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"First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "Oh, list,"
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second passed in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed
I have been proud and said, 'My love, my own.'"
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, (a Jamaican by choice, from Falmouth, Trelawny Parish, where still stands her favourite church, btw) Sonnets from the Portuguese, XXXVIII
Filthy and dishevelled, the Chief Weapons and Navigation officer of the Excalibur, James Kirk, was rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as Commodore Wesley continued his debriefing. "Commander Kirk, what made you realize that the M5 would, well, kill itself if convinced it had committed murder?"
Kirk straightened his back and winced as his broken ribs rubbed nastily together. The violence done to his ship, his home, was horrendous; Excalibur had been nearly destroyed by the M5 computer. He shot a glance at the Enterprise officers, but they didn't acknowledge him: Pike and Spock sat like wax figures of themselves on the other side of the table. As they should, he thought. It should have been them that fixed it, that shut down the M5. But it hadn't been them, they had stood by and watched as the taskforce had been toasted like buns on a grill. Kirk cleared his throat, the smoke of the attack on Excalibur still irritating his lungs.
"I didn't know if it would. I had read the design protocols, all the navigation staff did before the simulation began. The primary function of the computer was to save lives, after all. I took a chance." He was exhausted. It seemed like days had passed since the M5 had fired on his ship, instead of a few short hours. "Its attacks matched the programming exactly, though of course, with live weapons. It seemed to follow that if that part of the programming was working so well, perhaps the other directives were also functioning."
"You took a lot of damage."
"Captain Harris..." Kirk swallowed. He didn't want to speak ill of his recently dead commanding officer, but the record needed to be correctly set down. "We were first targeted, of course, and I think Captain Harris simply didn't believe that the Enterprise was using live weapons. We only lost 12 in that attack, unfortunately including the Captain and First Officer SanCristo. I ordered shields up, but most of our shield controls were damaged or destroyed already, and we were pretty much dead in space. So when the second attack began we couldn't defend ourselves at all. I suppose I was hoping that Enterprise would disarm the computer, but they didn't. The second attack on Excalibur... that's when most of the casualties occurred. The only fully functional system on the ship was communications."
"So you broadcast that speech. It was... rather emotional. Why did you think a computer would respond to an emotional plea?"
"M5 wasn't acting in a logical way, so I used emotion. Daystrom was an emotional man. I met him a few years ago, and knew that, if he had anything to do with the computer malfunction... as I say, I took a chance. For all I knew, the Enterprise crew had already been killed by the computer trying to defend itself. I thought it might have used the anti-intruder gas. I had to believe they were dead. Someone needed to act."
"It was a brilliant solution. You've earned a commendation, Mister Kirk," Wesley said, "and a recommendation for promotion. We need more people like you in command, people who can think outside the box."
"I just got there faster than anyone else, sir," Kirk replied, uneasy with the praise. Too many lives had been lost for him to find pride in a commendation.
"We're all glad you did," Pike said, voice shaky. The fact that his ship, Enterprise, Star Fleet's flagship, had attacked the fleet taskforce and caused so many deaths had rocked him badly, Kirk saw. Beside Pike, his first officer nodded curtly.
"An elegant and logical solution, applied in an efficient manner."
Kirk looked at the Vulcan first officer of the Enterprise, and smiled. Talk about elegant and logical! "Thank you, Mister Spock. Praise from a Vulcan about logic, is praise indeed."
He enjoyed the reaction, one delicate eyebrow shooting up.
Wesley cleared his throat. "Mister Kirk, as Captain Harris and your first officer, SanCristo, were killed in the initial attack, I am giving you field promotion to acting Captain of the Excalibur, with orders to proceed to space dock for repairs. What do you need to get underway?"
"Oh, god. Sorry, Commodore, the damage is so extensive that my engineers haven't been able to give me an estimate yet, and half the crew is either dead or on the injured list. The main hangar bay is functioning as a temporary morgue, and the main recreation area is serving as a triage centre. Repairing sickbay's damaged equipment is our first priority. The engines are providing enough power for life support and emergency services, but it will be several days, at least, before I can switch my priorities to the engines, with so many crew people down."
"Commodore," Spock broke in smoothly. "If I may make a suggestion?"
"Go ahead, Mister Spock."
"Enterprise's medical facilities and crew areas are undamaged, and we have only a small complement on board at this time, leaving us with crew quarters that are 90 percent empty. It may prove more efficient to transfer the crew of the Excalibur there, leaving only the healthy engineering crew and a skeleton operating crew aboard Excalibur. That way Captain Kirk can concentrate his useful resources on getting the ship underway. Our ship's stores can be put at the disposal of the repair crews for Lexington and Excalibur, while our ship's medical facilities care for the wounded."
