science_blues: (Default)
The city was beautiful, and her time on this planet, albeit somewhat inconsistently spent, had been both educational and pleasant, overall. Spock considered it as she sat back in the spartan chair she'd been allocated. The shuttle was small, compact, and logically organized. The other passengers were filing in for the trip to the singularity Starbase, 69, she believed.

It would not be long before dust off.

Spock withdrew a PADD and entered her daily report, filed it into her careful system of studies and notes, and cast the occasional glance out the port window at her elbow. It would be a considerable ride in the shuttle. She would doubtless lament the inability to breathe fresh air, but it was unavoidable.

A week was not a particularly long time.
science_blues: (Straight on (prelim))
Spock adjusted the fit of her belt, tightening it approximately 4.5 cm.

The fit of her borrowed exercise garb was, ultimately, sufficient for the task at hand. The belt would keep her replicated top from gaping. It was unnecessary, but the traditional wardrobe seemed an important choice.

Spock rationalized it as a necessity for teaching.

She had posted the bulletin on the open message centers, ideally a few of the officers and non-officers who had expressed interest would arrive for lessons. As the gym was, momentarily, fairly unoccupied, Spock started a slow, meditative sequence to prepare for her class.
science_blues: (Child_white)
Leonard Nimoy's established living quarters were sufficient. However, they did not possess a cat. A cat which he had specifically implied existed on the ship.

Normally, sneaking was quite an illogical venture in line with the retention of accurate information. However, when one seeks to find an organism that may or may not desire to be found, a stealthy approach is the most likely to succeed. It was, also, only logical that she begin this approach before the departure from Leonard Nimoy's established quarters, in the event that the cat was nearby.

She absolutely did not sneak out.

As Spock rounded the corner, and scanned the hallway, she realized a flaw in her plan. The cat was perfectly capable of avoiding her. A new approach was required. She would have to imply, via a distance based technique, that she bore nothing but good will for the creature. Good will and a desire to pet it.

Spock attempted verbal communication, as it was the only distance based technique she was capable of performing.

"Come here, tiny feline of a non-specified gender," Spock hazarded quietly. The cat did not come immediately. She moved down the hall and attempted verbal communication again.
science_blues: (Child_red)
Spock had watched the other children, following her examination. Despite multiple assurances, and a very elaborate explanation, she had not yet been entirely convinced that this was not an elaborate plot to kidnap and detain her. the other children left to the individual care of guardians and, on occasion, parents, Spock began to wonder.

She folded her hands in her lap and regarded the general motions of sickbay. The other children were gone and she was not a priority. The various nurses and doctors continued about their work and Spock watched them idly. She had not expected continuous conversation, nor had she desired it, but the lack of external stimulus forced her to rely entirely on internal contemplation.

Without an alternate topic, the only thing she could think to contemplate was the time. It was an irrelevant topic, as there was little she could do to influence it, or the actions she felt should have occurred, but it was the only topic she had. Spock watched the chronometer on the far wall, for lack of alternate stimulation.

Two hours seventeen minutes prior, presuming that the doctor had not been truthful with her, her mother was supposed to have landed the flitter outside of the academy and taken her to the doctor. One hour and five minutes ago, her sister would have arrived home. Ten minutes ago, they would have partaken of dinner.

It was the fourth day of the week. Barkaya marak and ameelah.

Spock was irrationally saddened by this thought. She took a slow breath and ignored the sensation. It would slide away.

(OOC - I'm going to be questionably available for the next two days. This is just to allow some interaction so I don't lag behind everyone when we conclude this. I do hope that was vague enough, about the examination conversation, M'Benga!mun.)
science_blues: (Default)
Spock did not fully support the native Kirk's position but she could find little logical reason to object to it. That she still desired to was...discomfiting.

The door to her temporary quarters parted and Spock entered first. She momentarily relished the absolute placement of everything. The chair in the corner, the desk and it's perfect alignment to the wall--there was a 2.4 degree convex bow to the shape of the bulkhead, but such errors were structural in capacity and thus beyond her ability to correct.

Her eyes fell on the temporary bed that had been allocated them. It was slightly askew of the starboard-aft corner. It had usurped her meditative space.

It was of no consequence, Spock reminded herself, meditation could occur anywhere.

