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brokenjardaantech · 3 years

Text

a road not taken

Fandom: star trek (2009)

pairing: nero/ayel

summary:

Leya returns from his most recent trial dazed and overwhelmed. It is Ŏ’ŗên's job to comfort his bondmate.

other tags: griefing/mourning, hurt/comfort

ao3 link

Ŏ’ŗên knows something is wrong as soon as his bondmate reappears sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Not because of the silence - that he is used to since the fateful day when his other half miraculously survived the unsurvivable; not because of the frailness - that he is also used to since the day they first met; nor because of the change of the colour of his soulmate’s eyes - that he expects after another trial from beings he is too four-dimensional and mortal to comprehend. But the impenetrable wall he runs into when he taps into their bond - that is something they have not had between them since the day he nearly lost Leya, the price of blocking themselves from each other’s mind too high for them to even try again. Not having access to their bond doesn’t mean that he can’t deduce his bondmate’s emotions from other tells, however, and he knows that right now, the love of his life is overwhelmed with them and therefore is not ready to talk about them yet, so he does what he has learnt from decades of experience that sends his message clearly without resorting to words: press his chest against Leya’s back, wrap his arms around his (painfully thin, boney, narrow) shoulders, and press a kiss with his lips on the pointed tip of his ear.

I’m here for you.

Leya turns his head so that they can exchange a proper kiss with their lips and their fingers. I know. But I’m not ready yet.

One more brush of two fingers against two fingers. A firm squeeze on his waist. I’ll be there whenever you’re ready.

His bondmate pulls away from their embrace and walks away, his skin as pale as the oversized white sleep robe he is wearing, presumably back to the room where his nest is, his own space where he can forget the outside world and rest and think properly. He will be out after a few hours usually.

Usually.

Ŏ’ŗên realises he must take the initiative when the situation doesn’t get better after days of waiting for his bondmate to open up. Whenever the wall between their joined minds wobble, strong waves of sadness washes over the bond, and it is obvious starting from the second day that Leya is not okay at all. Still, he lets him be for a few more days, taking care of their children, tending to the farm, checking on the situation in the rest of the galaxy, while his bondmate hopefully recovers and processes whatever he saw during the trial. On the sixth day he breaches the silence, unwilling to see his other half dwell on his sorrows for any longer: it is not healthy for all of them.

‘Wheaty?’

He finds him on the deck at the back of the house overlooking seemingly-endless hills of different kinds of fruit and blue wheat, the setting sun ruining the world in a fiery hue that he cannot help but find nostalgic; it reminds him of the days in their academy years where they spent their free time sitting in the grass at the waterfront as their eyes were fixed on the glistening sea. They didn’t realise that they were in love back then; they do now.

There is no response from his bondmate and neither does he expect one, although Leya does clutch the large stuffed toy Ŏ’ŗên gifted him all those years ago closer towards his chest and does not protest when Ŏ’ŗên scooped him up so that he can sit on his lap instead. A kiss on the tip of his ear, a nuzzle against his neck where his scent is the strongest, a firm squeeze around his waist. He deflates.

‘Did you pass?’ is the first question asked. Always start from the simplest, most mundane things.

‘Pending,’ is Leya’s response, a low murmur that would have been lost to the breeze brushing their skin had both of them not been Vulcanoids. ‘I try not to think about it too much.’

‘How?’

‘I broke a rule.’

‘What rule?’

‘Non-interference.’

‘What were you supposed to do?’

‘I -’ his voice wobbles. ‘We were supposed to observe our counterparts in three different parallel universes and report back.’

‘Which three did you choose?’

‘The first one was easy enough. I checked on us in the mirror universe.’

‘How are they?’

‘Doing well. They have secured victory over the Empire with the help of my cousin’s counterpart. Their child will grow up in peace.’

‘That’s good to hear. How about the second one?’

His bondmate doesn’t answer immediately and instead wiggles in his lap until he is completely plastered against him with the stuffed toy squished between their chests. ‘The ones my cousin killed. The ones who started all this. The ones who never got to go home.’

He tightens his arms around him. Among all the choices he could make… ‘What about them?’

‘You and your sister were not related in any means and were bondmates. You were going to have a child until a supernova destroyed ch’Rihan. I was your second-in-command on a mining vessel. We were captured by the Klingons not long after we came into this timeline and spent two and a half decades on a penal colony. We escaped in the end but… you know how it went.’

