Captain's Log (Star Trek Kirk/Spock slowburn)

[freakofnature04]

My first Star trek fic and first in this particular neck of the woods, this can be set in either TOS or reboot, though I originally planned for it to be reboot characters. There's a lot of exposition in the first half before the sneezing starts, but hopefully the subsequent parts will begin faster.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 4357.2
The Enterprise is currently docked at Planos, a mining planet on the outskirts of Federation space that is applying for admission as a supplier. While we refuel, we have been insructed to beam down to the planet’s surface and survey the mining rig and surrounding civilization for signs of potential hazards. Me, Mr. Spock, Mr. Engrin and Mx. Geddiroy will make our visit after lunch this afternoon, and then be back on track to Beta-625 by dinner shift.

… … …

“Are you ready, Captain?” Spock asked from where he and the two other crewmen assigned to the mission were standing on the transporter pad. Kirk had just made his way into the room after a long lunch with Lieutenant Michaels and Sulu, during which he had gotten slightly inebriated (but not to the point of being unfit for duty).

“Yes, Mr. Spock, I believe I am– just lost track of time a little bit.” He stepped up onto the platform, buzzing energy radiating off of him. “Ready, Scotty.”

The Scotsman wasted no time in beaming them down.

The landing party materialized in a gray room with close walls – though on second glance, it appeared the room was partitioned in the middle by a large pane of translucent material, behind which several people were sat. A short woman with tinted glasses walked in from the adjoining room and greeted them, her Planotian accent almost too thick to comprehend.

“You are the Federation representatives, yes? To see the mines, yes? Let me get my supervisor, he tell me you are coming.”

The woman rushed out of the room into the hallway beyond, and before long came back with a taller man in coveralls and clunky boots. When he saw the landing party, he held up a complicated-looking hand sign that Kirk knew to be the typical greeting in the Pulverian arena of space. Unable to replicate the sign himself, he opted to simply wave.

“Hello, Mr.–“

“Greti. Nice to meet you all. I have everything set up for your visit, and I’ll let you get right to it as soon as I can get you equipped. If you’ll just follow me to my office–“

The crew followed Mr. Greti down the narrow hallways to a small room– an alcove, really– that seemed to be on the other side of the compound, if distances were anything to go by. Kirk chatted with the man along the way, inquiring about the planet and the mining rig as if he hadn’t already read the background report on the place (Spock considered there was a 34% chance that the captain hadn’t so much as skimmed it, but he didn’t see the point in bringing that up right now).

Mr. Greti had his assistant go over the map of the tunnels with the crew while he gave them special two-way communicators especially designed to transmit through rough interference. Their Starfleet communicators, as well as the tricorders and other instruments, would be of little use down below, where they were headed. It wasn’t a particularly dangerous situation, but caution would be needed since their usual safety net was not there.

“Mr. Engrin, Mx. Geddiroy, you two will examine the surface design of the planet and observe cultural and linguistic differences with the Planotians. Remember– we need to make sure there are no significant barriers to Federation membership. Mr. Spock and I will take the tour of the subterranean premises. We’ll meet back together in no more than 2.5 hours.”

“Roger that, Captain.”

“Spock, after you.”

Having split up with the other half of their landing crew, Jim let Spock take the lead on their exploration. He seemed to have a sixth sense for confusing underground layouts, which Jim unfortunately did not. He could get lost going from one deck of the Enterprise to another if not for the abundant signage and hard-got familiarity, neither of which this site seemed to offer.

“It’s the other way, Captain,” Spock corrected as Jim was about to walk off in the wrong direction on the way to the lift. It was a cool few kilometers below the surface to where the mines were located, a lift time of about 240 seconds, but the contraption itself was about a fifteen minute walk from the transporter room. For such a small planet whose main purpose was mining, everything was oddly spread apart.

There were practically zero true surface-dwellers unlike most planets they visited. The atmospheric conditions were most unhospitable to mammalian lifeforms, so it was mostly small reptilian creatures and protozoa that inhabited the surface. Everything else was at least five meters below ground, but close enough to the surface to communicate beyond the planet’s atmosphere without electromagnetic interference.

Hence, every part of this outpost existed as either a cave or a tunnel, the rocky walls reflecting sounds from one part of the compound to the other at all times. It was slightly unnerving, even for Spock.

They finally arrived at the lift entrance without getting lost (no thanks to Kirk) and waited behind the gates for the contraption to make its way back up. It didn’t take long.

Planotians who had clearly just finished their shift exited the lift as Jim and Spock entered. It was only the two of them on the way down, which was spent in mostly comfortable silence.

“Where would you like to go first, Captain?” Spock asked as their descent slowed and the metal box opened up. Almost immediately, the musty stench of the mines hit them, causing both to cough.

“Whew, that’s really something, smells like an old well or something back home.”

“It is an unusual odor for such a place, until one considers the rich ice deposits that are no doubt melted during the mining process, allowing fungi and mold to proliferate in these bottom layers.”

