webbed hand/paw pets across the hair of an ever-present stuffed toy tucked under his other arm.
It may not be surprising that he doesn't move yet, or the moment of silence between his hello and his next words.

"Haow Pock-kit be?"

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

An interesting question, deceptively simple. Spock tilted his head, aware of the respect being granted by Renne's distance. "I am... adequate, though my mind is troubled. You may explore, if you wish."

[sooraya.livejournal.com]

The place looked wonderfully ancient, and curiously alien to her. But she had been wandering aimlessly these past few days, feeling sort of... empty. As though she was forgetting something.

She was wearing a long tunic over her plant-suit and an elegantly wrapped scarf covered her hair and ears. She walked inside the Sensorium with an air of reverence. Even the heat didn't really bother her, despite all her coverings. To be frank, it reminded her of the deserts of Afghanistan, a place full of both happy and tragic memories.

Someone was already in the space, looking as though they were deep in thought, or perhaps in prayer. Sooraya approached the man, but stayed well away from the altar.

"If I may ask," she said quietly, "what is this place? It's... beautiful."

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Beautiful was not a word that a Vulcan would've used to describe this place, although the feelings behind it would not be dissimilar, Spock thought.

"It is a site of cultural and historical significance to my species. A place of meditation, known as the Katric Ark. Much knowledge was stored here."

[sooraya.livejournal.com]

She tilted her head, genuinely interested.

"And what - again, if I may ask - are you, then? Where do you come from?"

Sooraya had certainly not seen anyone like Spock in her life. "And... where would you store something?" It appeared, to her, as though it was just an eloquently crafted cave.

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

"I am Spock. My home planet was called Vulcan. I am half-Vulcan."

He paused a moment, considering her last question. Then, in one graceful movement, he rose, approaching one of the niches, almost hidden among the larger statues. Carefully, almost reverently, he removed the ark from its niche.

"In these, were stored the katras of Vulcans who made significant contributions to our society. The katra is the... consciousness of a Vulcan."

[morphitudinous]

After a long shift in the Engineering department that day, Billy found himself taking a detour on his way to his room. Predictably, his arrival point was one of the brightest hubs of activity on the good ship Stacy: the Sensoriums. And his curious human mind was unwilling to miss what waited in the open rooms.

The cavern he finally chose was ancient, imposing, and somehow sad. Wherever he was, reverence was required. Solemnly observing his surroundings, he gazed at the relics left behind. Was this a memorial of sorts?

Brushing off the desert heat penetrating the area (he'd grown up next to a desert and fought battles in it regularly), he crept forward. His eyes soon found another crew member in meditation. Bad idea, Billy, he thought. The new person's posture and manner suggested that he was far more advanced in the skill than Billy, and if it was that important it would be rude to interrupt.

Aaaand the human immediately began a quietly clumsy retreat.

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

"It is unnecessary to leave in such haste," Spock commented, just before opening his eyes. "You are not intruding."

[morphitudinous]

As if ordered to do it by some mysterious power, Billy froze in an unnaturally straight posture. "I apologize. The memorial caught my attention---if that's an appropriate word to use, that is."

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Spock tilted his head slightly. "The word may be accurate. On my home planet, this was a place to... remember the accomplishments of those who had gone before."

[jediwiseass.livejournal.com]

Jaina felt listless, as she most often did while off-duty. One of the perils of life on Stacy was that the overwhelming mission ahead of them made one feel guilty for having nothing to do. At such times she liked to come to the sensoriums and indulge in the memories of others.

It was like a story being recounted, only more palpable. She could smell it, taste it, reach out and put her fingers on it. It was like holding a soul in her hands.

She ran said fingers idly along the walls to the Katric Ark. It felt ancient, filled with reverance, and reminded her of the inner chambers in the temples on Yavin IV.

"This place is beautiful," she said under her breath, not meaning to speak at all.

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

"It is culturally significant," Spock answered her from his place on the floor. "It is a place of remembrance."

He opened his eyes. "I am Spock."

[jediwiseass.livejournal.com]

She started a little when he spoke up, whirling around to see him sat near the altar.

"Oh!" she exclaimed before sheepishly continuing, "My name's Jaina. I'm sorry, am I intruding?"

[waylostandfound.livejournal.com]

There was a whoosh outside the door, and a surprised sometimes politician peering inside with interest at the caverns. Made him think of Carlsbad, or other caverns. Not that he bothered with spelunking or being underground much. Nathan always needed to be on top, free and rising in the air. He slowly stepped further in, noting the curious and strange tall statues. He then noticed the other figure in reflection near an altar.

He debated saying anything, and then finally cleared his throat to announce his presence.

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Spock opened his eyes slowly, his gaze calm and thoughtful. Otherwise he didn't move from his place on the floor. "Greetings."

[waylostandfound.livejournal.com]

Nathan stepped closer, and there was a hiss, and a sharp intake of breath as he got a better look at the face. Something was very disconcerting here. And yet, he carefully stepped closer. Calm, but not calculating, and as he approached, he could make out the ears. Huh, isn't that odd?

"Sorry, if I disturbing you, was just stopping by, and uh..." He hadn't really faced Sylar, but he seen enough about his face from the Company records. But still he was just as positive whoever this one was, it definitely wasn't him.

"Sorry, your face reminds me of someone. Never mind. I'm Nathan Petrelli, one of the lieutenants on the Command Staff here."

[ladyofthesands.livejournal.com]

Arha had not meant to intrude, but found herself pulled to this place. The hot air reminded her of home and the sense of the place reminded her of sanctuary. But it was an emotional component that drew her as well, and it was something she could not ignore. She folded her hands behind her back and clasped her wrist with her other hand.

This place was beautiful.

This place was lost.

She let the dry heat wash over her and closed her eyes, the barely perceptible creak of her bright white leather and she soft shift of her Jed-Eye cloak the only noise she made. She studied the back of the man who meditated and refused to disturb him. Instead, Arha soaked in the moment and waited, carefully settling herself for meditation. The moment to speak would come when it would. One did not rush these things.

She left her mind open but quiet and her presence was as warm as the desert sands.

[nerve-pincher.livejournal.com]

Spock let time pass, sensing that the visitor would not mind a continued silence. But meditation was still escaping him, through no fault of hers.

"I take it you find this place interesting?" he asked.

[ladyofthesands.livejournal.com]

"It reminds me of my own home in some respects," Arha said in a subdued voice, letting the space (even if it was simulated) have some of the reverence it deserved. She let the silence settle like fine grains of sand for a moment. "It is a beautiful place, one that speaks of tradition and knowledge, yes?"