Kirk flinched at the sound of his name said that way. 'Captain Kirk'. Something he'd worked for all his life. Too bad so many people had died to get him that title. Lord, he would miss Harris. Unimaginative man, perhaps, but a decent and honourable commander. Captain Harris would be missed, SanCristo would be missed. All the dead would be missed. "That makes sense," he ventured.
Pike nodded. "It does. I could loan you Commander Spock to stand in as your first officer. His expertise with engine systems and computers should help speed up the process. I'm afraid I need to keep my engineering staff aboard, though. M5 did a fair amount of damage with that uncontrolled shutdown."
Wesley slapped the table once. "Excellent suggestion, Mister Spock. Pike, implement it and co-ordinate the transfer of personnel and supplies. Use Enterprise's transporters to save energy on the damaged ships. Mister... pardon me, Captain Kirk, my thanks again. Though we lost many people today, it would have been a much worse disaster without your quick thinking. Spock, beam back to Enterprise and collect whatever you think you'll need to assist aboard the Excalibur, and report to Captain Kirk. Keep me posted on your progress, gentlemen, I want to see the ship's logs daily from this entire task force. Dismissed."
Kirk rose as Wesley stood up and paced out of the room. He turned and accepted a handshake from Pike, and suddenly found himself shaking hands and being pounded on the back and congratulated by the command crews of the other four ships. It was overwhelming for a minute, but finally he threw up his hands. "People, people! First things first. I have a ship to repair, and I have friends to..." he stopped. Around him the other crews sobered. "I have letters to write to the families of many fallen friends. Let's just get to work."
They filed out ahead of him. Kirk turned to see the Vulcan, Spock, still seated at the table. "Mister Spock? Aren't you going to beam back to the Enterprise?"
"Yes, Captain. However, I wish to ascertain beforehand if there are any special requirements you have."
Kirk felt puzzled. "Me personally?"
"No, sir. Is there anything in particular you wish me to bring along when I report to the Excalibur?"
"Unless you can find me a decent bottle of scotch, Mister Spock, I will leave the rest to your technical expertise until we get a full damage report from my engineering department."
The eyebrow rose again. "Very well, then," Spock said, getting up from his chair. "I shall report to Excalibur once I have gathered my personal belongings and a computer diagnostic kit."
"Good. I'm glad we'll have your help on this. You've got a hell of a reputation as a very efficient and capable officer." Kirk tipped the Vulcan a tired smile, and then padded out the door. He needed a report from engineering first, he decided. Then a shower and a clean uniform. Then some tape on his ribs until he could get them regenerated. Sleep could wait until later.
Damn Daystrom and his computer. So many needless deaths. So many.
***
"There is absolutely no way to repair the warp engines without the main computer, Captain," Chief Engineer Simms was summing up, "and even if we could, it would be impossible to navigate the ship in warp without working algorithms from the mainframe. We can get impulse power within 48 hours, but the computer..."
Kirk nodded and turned to Spock, standing beside him, his hands clasped behind his back. "You're the computer man, Spock. How soon can you give me an estimated return to service time?"
"Unknown, Captain." Spock had joined him in engineering immediately after beaming over from Enterprise. Most of the crew transfer had been completed, and engineering was requisitioning the parts they would need for their repairs. "I will survey the damage immediately. Do you have any staff conversant with the computer system on this ship?"
"Just me, I'm afraid. When the photon torpedo hit L section it killed most of our technicians, and the rest are on Enterprise, recuperating. But I'm not bad at computer diagnostics and repair, though nowhere near in your league."
"Then perhaps you will join me and we can ascertain the extent of the damage. I wish to requisition replacement parts from the other ships as soon as possible, to allow them to get underway."
"Right this way. Keep me posted on the impulse drive, Simms, and get someone to check over the shields and weapons systems. I want that damage report ASAP."
"Yes, sir. And congratulations on your promotion, Jim."
"Thanks, Eloise, but the cost takes any pleasure out of it. Don't forget to eat."
"Don't forget to get those ribs taped."
Kirk strode out of Engineering beside Spock, who shot him a quizzical glance. "Yes, Mister Spock?"
"Your Chief Engineer's reference to ribs. I do not understand it."
Kirk almost laughed. "Nothing important, Mister Spock. I took a fall on the bridge during the attack, but I am still functioning, as you see."