And he does. Starfleet used their newest starship to defeat the terrorist who committed genocide on the Vulcan people, the Captain, the hero behind the Narada’s neutralisation too humble to want their name announced to the general public - at least, that is the official story that is taught in both the Federation and the Republic. In reality, though… ‘Was it what you expected to see?’

‘My cousin did not lie to me, if that is what you are asking.’ He buries his face in the crook of his neck. ‘It did not make it any easier. Do you wish to know?’

‘Please.’

‘That version of us never bonded properly, but the link is there. My cousin killed me first right in front of your eyes and exploited the pain it caused the other you, made you beg for the mercy of death. They… They were happy - overjoyed, even - to help.’

‘Do you think it’s a good thing?’

A shake of his head. ‘Killing our counterparts is the only way to save the galaxy from endless war. My cousin might have done the right thing then, but it was also one of their major steps towards…’ his grip on his shirt tightens, ‘whatever they are right now. Call me a coward or soft-hearted if you wish to, but I do think my cousin was being needlessly cruel. They had the choice of eliminating the threat and moving on or continuing to dwell on it; they chose the latter, they chose to bring even more pain and suffering to the galaxy.’ A deep breath. ‘They became the very thing they had sworn to destroy.’

They let themselves drift for a while. His bondmate has allowed the wall to crumble on its own some time during their talk, and they both bask in the bond between them, Leya drifting between his usual sensitive senses and a light doze, Ŏ’ŗên witnessing the first hint of stars in the sky as the sun descends further and further down the horizon and hearing the faint rustle of their children turning in their sleep from within the house. He will have to wake them up soon, he thinks, but for now his focus is solely on his bondmate.

A sharp pain from the other side of the bond jolts him from his thoughts, the emotion both familiar and distant - familiar because it is not something one can let go of easily, distant because he has not experienced it for a long time. The pain of mourning. Leya is trembling in his arms and the shoulder he is leaning on is wet.

He is crying.

Ŏ’ŗên pushes a wave meant to comfort through their bond hoping to at least calm his bondmate down, but all it does this time is make the sadness return in even stronger waves, and he would have shed a few tears had he had human ancestry like Leya. He receives flashes of images and bursts of sensations, all of them too blurry and short for him to distinguish anything of use; he has to ease himself from his bondmate’s mind to preserve his sanity.

‘I’m sorry,’ Leya says as he leans away and furiously rubs his knuckles against his face in an attempt to wipe his tears off. Ŏ’ŗên brushes his hands away and does it for him, his fingers brushing against his bondmate’s qui’lari to initiate a shallow meld and dragging him away from whatever vision that is plaguing him. ‘I screwed it all up - I lost control of myself -’

Ŏ’ŗên shushes him. ‘What did you do?’

‘I -’ an exhale. ‘The last timeline I visited. It was the closest to the one we’re living in,’ Ŏ’ŗên can feel him clinging onto their bond, grounding Leya against whatever he is reminded of. His eyes are wide. ‘Until I died.’

With so many brushes with death, Ŏ’ŗên isn’t surprised that his bondmate’s counterpart in a parallel universe wasn’t as lucky. ‘What happened?’

Leya shivers from a non-existent cold as Ŏ’ŗên feels age-old memories resurface from the depths of his bondmates mind, one of snow-capped, looming mountains and wind strong enough to rattle entire houses: whatever he encountered during his trial, it made Leya think of his childhood. ‘In that universe,’ he swallows, ‘my cousin never came to take me away. I died cold and starving never to have left the valley.’

Ŏ’ŗên senses that there is some more going on, therefore he merely rubs his bondmate’s thigh through the thin fabric of his sleeping robe.

‘Our counterparts in that universe… They were like us. T’hy’la. Two halves of the same soul. The other you never got to meet me, but he knew that something was missing. There was a giant gap in his mind where the other me should be, and it only grew wider with each passing year.

‘No one believed him when he told the others that there was a void in his mind, that the void was causing him endless pain and confusion. He spent years searching for whatever he could to lessen the pain knowing that he probably would never be able to uproot the ache - writing, serving the Republic, lovers whom he had thought were the shape of the missing pieces - but he got… disappointed, I suppose, and eventually he seemed to have given up. That was when he finally found someone who would perform a mind meld with him, and it was also after this meld that he was told that he had a bondmate, one who had died long before they met. He learnt that the wound would never heal; he would have to live the rest of his life always yearning for someone who no longer exists.’

Ŏ’ŗên holds him closer. ‘What a terrible thing to learn about.’

