Chapter 21 [the log]

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Spock sat motionlessly in his seat. He blinked slowly at the sight of the communications panel that had been silent for longer than an hour. Nothing had been sent, and nothing had been recieved.

All was quiet.

Each task he had set out to accomplish had been completed, and all there was left to do was return to the Enterprise. But that wasn't going to happen.

Carefully, Spock crawled his fingers to the communications panel and hit the record button. He hesitated a moment, trying to collect his ever-ceasing thoughts, then began to speak:

"Personal log, Commander Spock, U.S.S. Enterprise... I have noted the passage of the Enterprise on its way to whatever awaits it..."

He could feel his heartbeat slowing by the second, and his lungs growing weaker with each breath. The thing that confused him most however was his mind. The part that was usually so active with emotions and connections was quiet, as if that piece of him had already died.

He thought of Indy for a split second. He wondered how she was doing. Did she know where he was? Did she know how deeply sorry he was for leaving her in that state? Did she know that he had ordered security to find Harrison and place him under arrest? Had they even found him yet?

"If this record should survive me, I wish it known that I bequeath my highest commendation and testimonial to the Captain, officers, and crew of the Enterprise... the finest starship in the fleet..."

He cocked an eyebrow upward and flicked his gaze quickly to his feet. He clicked the channel closed, but maintained his position on the button.

No thoughts came to him.

Instead, he looked out into the swirling mass of orange and pink protoplasm. Memories of how he felt during the death of his home planet began to surface. How he felt when he couldn't save his mother and the sight of everything crumbling around him. He felt the exact same in this moment: helpless and isolated; anger and confusion; fear. While not as exponentially multiplied as they were in that moment, he felt them now. They were numb and cold, but still there.

This time, he chose not to block them out. He chose to feel.

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