“Well, make a note of that for the report, Mr. Spock. Could be important to Starfleet.”

“Indeed, Captain.”

The pair started off in the direction of the dilithium mines at Jim’s request, the most important one to visit for their report if nothing else. The planet was unusually rich in various substances, but extracting them was where the difficulty came in. If the extraction processes weren’t sound, the Federation would need to know before accepting Planos into their trade lines.

It was about a fifteen minute walk in either direction, meaning that if there was to be any time spent examining the rigs themselves, they would have to be quick.

Kirk set the pace while Spock directed him where to go, which was fortunately fairly straightforward at this point. As they walked further from the center of the cave (where the lift was located), the lighting along the tunnel walls got dimmer and the sounds of voices and machinery became more distant. Even the ever-present sound of ventilation seemed to vanish, leaving only the echoing sounds of their footsteps to fill the silence.

Spock wasn’t sure whether the musty smell had gone away or he had simply adjusted to it (balance of probability lay on the latter hypothesis), but he no longer was able to smell it. He was confused, therefore, why he should experience an odd, dry sensation in this throat as he did, that was increasingly becoming harder to ignore. Not only that, but his eyes were starting to water as if he had been exposed to an ophthalmic irritant. He blinked hard and cleared his throat quietly in an attempt to dislodge the irritants, but to little avail.

Inhaling through his nose, a wave of panic hit him.

Well, a wave of something. Apparently, the lack of ventilation along the tunnels allowed some particulate substance(s) to collect along the rock formations and loosen into the air when disturbed.

And it seemed Mr. Spock was about to react negatively to said substance(s).

Pure logic dictated suddenly that he should not be here. The Planotian compound was evidently not hospitable to him, he decided. Though he had no idea what plan of action he should take to remedy the situation before Kirk found out, or before finishing the mission (whichever came first).

He continued to walk towards their destination with Kirk in tow, grateful that they seemed to be nearly there, as the lighting along the walls seemed to be getting brighter, and background noise seemed to envelope them once again.

Spock took the opportunity to sniff lightly and clear his throat again, certain Jim wouldn’t be able to hear him.

“This place has its charm, don’tcha think?” Jim asked rhetorically as they reached the entrance to the mine. A heavy translucent door revealed a man in a service uniform at a computer console behind it. “I wanna visit that pub on the surface before we go, Spock. Said they served their own locally brewed ale.”

Normally, Spock would have brought up that Jim had already been drinking that day and that they would likely not have the time to do so again before having to beam up and leave the station, but with the irritation building in his nose, he refrained from responding.

He knocked on the door instead, indicating to the man that would like to be let in. After a moment, the doors swished open allowing them entrance.

The man asked them for identification, as per usual with surveys of the premises, before putting on his tourguide hat and showing them around the office, which was actually the center of controls for the dilithium mines.

Throughout the presentation, Spock felt the dry irritation in his nose and throat morph into a different, distinctly itchy feeling that flared every time he inhaled a little too forcefully or allowed his nose to twitch. He fought the urge to rub it away, knowing it would alert the captain and their tourguide-person to his current struggles. Given past experiences, his best bet would appear to be ignoring the sensation as much as possible, for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, that meant he would have to divert most of his mental capacities toward this activity, rather than listening to the information their host was presenting to them. Hopefully, Jim was listening better than he was.

“–and we purify the ore right at the source, to allow maximal decontamination before reaching the manual refinement processors at the surface. It requires more energy usage which drives up the cost of mining, but it’s safer, we consider safety to be our top priority.”

“Any safety concerns we should know about, that is to say– anything that the Federation might be able to help with, should Planos decide to enter?”

“Well, we have everything pretty much under control. We do sweeps of the systems at least once a month, and have monitors on duty at all times. Incidents do happen here, but we are always able to solve the problem quickly.”

“That sounds excellent, Mr. Deogi. I’ll be sure to include everything you’ve mentioned in our report. Now, I think we have to be getting on to the neutronium side soon, so that’s just…”

Jim pivoted about a few times as they exited the room before Deogi pointed him in the right direction. “That way,” he said, and they were off again.

… … …

“Spock you’ve been awfully quiet since beaming down here. Everything alright?”

The walk back to the lift after visiting the neutronium mines was mostly filled with silence, even more so because the rock on this side of the underground structure was soft and tended to absorb the sounds of their footsteps.

Lending barely a pointy ear to the second presentation, Spock had noticed earlier the layer of pale dust-like particles covering his and Jim’s uniforms, and the way that rapid movement tended to dislodge it from being caught in the threads. He had surmised that it was a combination of particulate sediment, dead skin cells, and ash, among other things, that had settled in the rarely-used hallways after some time. By walking along the paths they did, surely plenty of it was kicked up from the ground and walls.