Leya wipes his eyes. ‘It was a relief for him, though,’ he places his hand on Ŏ’ŗên’s on his thigh, their fingers hooking together in a chaste kiss automatically and not letting go. ‘I guess… That was what made him accept the truth. As much as a closure he was allowed to have. He mourned the other me even though they never met each other, spent his days thinking of “what-if”s and drowning himself in imaginary scenarios where he could be happy with a bondmate with their katra so intertwined that others have difficulties distinguishing the two from each other, let himself feel the loss properly without anyone telling him that his pain wasn’t real. I watched him become a happier man.’ A deep breath. A shudder. ‘Then I watched him make preparations.’

‘What preparations?’

‘To…’ his grip on Ŏ’ŗên’s hand is almost painful. Leya’s side of the bond twists in turmoil. ‘To join the other me. At least, that was what he was thinking of when he wrote his final letter to his family and friends. I - I watched him inject himself with a hypospray and lie down in his bed for sleep just like any other day. He looked so relieved even though he’s so lonely that I - I -’ He heaves. The first sob breaks out from his throat, a high-pitched sound followed by a cascade of tears that goes straight into Ŏ’ŗên’s hears like a dagger, and his hands get slapped away when he tries to help. ‘I couldn’t, Ŏ’ŗên, I couldn’t let him go like this. No one deserves to die alone. I knew it was against the rules, but I - I made myself known.’ A particularly furious wipe, ‘Stepped into that universe with a corporeal form and went through the door to where the other you was. He - he thought I was his bondmate, here to take him away to where they could live together happily ever after.’ His voice breaks, and Ŏ’ŗên gently pats his back as Leya coughs and chokes on his own tears. ‘Please don’t be angry with me.’

Is that why his love is feeling so conflicted? That he broke a rule to comfort a dying man? ‘Never, my love, you know it,’ Ŏ’ŗên promises.

Leya calms down by a slight bit after that and a deep breath. But this time, instead of talking, he intertwines their fingers together on both hands and brings their foreheads together, initiating a meld that, to Ŏ’ŗên, feels as real as any other reality, the background of a setting sun disappearing alongside the endless rows of crops, the contrast between the chill of the evening and his bondmate’s body heat gone and replaced by the feeling of being in a strangely familiar body, and he knows that Leya is sharing his memories with him, that he is experiencing what is before his eyes right now in the way his soulmate did. His vision is blurry with tears - something he, as a full Vulcanoid, would never do in real life, but he can still distinguish the vague, faded outline of scattered pieces of furniture marking that only one person lives in there and they rarely, if at all, bring guests to their home. His legs, tired from pushing his newfound powers to their limits and awkwardly thin and knobbly like puberty never quite left him, creaks with each step forward towards the thick curtains framing a bed too narrow for two. There is an empty hypospray on the bedside table. He feels himself lift his hand and part the curtain, and, in a flow of plain fabric, he is no longer Leya, no longer experiencing the memory as Leya himself, and instead is standing with his back against the wall next to the bedside table, watching his bondmate stand very still and quiet and stare at the figure on the bed, a stray tear escaping the socket of his eye and dripping onto equally plain sheets.

Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s eyes catch the figure watching over him. His lips tremble as if he wants to speak, but in the end only a small, choked sound rises from his throat. ‘Love?’ he breathes.

Leya slowly sits down on the bed and holds Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s hand, his insignificant weight barely making a dip in the mattress. ‘I’m here,’ he says, and he presses a kiss on the back of Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s (oh so bony and thin) hand, tears straining translucent skin wet and leaving tracks on his face. Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s lips twitch. ‘I’m here to take you away. We’ll be together.’

‘I -’ Other-Ŏ’ŗên swallows. ‘You must think lowly of me, wasting my life -’

Leya places a finger on Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s lips to silence him. ‘I do not wish to see you in pain,’ his voice trembles slightly. He intertwines his and Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s fingers together, an intimate gesture only reserved for the closest of lovers, but Ŏ’ŗên finds himself feeling… nothing at all, really, apart from his heart aching and threatening to burst at the same time from the scene before him and his affection towards his bondmate. ‘Sleep now, love,’ he hears his bondmate say to his counterpart before pressing a kiss with his lips onto Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s brow, and he knows that Leya is copying him then: this is how Ŏ’ŗên puts him to sleep when he has trouble doing so by himself. ‘I will be here when you wake up,’ he breathes into Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s skin. ‘Sleep well.’

