Travel. (Spock, T'Vau, Open.)

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.