Spock stepped aside, clearing the threshold, and permitted T'Vau entry.
science_blues: (Default)
Communication to Leonard Nimoy and Bill Shatner: ([ profile] len_not_spock, [ profile] canadianbill)

Concerning dinner. )

Spock regarded her table slowly, intensely, as she searched for an error in the presentation. She had acquired a third chair and a slightly larger table, had moved the furniture away from its position against the wall, and had set out a casual array of utensils. Idly, she wondered if a more formal experience had been implied. She had no recollection of such implication, however, so she permitted the concern to pass.

The food, mostly replicated, rested in the center of the table. The menu was entirely vegetarian, and mostly vegan, though two of the human dishes contained animal bi-products. Spock, herself, had no moralistic objections to products obtained by nondestructive means, if her guests did, she could recycle the dishes and alter the menu.

Spock turned her attention the chronometer on her desk. It was very nearly the previously scheduled time.
science_blues: (Science)
Spock regarded the time evenly as she concluded the compilation of her daily notes. Two days prior, she had spoke to Christine Chapel (Non-Native) concerning the baking of snack foods, cookies specifically. The end of Beta shift had occurred precisely two minutes prior, and thus the afternoon had begun. Without pause, Spock pulled up the intraship communications tab on her PADD and entered a quick missive to Nurse Chapel.

Communication to Nurse Chapel, Non-native: ([ profile] originalchapel)

Concerning this afternoon. )
science_blues: (Obtuse)
(OOC - I should put a warning on this, there are some...uncomfortable family moments beneath the cut. Just FYI.

Also: If anyone wants me to retcon their conversation with fSpock, just let me know. Since it's unestablished wobble time, I figured what the hell? Why not?)

From her position on the floor, Spock regarded the ornament that decorated her doorway. As of yet, this was the only decorative piece she had acquired in this plane of reality. It was a curious element, disassociated from the space around it, and altogether fitting in a metaphorical sense.

That it had inspired, through some simplistic form of the Butterfly Effect, a sequence of curious visitations, only made it more interesting. It was impossible to divine the statistical likelihood of so many sequential visits, so Spock did not attempt to. Rather, she considered the visitations as she regarded the ornament.

She had met an actor who was a non Vulcan variant of Spock, spoken with the native variant of herself, engaged in conversation with a female variant of Christian Chapel, become somewhat engendered to her non-native variant, and had established a formalized friendship with James Kirk.

That particular conversation, extended as it was, lingered in her mind. The visceral reaction she'd acquired, as result, had not faded. As a prolonged state it was both unusual and uncomfortable, and Spock closed her eyes as she took a meditative breath.

It should have been easily corrected, her discomfort. It would have been, had it been any other subject matter. Spock resigned herself to the fact that she would garner little sleep and attempted, to the best of her ability, to clear her mind.

Internal clarity is often motivated by external complication. )
science_blues: (Sit)
(OOC - Set sometime after the away mission in Christmas-wobble-time.)

It was, perhaps, inappropriate to afford a section of the ship's power to the replication of decorations. Spock, however, was quite convinced that the representative nature of the replicated flora more than forgave the indulgence. Despite being convinced of this, it did occur to her that she should have requested permission before creating the item.

As the faux pas had already been committed, it was illogical to ruminate upon it. If it were an issue, she would apologise and offer appropriate recompence. Until such time as that deliberation were established, she would display it as was traditional.

Spock stepped away from the threshold of her temporarily allocated quarters and looked up at the hanging ornamental plant. It had an appropriate symbolism, even if the bow and bell were not precisely related. Nevertheless, it was how she had learned to display the object and appeared to do no harm.

"Insufficient," Spock decreed aloud and cocked her head 2 degrees counter clockwise. It required adjusting, though what specific variety of adjustment currently eluded her.
science_blues: (Science)
The shuttlebay was of a predictably reversed layout from that to which Spock was accustomed. The shift was a simple one, however, and she acclimated to it almost immediately. It took only a brief few moments before Spock located an acceptable shuttle and began the forms required. They were completed expediently and Spock assigned the two Yeoman on duty to the task of checking the supplies. As they did so, Spock moved to the bay console and checked the sensor alignments of the craft.

She did not need to glance at the chronometer to know the time. She had approximately 1.32 hours before the remainder of the team were required to be present. Ideally the checks she was engaged in would only occupy 35% of that time period, leaving the remainder for open study of the scientific and linguistic data the Enterprise had assembled.
science_blues: (Commander)
The communications officer on duty, whom Spock had since identified as George Kirk, in conjuction with the native Lieutenant Uhura had managed to decode the general trends of the alien linguistics. Their work was most exemplary and Spock noted such as she prepared her report and proposal. Given standard Starfleet Procedure, the next step was obvious.