A small smile appears on Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s face as his eyes slip shut. A few more shallow breaths.

Stillness comes right after.

Leya pulls his hand away from Other-Ŏ’ŗên’s slack fingers and slowly turns his overflowing eyes towards his actual bondmate, and the memory dissolves into a fog quickly blown away to bring both of them back to the deck, the hills of crops, the setting sun. It is at this moment that Ŏ’ŗên realises that he is holding his bondmate’s hands uncomfortably tight in his grip, so he lets go and cups Leya’s cheeks instead, his thumb wiping his tears away. ‘My Wheaty,’ he says, finally understanding what happened. So this is why the pain feels so familiar. ‘No one deserves to die alone. In the last moments of my counterpart’s life, you gave him hope, gave him peace. He died knowing that he was loved and his t’hy’la will be with him forever.’

‘But Ŏ’ŗên, what if there is no other side?’ Leya’s hands fly to his face. ‘Elements, what if the other side is not what I promised him to be? What will the other you become? What if -’ his chest heaves - ‘What if the other me isn’t there when I promised that he will never be alone again? I would have given a man hope and - and shattered it! All because I couldn’t control myself!’

He is trembling and breathing heavily by the last word, angry tears rolling down his already-puffy eyes, and Ŏ’ŗên knows that he has to do something to remedy what can spiral off into an uncontrollable outburst. Sliding his arms underneath his bondmate’s thighs, he hoists him up without any warning, Leya wrapping his knobbly limbs around his torso instinctively and holding on for dear life with his face buried in Ŏ’ŗên’s shoulder, and he takes them both indoors back into their shared bedroom and throws his bondmate onto the pile of blankets and pillows which absorbs all the impact and makes Leya sink into it instead of letting him bounce. Before he can react, Ŏ’ŗên slams himself on top of his bondmate with his arms at Leya’s eye level so that he is the only thing Leya can see, smell, feel. A long, deep breath, and Leya places his hand on Ŏ’ŗên’s chest to signify that he is ready, rolling them over so that he is lying half on top of Ŏ’ŗên with his head on his chest.

Ŏ’ŗên kisses the top of his bondmate’s head. ‘My counterpart died in peace. You did what you could to relieve his pain and gave him peace when he was near his end, and that’s…’ he trails off.

‘All that matters,’ Leya finishes for him, and his voice breaks as his face scrunches up. He buries his face in the crook of Ŏ’ŗên’s neck, tears staining skin wet and soaking fabric, but Ŏ’ŗên can sense from their bond that his bondmate is feeling much better now, the sharp pain fading into a dull throbbing that will likely continue for some time before Leya finds himself distracted by other matters - that is how he dealt with grief before, and Ŏ’ŗên doubts that it will change this time.

He had no one, Leya’s voice suddenly echoes in his mind. He had cut off his family a long time ago. They couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to help with his pain, and he loved them so much that he couldn’t bear to let them know he gave up his life for a long-dead person he had never met. He will be remembered by the void he created in his family and friends’ life, not for who he really was.

But we do, Ŏ’ŗên replies. We remember him.

But what if I forget? It is inevitable given my position between this universe and the extra-dimensional world. One day I will process knowledge too much for my brain to handle, and I will be forced to discard some of it. Memories of our children. Of your counterpart. Of us growing up together. Of you. I might forget them one day and…

You won’t.

But -

You are mortal, Wheaty, Leya, my love, Ŏ’ŗên gives his shoulders a squeeze. ‘There will be a finite end for you and me. I promise.’

It is an empty one, he knows. He is not the one who can jump across universes unscathed. He is not the one who can live in between dimensions. He is not the one alive only because he is bounded to a higher dimension. Elements, he doesn’t even believe in an afterlife in the sense that there is a new world for him to explore and live in after he leaves this world, but he knows, from what Leya told him many times before, that every single person, every single act, every single change - all of them leave a unique imprint in the universe waiting for the right person to discover and learn from. Maybe this is enough to leave a mark in the unending river of spacetime. Maybe they will tell their children about it, someday, when they grow up and start to develop their own powers. Maybe they will join their counterparts afterwards, who knows? It’s not like he can look into the future.

Thank you.

Oops. Didn’t mean for you to hear that.

In any case.

Kaiidth.

And look at what it made me into.

What, the most wonderful bondmate a Rihannsu can ask for?

Leya thumps his fist lightly on Ŏ’ŗên’s shoulder. You are insufferable.

I love you.