Inside, and on the surface compound, there was ventliation, air purification. In the halls, they had what appeared to panels where static electricity was supposed to attract the dust particles (according to the pamphlet, though these ones looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in ages).

Hoping to avoid causing his captain concern, Spock replied in a low voice, “I am fine, Captain. Simply musing over the variety of ways the compound could be more efficient in their processes.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

He didn’t notice the sudden intake of breath beside him, or the momentary pause in his footsteps before resuming. He didn’t notice the imperceptible sigh of relief as the tickle didn’t take hold, and Spock was able to pretend nothing was wrong once again.

It lasted another few minutes. Kirk had asked which way to turn at a fork in the passages, causing Spock to accidentally inhale too fast in response, which allowed the tickle to wiggle its way further up into his sinus cavity, taking hold with resolution.

Spock saw Jim’s odd look at him, confused by the sudden gasps of breath and turning away from him before comprehension dawned.

“Hhh-hhh-hHehchhhngt!”

“Bless you, Spock.”

After a second, Spock unfolded himself slowly and turned back towards Jim, unable to make eye contact. “Thank you, Captain,” he said, trying not to sniff. The sneeze had caused his sinuses to fill, but he didn’t want to make a whole thing of it in front of Jim. It was bad enough that he was witness to Spock’s digusting display of sternutation, he didn’t need to see him expell any kind of nasal secretions, in addition.

They continued to walk in the direction of the lift, though Spock found himself inadvertently pushing the pace to get there faster. He initially thought that the first sneeze might be the only one, since whatever had gotten up in his nose in the first place was obviously no longer there.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Within moments, he found himself on the cusp of a sneeze again. This time, he brought his fist up to try to scrub the itch away, but it backfired when the itch turned into the need to sneeze.

“Hhh–HEHchhngt! Heh-chhnxxt!” He stifled the second one harder than the first, instantly kicking up a headache behind his eyes.

“Geez, you allergic to something down here?” Jim now lay his full attention on his friend, who was clearly not done sneezing yet.

He buried his face in his elbow and let out three painful-sounding stifled sneezes in a row.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he heard Jim say before taking off in the wrong direction.

“Jim!” He coughed into his shoulder, “it’s this way!”

“Oh, right.”

… … …

Ten minutes later, Spock and Kirk found themselves alone on the lift up to the surface level. Spock had suffered all the way there, sneezing in fits of three, five, ten before the coughing and wheezing really began to take hold of him. By now, he hardly paid any attention to his watery eyes, runny nose or itchy inner ears; he was focusing on keeping his phelgmy coughs and wet sneezes contained to the black undershirt that Jim had taken off (somehow without Spock’s noticing) to let him expell his secretions hygienically.

He was practically beyond being embarrassed at this point, though he knew it would become a humiliating memory.

Fortunately, Jim didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed neither amused nor particularly concerned by the outburst (probably owed to Jim’s own experience with a galaxy of allergens and an overactive immune system), but instead attentive to the sounds of his first officer’s whistly breathing to make sure they remained stable.

All things considered, it was a good thing that Jim Kirk was there, instead of anyone else, to see it.

“Captain, I–“

“Don’t worry, Spock, we’ll get you all fixed up as soon as we’re back on board.”

“No, Jim, it’s–“

“And I won’t tell a soul.”

“But, Mr. Engrin and Mx. Geddiroy will–“

“I’ll have Scotty beam us up separately. Bless you,” he said right before Spock folded over into a strong sneeze.

“HehhhCHHHHIEW!” He blew forcefully into the undershirt, finding that – as gross as it was, and as embarrassed as he was to do it – it was the only thing that would keep him from sneezing more than five times in a row each time the tickle made itself known. He was surprised when Jim put his hand on his back to steady him. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?” Jim asked back, removing his hand from Spock’s back.

“Blessing me before I… sneeze.”

He wanted to say that the hand on the back was fine, preferred even, but cut himself short. It was probably an involuntary reaction to such a strong sneeze. It therefore meant nothing.

Jim just laughed, but didn’t return his hand to Spock’s back. “Well maybe you should stop sneezing.”

“Jim, I– hehhh– can’t– hhhh-hehCHHHngt!”

“I’m kidding, Spock. Come on, I think we’re almost there.”

... ... ...

Part 1 TBC...

[MeForever]

Love it! Very well written and I love the charactersation of Spock and Kirk.

[ellwren]

Love this so far!

[Bilo0618]

Amazing job on the characterization! I'm excited to see a new Star Trek fic on the forum! Spock is one of my favorite characters to read sick-fics about.

[sfyrist]

I'm really into original Trek (tos or reboot) and I really like the start to the story you've made here. Of course Jim would know what it's like...

[AngelEyes]

Fantastic beginning!

[Jelloicious]

Great job capturing the voices of these characters!  I love how this built up!

[RavenWatson]

Adorableness 

[MiraKarat]

My first otp! Thank you for sharing! Can't wait for more!❤️