It’s #WIPpet Wednesday again!

The purpose ofK.L,Schwengel’s brainchild is to encourage writers to move their WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.

WIPpet NaNo Math:

Today is November 20, 2013.

  • For today’s offering, ….yeah, well. I’m going to ‘fess up.  There is no math – I’m NaNo-mad, and numbers aren’t cooperating.  So there it is…I’m a  WIPpet rebel! =)

During November, I offer my brand-spanking new for NaNo 2013 Trueborn Warp series Star Trek fan fiction WIP, King of Shreds and Patches.

Here’s the logline I’ve created for it:

Spock and an enigmatic woman from a troubled time in his past struggle to save two worlds from alien threats, neither knowing whether their renewed connection will bring salvation or devastation.

Since there are four point of view characters in this WIP, and four weeks, I will be sharing a snippet of each character’s opening scene – a bit I think speaks to where they are at the beginning of things.

This week, we visit with Amanda, Spock’s human mother, who has not heard from her son in over four years…until this moment.

This WIP deals with the time frame and events covered in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. For those who want a context within the Trueborn double series, these events take place before Spock discovers whether his T’Lys is real, or a childhood dream he’s expanded on over the years.

It’s the companion volume to Sima Garo Provides (Trueborn Weft Series), original fantasy.

This rough-draft passage is lightly edited to remove obvious gaffes and for style.

Enjoy!

“Were you expecting a call, my wife?”

She didn’t answer. She was already up and on her way. Anything had to be better than sitting here with him, trying to pretend that he didn’t seem such a stranger, this morning, and this life some facsimile of a real one.

Saved by the bell, she thought – and then she saw the coded name of the caller, and her heart began to pound as she stared at the screen, unable to move to engage it.

Was this goodbye – finally, and irrevocably? Why would he call now, though, when he hadn’t contacted a single one of his associates in all the intervening years? Or had he finally learned what she had always known – that to attempt to eradicate his emotions was to eradicate himself?

She wasn’t going to get the answer by staring at his name on the screen.

Amanda took three deep breaths – or meant to. Halfway through the second, her hand darted out and engaged the screen –

And she gasped at what she saw, half-falling into the chair, her knees no longer willing to hold her weight.

“Spock!”

The man on the other end of the transmission jumped at the sound of her voice, eyes wild, bloodshot, and white-rimmed in a gaunt and masklike face.

He was filthy. His long hair was tangled and matted, he hadn’t shaved, and he was shirtless, his chest smeared with what looked like caked blood and sand. He was not so much breathing as he was panting, a sharp,ragged sound in the quiet of the room. He stared at her, or through her. The time upon the Forge, and away from humans, showed in the intensity of that stare. It made her deeply uneasy – he neither blinked not gave any cue that he recognized her – but she determined that she would not look away unless he did, first…something in her that had been too long asleep was waking, and it said that she must not reject him, in this moment, or all would be lost.

She was aware of Sarek, behind her, out of view of the screen. But she held to her son’s wild stare; her husband knew well how to care for himself, but this man before her seemed more lost than anyone she had ever seen.

Amanda was terrified.

Finally, in a raping, halting voice – a voice that seemed to have forgotten how to speak, Spock said, “Qu’al se tu, Amanda?”

“Yes, it’s me, Spock.” But that didn’t shift his stare, or his panting, and she added, “It’s Mother, son.”

“Mother….” He seemed almost not to recognize the word – but he had always known it, and in Standard. “No….I have none.”

Behind her, Sarek made a small, surprised intake of breath, hearing the echo of his own words from this ruin of a man who had once been their son.

There we have it – a mother and a son, and, in the shadowy background of things, a father. Why has Spock called? Will Amanda be able to help him find himself again? Why does he think he has no mother?

No, I’m not telling you – not yet. I’m still writing it, and I want you all curious and eager when I come back! =D

And stay tuned for December, too, when I will be offering a bit of a holiday treat – each week, YOU will get to pick the WIP, and the POV character!

And here’s a song that seems to fit, and which holds deep personal meaning to me. So, for Amanda and Spock, and in remembrance of a man named Tim, I offer…

And now – release the comment hounds ! =)

Want more WIPpets? Click the cute little blue froggy to read what other #WIPpeteers are writing, or to join in yourself! We love new folks, around here!

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