[Spock sends calming images to the creature. His own home comes to mind, a desert land with deserts and high mountains, dusty and bright red. He also sends through an image of his mother teaching him how to play the Vulcan-Lyre... its soft tones float through the link.]
I am Spock. I cannot sing like you do, but I will not hurt you. Do you have a name?
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I am Spock. I cannot sing like you do, but I will not hurt you. Do you have a name?