Leya sighs as fondness bleeds through the bond. And I you.

Their minds suddenly become much busier and conscious. Their children are awake.

Dinner? Ŏ’ŗên asks everyone.

The cascade of sleepy yes’s brings a smile to his face.

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i wrote this mostly to kick myself to finally spitting out this ficverse, so if anyone is interested in more of it please do let me know. i’ll write more.

#nero #ayel #star trek xi #nero x ayel #nero/ayel #romulan #romulans #rihannsu #star trek #kelvin timeline

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shipitliketheussenterprise · 6 years

Text

Gems from the script of Star Trek (2009)

SPOCK I came with the intention of enrolling, as my father wished. However, your "insight" has convinced me otherwise. Therefore, the only emotion I wish to convey is gratitude. Thank you, Ministers, for your consideration. (a contained "fuck you") Live long and prosper.

-- PUSH DOWN A HALLWAY -- MUSIC HEARD -- what seems like a PARTY is going on through windows in the double-doors ahead -- and a WOMAN SWOOPS INTO VIEW in front of us -- we PUSH BEHIND HER in the short skirt and high boots as she ENTERS the place -- a local, busy BAR -- the woman makes her way to the BAR, and we see her GORGEOUS, DIGNIFIED FACE. THIS IS UHURA. She leans into the bartender warmly, her smile glorious:

KIRK Come to think of it, I do want to feel special. You know what? I'm gonna go start a book club--

Ayel hides his disappointment behind his eyes as suddenly -- A LIGHTNING STORM -- impossibly, from nowhere -- LOTS OF IT -- and through the lightning erupts THE JELLYFISH -- THE SHIP NERO HAS BEEN LOOKING FOR DECADES.

spock prime’s ship was originally supposed to look like a jellyfish are you kidding me

President nods toward the assembly. SPOCK RISES. He and Kirk MEET EYES for the first time. It's clock-stopping.

SPOCK How long did it take you to program the virus that allowed you to cheat?

The President smirks; considers ending this now but doesn't, it's just too damn entertaining...

KIRK Maybe you just don't like that I beat your test.

KIRK (CONT'D) And if that's the case -- What's that say about your ability to make command decisions?

Well. Looks like Kirk just hit him in HIS fucking weak spot. And before this lovefest can continue --

PIKE (fucking with him) -- and you are a pilot, right?

(to Pike) You know that, I read your dissertation. Which was good.

All eyes on Pike. He looks to Spock, who could screw Kirk here... But--

Uhura sits at the console -- she PUTS ON THE EARPIECE. We've just watched the birth of an icon. She works the controls --

Kirk and Sulu share a HOLY FUCKING SHIT look --

(Spock is freaked, then)

They appreciate the pure BALLS of that. BRAVERY washes over them -- they'd fucking DIE for their Captain, who now turns to Kirk and Sulu --

Kirk nods at him -- subtext: "What a fucking sack." He looks to Sulu.

SPOCK and UHURA meet eyes -- this is fucking insane -- and a MAN'S ENTHUSIASTIC YELLING takes us to:

PIKE I'm Captain Christopher Pi--

WHACK! He's cut off by a PUNCH to the face. Drops to his knees. Looks up at Ayel with blazing eyes, wipes a trickle of blood from his lip:

PIKE (CONT'D) So much for diplomacy.

SULU None of this is familiar-- the interface, the controls--

KIRK SULU Step back-- -- what, you have an idea? -- yeahyeah, I do--

Kirk FIRES his PHASER at the console, BLASTING IT --

COMPUTER VOICE Current location Delta Vega: Class "M" Planet, unsafe. You have been ordered to remain in your pod until retrieved by Starfleet authorities.

KIRK Bite me, how's that.

The CANOPY RISES -- a blast of cold air hits Kirk -- with some agony, out he goes -- he CLIMBS UP THE TUBE OF SNOW -- and gets to the surface -- looks out. HE'S IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE. Finally:

KIRK (CONT'D) SONOFABITCH-BITCH-BITCH! THERE'S NOTHING HERE!!! YOU NECK-PINCHING MOTHERF--!!!