Spock stopped. "You have injuries?"
"Very minor ones, I assure you. A couple of broken ribs."
"Minor or not, Captain, you should have them seen to immediately. There is still a doctor aboard, and you cannot operate efficiently as the commander of this vessel with untended injuries that might prove serious if aggravated. As your acting first officer, I must insist you report to sickbay."
Blinking rapidly, Kirk assessed the man standing beside him. "You sound very determined, Mister Spock."
"I know my duty, Captain. I shall make a note in my log of your behaviour should you refuse to comply with your own duties. Keeping yourself in good physical condition is one of your primary duties, and you are neglecting it."
Kirk glared; Spock merely gazed at him, face unchanged. After a moment Kirk's brain kicked in and he smiled in capitulation. "You're absolutely right. You know your way to the mainframe, I expect?"
"I do."
"Then I am going to have my ribs seen to. I will join you as soon as I can."
Cursing himself for a fool, Kirk first made his way to his cabin and straight into the sonic shower, peeling his clothes off once inside. It took only seconds for the grime and soot to be removed. He left the clothes on the floor and donned a new uniform from his closet, the quarter-braid on his cuffs drawing his attention.
Should he requisition a captain's uniform? No. No, that was going too far. No way Fleet would confirm his promotion and give him Excalibur, even if he did deserve it right now. He was far too young. No one made captain at 33. If he put on the shirt people would think he was getting a big head.
On the other hand, it might help the crew to know that someone was at the helm. He sighed and asked the computer to provide him with a captain's shirt, and looked at the gold cloth that the replicator delivered with ambivalence. He had always hoped for this, and yet he could hardly stand the circumstances that brought it about.
Kirk shrugged, changed his shirt, and left for sickbay without trying to analyze anything further. Fate had made him captain, he would live with it.
Sickbay was empty, though the detritus of the disaster and the attempt to treat over a hundred injured people was everywhere, along with the smell of burned circuitry. He poked his head into the main office, to see one of the junior doctors at the desk, head buried in her hands. "Hey, Parva."
The woman looked up, and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Jim."
"Come here..." she rose and stumbled into his arms. Although not lovers, he and Parva had been mutual defusers many times, and he knew what she needed. He held her for a moment while she cried, her arms around his neck. After a bit she looked up at him and dropped her arms to give him a hug, but at his gasp of pain she released him.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Ribs. Fell on the railing during the first attack."
"Shit, Jim! I only have a basic field regeneration device for lacerations, too. Useless for bones. Let me get my tricorder." All business again, the doctor pulled the instrument from amid a pile of equipment on her desk and pointed it at him. "Shit shit shit. That's three, one for each cracked rib. I'm afraid it's going to be the old fashioned method, or you could beam over to Enterprise..."
"They need every erg they have over there for our wounded, Parva. Just tape me up, and once we're running properly here you can seal them for me. Okay? They're not interfering with me, just irritating."
"That will have to do, I suppose. Can you get your shirt off?"
"No problem. Listen, do you have any background in Vulcan medicine? Our acting first officer is Spock, from the Enterprise, and you should be prepared in case anything else goes wrong." Kirk got his shirt off and settled on a stool while Parva brought out tape and scissors.
"Spock? Really? Well, I'd have him report for a physical, normally, but I don't have any recording equipment anyway, and the computer's down. Lift your arms, Jim, and hold them behind your head. Spine straight. I'd have to look up almost anything that went wrong with him. Especially considering he's a hybrid."
"He is?" Kirk winced as Parva began to wind the tape around him. "Hybrid with what species?"
"Human, actually. His mother. Very interesting, a case study in 3rd year xeno. Half in-vetro, half in-vivo, it was an extremely complex conception, and most of his genes are absolutely unique. Weird stuff, like he can't catch 'flu, but he can get most kinds of Human cancers. Strange physiology. Don't worry, I know McCoy over on the Enterprise, and if anything happens with Spock he's the galactic expert."
"Ouch!"
"Don't be a baby. There, all done."
"Thanks, you're a pal." He donned his shirt. "I'll be in the mainframe core room. Don't forget to eat, Doctor."
"You too. Captain."
***
He found Spock at a tertiary console hidden near the back of the mainframe, intent on the screen before him. "Status, Commander?"
"The damage is extensive, Captain, but it appears that the core memory and operating system are undamaged. It is the access ports and subsidiary systems that sustained the most damage. I could not access the main terminal, and the subsidiary terminals here and ship-wide are cut off. The computer is not responding to voice commands. It is a matter, first, of repairing the routing systems and recognition algorithms. Are you familiar with them?" Spock's fingers hadn't stopped moving, nor had he looked up at Kirk while he spoke. Kirk realized that working with a Vulcan, or half-Vulcan, would require some adjustment to his normal social cuing systems.
