In a world not our own

Virgil for the wounded

"Slap me." Spock requested.

Slap!

"Again." Spock requested.

Slap!

Depending on the severity of the wound, Vulcans can heal it by focusing on it and being in a trance like state. He wasn't aware when human beings were doing a emergency operation without using sedation. It was a miracle the operation succeeded. He was in utter darkness. He could hear and feel. Spock, being half Vulcan, was aided by his Vulcan half to heal from the injuries. He was in a gray attire: pants and shirt. His arm felt sore but that was another problem for another time. The rest of his body needed to awake. It was like he was stuck in his sleep. Spock hadn't known how many times he had requested to be slapped, maybe a hundred thirty-two times before someone finally did it.

"Again." Spock said.

SLAAAP

"Mr Kirk, what good does slapping do with a Vulcan who's been out two months?" Came the voice of a young man.

"A lot of good," Came Jim's voice. "How long has he been speaking?"

"Um, er. . . I am just a concerned surgeon, not a security guard." Came the young man's voice.

"Mr Smith, you are part of this,now," Jim said. "And if it wasn't for you: Spock would still be not getting the help he needed!"

"Slap me." Spock requested.

Slap!

"They are coming!" Smith shouted.

Then Jim whispered into Spock's ear, "I know you view me as your T'hy'la. How come you never told me that? I have told plenty of women this, but this time . . . I really mean it, Spock. I love you, too." Then Jim went up full level.

"I will act as a distraction." Jim said.

"But Kirk--" Smith said.

"Continue slapping him, and that's an order from your superior." Jim said.

"That is suicide going out in a hail of bullets!" Smith said.

"Ever played cat and mouse?" Jim asked.

"No." Smith said.

"I have, plenty of times. Besides, I am not going to be running from bullets." That would have earned a raised eyebrow from Spock. "Enough distraction, enough slaps," Jim snapped his fingers. "And Spock will be up."

Then Spock heard Jim leave.

Jim.

"Slap me, harder."

SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

"Harder!" Spock demanded.

SLAP!

"I knew I should have become a dentist!" Smith said.

"Harder!" Spock, demanded.

SLAAP!

The rest of Spock's senses were alerted and his logically mind started to process the events that were transpiring. He was preparing to wake up. He heard the sound of what was a door slamming open, demands for hands in the air, and then a gun shot. He heard a body thud to the ground. The comment, "Doctor Smith has been terminated." That meant only one thing: the man slapping him was dead. He listened to the sound of a body being dragged out of the room by what sounded like two men. The other men got out of the room talking about a mad man resembling the very much alive William Shatner in custody and how. . . young he was. The mannerism he spoke with was very odd. Almost like he was ripped out of a 1960's TV show with pauses in-between his breath and hand gestures that were unbelieveable and laughable.

"And he seems to be part of this operation to get this alien."

"Agreed."

"Who in their right mind would get a breakthrough in alien biology and attempt to steal it?"

"A mad man calling himself James Tiberius Kirk."

"Correction: Jim Kirk."

"What a laugh."

"Captain Kirk isn't even real yet the lunatic prefers to be called Jim."

The doors closed behind the two men.

Spock's eyes opened.

How did Jim know?

Logically, he must have searched online regarding his future. Kirk knew Spock's future or at least one possible future and possibly the past. Logically both of the solutions must be the answer however improbable they are which makes them both possible even how impossible they seem. In came two security guards with guns in what seemed to be black matching suits. Spock stared into their eyes implanting a suggestion that is not Jedi-like but Vulcan really. The second security officer faced toward the other then knocked him out cold landing to the ground.

"Where is Jim held?" Spock asked.

"I don't have to tell you." The second security officer said.

Spock stared into the man's eyes with a tilt of his head that was creepy and a little bit. . . terrifying. His face was stoic, emotionless, and expressionless. The security guard stepped back dropping his gun trembling. The door had been closed by the first security guard when entering the room. The second security guard was afraid. Now here was a alien like being with the face,voice, and just about everything of the late Leonard Nimoy getting off the bed stepping forwards.

"I do not wish a forceful mind meld," Spock said. "You must tell me. Vulcans do not engage in forceful mind melds when not necessary."

Spock straightened his head.

"That is terrifying." The man said, as he was trembling.

"I am not terrifying, you are simply afraid of a dead man," Spock said. "Are you afraid of a harmless dead man?" He stepped forward. "I am a Vulcan. Commander Spock and Science Officer of the USS Enterprise. I am not Leonard Nimoy. I do not come to harm you. Vulcans do not harm the innocent without reason."

"B--b-b--" The man said, but Spock cut him off.

"Harmless." Spock said.

The man's back met the wall.

"I am flesh and bone. I must get to my friend then get out of here," Spock said. "Do you know what they might do knowing I am wide awake?"

The man shook his head.

"Attempt to make their own Vulcans," Spock said. "For all I know: they exist. It is a logical assumption. Therefore: cloning me is illogical. If humanity were aliens and aliens were to one day clone you to create more of these 'aliens': would that be illogical?" The man nodded. "We are getting on the even field as I understand. No," Spock shook his head. "Same page." Spock had that bemused look in his eye. "I understand that phrase now . . . more clearly than ever."

And just like that the man started talking.