KIRK (CONT'D) Acting Captain Spock -- whose only form of expression's apparently limited to his left damn eyebrow -- has marooned me on Delta Vega in what I believe to be a violation of security protocol 49.09, governing the treatment of prisoners aboard a st--

Kirk FREEZES at a nearby GROWL. He looks -- sees nothing -- then ANOTHER GROWL -- he turns -- some thirty feet away, an eleven foot-tall cross between a polar bear and a gorilla (it's a POLARILLA) steps out from behind a mass of ice. Sees Kirk. It's horrifying. Kirk takes a SLOW, SMALL STEP BACKWARD -- and the fucking thing CHARGES HIM -- KIRK RUNS, TERRIFIED -- and the POLARILLA PURSUES -- gaining -- it's gonna EAT HIM ALIVE WHEN SUDDENLY --

a polarilla are you kidding me

And the Figure turns... we may have recognized the voice. IT'S SPOCK. As in NIMOY. HERE.

KIRK -- no, I don't know you -- the only Vulcan I know isn't exactly a buddy.

Of all the things Spock predicted Kirk might say, it wasn't that.

A fucking BLIZZARD. Kirk and Spock Prime move through the maddening whiteout. Kirk yells through it:

KIRK I AM SO PISSED OFF AT THE OTHER YOU RIGHT NOW!

And Kirk runs after him -- down the length of the ORANGE, TWISTING and TURNING tubes -- SCOTTY SEEN every time he enters a CLEAR TUBE AREA -- then DISAPPEARING again into the ORANGE tubes -- and Scotty gets sucked UPWARDS -- and Kirk turns and looks -- FOLLOWS THE LENGTH OF TUBE -- SEEING WHERE IT'S HEADING -- TO A GIANT WATER TURBINE -- essentially? A MASSIVE FUCKING BLENDER.

SAREK Spock!

And everything -- everything -- STOPS. Spock, red-faced, releases his grip. Kirk GULPS air and tumbles to the ground. Spock staggers back. Kirk's hardly able to speak, close to collapsing. But despite his brutalized face, his expression isn't about spite, or hatred... but compassion.

MCCOY Wait a minute-- anyone understand this kid? How old are you?

CHEKOV I am seventeen, Sir, how old are you?

MCCOY We're all old enough to shave here.

KIRK AND SPOCK STAND ON THE TRANSPORTER PAD, SIDE-BY-SIDE AND FACING THE SAME DIRECTION FOR THE FIRST TIME -- AN ICONIC IMAGE -

KIRK Just trust me. Can ya do that?

Spock weigh his options. Trust.

SPOCK PRIME An act of faith. One I hope you'll repeat in the future.

Young Spock considers an enduring friendship between him and Kirk... for the first time, understanding it. But --

And Kirk pauses. His eyes go over to the empty science console with a sense of incompleteness. In fact, everyone on the bridge feels it. A bitter truth they'll have to accept.

Kirk nearly laughs. Spock's eyebrow goes up. Something passes between them... it carries acceptance, and trust...

As the ship maneuvers out of dry dock, Spock takes his place next to Kirk. Gold and blue, side by side.

And from around his neck, he removes the PENDANT that until now, we've only caught glimpses of. Places it on the table beside his younger self. The feeling in his eyes is profound...

SPOCK PRIME (CONT'D) This was a gift to me. Representing... a dream. One we were unable to fulfill. (softly) The way you can now.

KIRK/SHATNER (V.O.) I suppose I'd always imagined us... outgrowing Starfleet together. Watching life swing us into our Emeritus years...

KIRK/SHATNER (CONT'D) You once said being a starship captain was my first, best destiny... if that's true, then yours is to be by my side. If there's any true logic to the universe... we'll end up on that bridge again someday.

CADETS AT STARFLEET:

CADET Heard that guy passed second-year exams in his first term.

CADET (CONT'D) Ruining the curve for everyone.

CADET (CONT'D) I'd like to load her photon tubes.

CADET (CONT'D) Can't believe I failed the navigational comp.

CADET (CONT'D) The Newton's not an antique, it's a classic. Give me the Newton over the Enterprise any day.

CADET (CONT'D) Did you see the new assignment roster?

CADET (CONT'D) I flunked the sub-atomic particles quiz.

CADET (CONT'D) They better give me a red shirt for this.

CADET (CONT'D) Do we have time to get married?

CADET (CONT'D) (on one knee) I know this is sudden, but... will you marry me?

CADET (CONT'D) I'm calling my Mom...

CADET (CONT'D) Can't believe I'm on the Mayflower...

tl;dr Kirk is insane, Spirk is SO REAL, Uhura is a goddess, and Chekov is a sassy lil bitch

#spirk #spock #kirk #star trek 2009 #script #uhura #chekov #bones #leonard mccoy

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