"I am. Point me, and I'll start wiring."
"Most of these damaged connections are infrared ports, sir. Wireless."
"Figure of speech, Mister Spock. I know where the spares are. Give me a list of positions and a set of tools."
"The printing system is not functioning, nor can I transfer data to a padd."
"Give me the first one, then, and you can call them out after that. Are they grouped together?"
"The first fifty-two are in the same locker. IRS14. Please be advised that there may be dangerously sharp or twisted metal in the area. Once those are repaired we can initiate a data terminal in the engineering department. I have memorized the list, and will call them out as you require them. I will be working on re-initializing the navigations protocols."
Memorized a list of fifty-two complex numbers at a glance. Huh. Kirk strode to the spares bins and filled his pockets with spare ports and port-chips, and then picked up the tool kit Spock indicated before walking back to locker IRS14. It was an underfoot locker. He sighed for his ribs, lifted the panel, and lay down on his belly, glancing over the complex circuitry within. "First one, please?"
"14 dash 718B"
Several hours passed in what felt, to Kirk, like companionable silence, broken only by the sounds of tools, the click of circuit chips and discs being replaced, and Spock's instructions about the next thing that needed doing. Kirk supposed that, to Spock, this was simply the way he always worked and there was nothing 'companionable' about it. They were interrupted twice by communications from engineering, updating Kirk on the progress of the impulse drive once, and thanking him for the data terminal the second time.
"That means, sir, that we can get onto the warp drive next. Based on the reports we have now, and the computer input, I estimate 5 days until the warp engines are functional."
"Pass that report along to the Lexington, Mister Simms. My compliments to the Commodore, and we expect to be underway in 5 days."
"Yes, sir."
Kirk released the comm. button and stepped away...
"Sir? Captain Kirk! Sickbay, medical..."
"No need, Spock." The dizziness passed. "I think it's just low blood sugar."
"Sickbay, cancel call." The Vulcan released his arm and Kirk squared his shoulders. "You require sustenance."
"You've been working as long as I have, Spock!"
"When did you last eat?"
"Probably right around the same time you did. Before the M5 fiasco."
"That is correct. However, as a Vulcan I do not require food on the same schedule as a human does. You must eat, sir."
Kirk chuckled. "You sound like me. This crew is so full of workaholics that they always need reminding. Well, let's go get some dinner, Mister Spock. What time is it anyway?"
"0347."
"God, no wonder I'm empty. Shall we go?"
"It would be an appropriate time to take a refreshment break. And I think that, after that, you would be wise to take a few hours of sleep."
"You're probably right. Damn! I forgot to assign quarters for you, I'm sorry. Look the cabin next to mine is empty right now, we're due a new helmsman first class... or we were. Now we're due almost everything. Deck 5 cabin C12..." The Vulcan was looking at him strangely. "What?"
"That is my cabin designation on the Enterprise."
"Well that will make it easy to remember."
"I would not have difficulty remembering..."
"Teasing, Spock. Let's get some food."
The mess was a mess. Though several crewmen were working on the equipment, the replicators were still malfunctioning. The emergency kitchen in the back had been opened up, and a small group of very tired engineers were clustered around the few tables available. They greeted Kirk as he and Spock walked through, warmly enough, Kirk thought. Good people. All of them.
"Tangelino? What you got on the menu?"
"Hi, Jim. Or, I should say, Captain. And you must be Commander Spock." A very short Human man with steel-grey hair and an enormous belly appeared behind the steam table. "I have three choices for you, ready made. Chicken stew, not very interesting but good. I'd recommend you add pepper sauce to it. Pasta with three cheeses. Fabulous. Eggplant casserole, no meat, and it is excellent. Various salad things. Or I can whip up some scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. For you, Mister Spock, after some quick research I can offer Mizith with vegetables on the side. Or you can eat the eggplant casserole."
"Give me a bit of everything, Tan. I'm starved."
"You got it, Captain. And coffee? Commander?"
"I am honoured that you researched my dietary requirements. I will try your eggplant dish, and a helping of Mizith with vegetables. A fruit drink would be appropriate."
"Coming up. Have a seat, I'll bring it."
"Skip the coffee, Tan. I'm going to bed after I eat. Milk, or tea."
"Can do."