They had been peacably contacted by a native race with warp capabilities. It was her duty and, in fact, the nearest actionable form of her pleasure, to initiate first contact with the planet. Despite the lack of contact from the Captain, Spock was assured in this procedure. She was so assured of this that, following the notification from the communications sector, she had begun a search through the crew roster.

Briefly, as she assembled the candidates, Spock regretted that she did not know them as individuals. Personal knowledge would aid the decision process, but what could not be altered was illogical to regret. The initial landing party was a simple matter, nonetheless. The requirements were quite standard.

As the secondary Command Officer and current Chief Science Officer, Spock would lead the team, herself. She would require the standard compliment. Two security officers, a secondary scientific presence,and a medic. It would also be wise to include a communications officer for the initial foray. Her natural inclination was to select Lieutenant Uhura, though Spock would explain it away in much more logical terms.

Once Spock had completed her selection, to the best of the information provided, she issued a series of messages to the appropriate recipients and gathered her equipment. If there were no complications, the mission could proceed immediately.

Communication to Captain Kirk, Native: ([ profile] kirktastic)
Concerning M3-137q4 )

Communication to Temporary Chief Security Officer Kowalski, Native: ([ profile] anna_kowalski)
Concerning M3-137q4 )

Communication to Nurse Chapel, Non-native: ([ profile] originalchapel)
Concerning M3-137q4 )

Communication to Lieutenant Uhura, Native: ([ profile] just_uhura)
Concerning M3-137q4 )

Communication to Lieutenant Commander Mulhall, Non-native: ([ profile] ann_mulhall)
Concerning M3-137q4 )

(OOC - I hope this is alright with everyone? If not, please let me know.)
science_blues: (Straight on (prelim))
Greetings. I am non-native Spock3.

As lessons were requested of me, I have recently established a timetable for the instruction of Vulcan meditative martial arts.

As such, I will be present in the Gymnasium for bi-weekly instruction of Ke-tarya1. I am also proficient in a'sum'i and suus mahna if there are any on board who desire knowledge of these forms, specifically2.

All who wish to attend or observe are welcome to do so.

1. See attached .data packet for dates and hours.
2. I am skilled in Terran and Andorian techniques as well, if one desires training or advisement in these areas.
science_blues: (Straight on (prelim))
Spock was unaccustomed to being idle.

Her duties aboard her own Enterprise were difficult and numerous, often occupying the vast majority of her time. She had become acclimated to the constant torrent of work, and the sudden, distinct lack of it was...staggering. Without it, she had devoted her time to the methodical study of the ship, the individual environs, the alternated sections, the various settings, and the informational networks available to her.

As it was, she'd exhausted most reasonable details and, in turn, a vast majority of her patience. Without alternative scientific activities, Spock was left to decide what she wished to do. She had taken copious field notes within the confines of the Mess Hall. She was not in need of food, at current, and her notes were in need of sorting. It would not behoove her to take more, nor to visit that particular environ.

Perhaps exercise would help to clear the impatience that hovered in her veins.

Spock resolved herself to physical activity and left her assigned PADD in her similarly assigned quarters. It was not long before Spock located the gymnasium. Her blues were ineffective as exercise garb, so it was fortunate that spare garments were provided within the allocated dressing area. Properly outfitted, Spock took to the slow, sequential motions of ke-tarya.
science_blues: (Fascinating)
This meme seems most conducive to my scientific investigations.

How this meme works:
1 - Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2 - I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3 - You'll update your journal with my five questions, and your five answers.
4 - You'll include this explanation.
5 - You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.
science_blues: (Feather Wide)
I am most perplexed. While perusing the network my PADD is attached to, I have come across a great deal of questionable humor. I have been repeatedly sent to view this and then informed that I am a newfag. While the terminology escapes me, I can only presume it indicates that I am ignorant of the virtual sociocultural infrastructure.

In an effort to avoid being a newfag, I have sought out the guidelines for proper behavior within the confines of this network. Inevitably, I found The Unofficial Official Rules of the Internet.

It appears to be a compendium of approximately 666 sequential guidelines (680 including integers, imaginary numerals, and Roman notation), with an appended 22 additional, non-sequential requirements and informative suggestions. Though many of them are contradictory and self referential, as far as I have been able to gather, there are a few which I feel prudent to share. As Jim KirkConscientious associate of Spock indicated that there would be several confused, displaced persons who required similar information, I will share this in the public forum.

The Unofficial Official Rules of the Internet, as organized by Cmdr. Spock Ko-fu'Sarek )

If there are any further, essential rules which should be appended to this list, I would greatly appreciate a suggestion.
science_blues: (Default)
The Security aboard this Enterprise has seen fit to remove from my direct control the technology with which I was equipped when I arrived. This protocol is both understandable and advisable.

Fortunately, as it was removed from me within very short order following entry X-1, the re-entry of that information was a simple matter. Thereby, this entry shall be the estranged entity and be classed X-1(1).

The following contains the current accumulation of my field-notes. They have been broken into varied classifications for easy cross-reference and sorting.

Personnel Listings and Concurrent Notes )

Technological and General Environmental Notes )

As yet to be confirmed notes and suppositions. )
science_blues: (Commander)
Strangely, the unorthodox appellation of a variable log-entry numerical is the only method by which I have surmised to properly catalog my thoughts and observations.

If X is representative of the event that instigated my current predicament and the following numerical denotes the sequential order of my entries, with the addition of the local time, it should eventually be possible to assign a properly formatted timecode to each individual section. Ideally, this should provide the capability to merge these documents with the overarching log still kept on the Enterprise.

Given that this is the initial log, I have deemed it X-1. As the designation X-0 implies the event itself, I have merely skipped it.

Notation aside, this is the initial entry of Personal Log, Secondary, Commander Spock: S 179-276 SP.

I have found myself--having arrived rather inexplicably, I am reluctant to assign this particular incident a more precise verb lest specific phraseology fail me--on a ship not dissimilar to the Enterprise. While occasional minutia appear altered, overall the ship is unchanged. Upon my arrival, though the aforementioned instances were noted, I paid them little heed. During the progression of my time here, however, I have been made aware of much more...distracting differences.

It appears that the given genders of individuals with whom I am familiar are reversed. The improbability of such a specific sequence of differences is staggering. As it stands, however, I find the observation of such near-duplicates to be a most fascinating undertaking.

I am uncertain as to whether I will be treated as a hostile force or not. Though regulation, in the strictest interpretation, states that such abrupt arrivals be treated with caution, my strange appearance has garnered very little beyond a listless apathy. That such an odd event should occur with sufficient frequency to inspire apathy is quite telling. If this PADD should be removed from my direct control, the following entries will, doubtless, have a new system of organization.

Spock out.
science_blues: (Commander)
These were, most assuredly, not her quarters.

True, they appeared to be the same physical space to which she had been assigned, but they were incorrect on multiple levels. The most disconcerting and immediately apparent of which being that they were approximately fifty-seven degrees colder than her preferred temperature. The conspicuous crunch the carpet released upon her entry drew her attention away from the report in hand and Spock's vision drifted across the room with quick, calculating grace.

“Computer,” Spock began and her right eyebrow crawled upward toward her hairline. The computer neither trilled nor blared in response and Spock blinked. “Ascertain cause of temperature shift.” Her command was answered by relative silence and the slow swish of the door behind her as it closed.

“Computer, respond,” Spock commanded lightly and tucked the PADD in her hands beneath her right arm. Again, there was no audible reaction to her input. Spock drew a short breath and turned to the panel beside the doorway. As she reached out, she paused. The panel was...not on this side of the door? Spock turned and stared in silence as she identified the panel on the opposing side of the threshold.

This was incorrect.

Her mind raced as she added the various factors to one another. These were not her quarters, and yet they were. It was a conundrum, one she did not currently have enough information to solve. Spock extended her hand and depressed the controls on the panel beside the doorway. For the first time since her entry, the computer responded with a short tone.

“Spock to bridge,” she stated evenly and arched a brow as no immediate response came. She allowed precisely seventeen seconds to expire before attempting to contact the bridge again. It became apparent that she would receive no answer from the main communications console, and Spock very nearly frowned as she stepped back from the panel.

Something very strange had occurred.

The carpet crunched beneath her feet and Spock hazarded a glance at the floor. The moisture in the air had just managed to crystallize on the carpet. Had environmental controls been affected? Was this variable linked directly to the strange displacement of local technological features? Spock regarded the carpet briefly and moved to exit the room.
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