Kirk led Spock to a small vacant table and flopped into a chair. "Mizith? What is it, anyway?"
"On Vulcan it is a very substantial dish of salted, bitter pickled leafy vegetables combined with a grain similar to your bulgar wheat and garnished with a hot condiment. Off of Vulcan it is usually made with kim chee and bulgar. Either way, it is a very common and very healthy and welcome meal. The vegetable garnish is optional, and normally includes three or four specimens of in-season produce, lightly steamed, to offset the spicy nature of the main dish."
"Huh. Sounds like one of my favourite Earth meals. Korean. Barbecued meats with kim chee and noodles, but without the barbecue part. May I try yours?"
"I would not recommend it, sir. If your cook has properly researched Vulcan food, I believe you will find it too hot for your comfort. Vulcan taste buds are markedly less sensitive than human ones."
Kirk cocked his head. "You mean, there is one thing Humans do better than Vulcans, even something as mundane as taste our food?"
A puzzled look, just a cant of the eyebrows, came over Spock's face. "Sir, have I in any way implied that Vulcans are superior to Humans?"
"Huh? No, of course you haven't. I'm afraid I was teasing you again, it's a habit of mine." Kirk thought about Spock for a moment, of the work he'd done in the last 12 hours without stopping. Of his complete lack of reaction to Kirk's asides, the ones he always used to establish easy-going communications with his shipmates. "Look Spock, if I say something that seems thoughtless or stupid to you, just ask me what the hell I mean. You're my first Vulcan shipmate, and I want us to work well together even if it is only for a week or so. Perhaps you can teach me how to communicate with a Vulcan well enough that the next time I run into one, I won't piss him off. Oh, wow, this smells great, thanks, Tan!"
"Welcome, Captain. Enjoy. Commander, it's real Mizith relish, from Vulcan, and god only knows why it was in the freezer, but I'm afraid I had to use cracked bulgar wheat."
"It appears perfectly satisfactory, Mister Tangelino."
"Good. Well then." Tangelino blinked, grinned at Kirk, and left them to their food.
"Captain, I admit to some confusion. It is not your place to change your speech patterns or social interactions to accommodate me. I believe we are working well together. As a Vulcan, I am not subject to emotion in the way that Humans are. What, exactly, am I doing that caused you to think you might be... pissing me off?"
Kirk burst out laughing, and heads turned at the other table to smile at them. "Mister Spock, you are a breath of fresh air. I only meant, I... hell, I'm too tired to know what I meant. Eat up, you don't need to get any thinner."
"I am aware of that."
"Good. Then eat."
***
Kirk's exhaustion pulled him into deep sleep the instant he lay down, and when his alarm sounded six hours later he was extremely confused. He'd dreamt that the Excalibur had been attacked, and he was in command? No, that was real. He'd dreamt that Spock...
Oops. Best not go there. Unemotional, logical Vulcans were definitely inappropriate subjects for erotic dreams.
Or, perhaps, as the unobtainable, they were the perfect subject. Kirk chuckled to himself as he rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. Imagine having sex with a Vulcan. 'You appear to be sufficiently lubricated. I prefer a penetration rate of one stroke per second. Does that accord with your preferences?' The idea was so funny that he had to hold the wall of the sonic shower for a moment, just to keep his balance. Minutes later, in a clean uniform, he faced the computer core repair with a light and cheerful state of mind.
Spock was already at work, in a clean uniform but otherwise unchanged from the previous night. He did look up as Kirk entered, surveyed him head to toe, and nodded. "May I assume that you have eaten breakfast?"
"You may not. I was hoping that you would join me."
Spock's face didn't change, but somehow Kirk knew he had surprised his first officer. Did no one on Enterprise socialize with this man? "I am, in fact, due for a meal break," he said, rising from his chair and tapping the terminal into 'rest' mode.
"Good. Let's eat. Did you get any sleep?"
"I meditated for 37 minutes, which was sufficient rest. I project that I will require 3 hours of sleep in approximately fifteen point seven hours."
"You're a precise man, Mister Spock," Kirk replied, controlling his face with an effort as he recalled his silly fantasy about penetration rates. Looking at Spock again, he realized that he had every reason to have sexual fantasies about him. The man was very handsome, well built, and had a wonderful reserve that fascinated Kirk. "I have a few questions about Vulcan that I'm hoping you'll answer for me."
"I shall endeavour to do so, Captain, if the questions are within the limits of our rather strict privacy customs," Spock replied, falling into step with him in the corridor. "Vulcan, as a telepathic community, is a culture that demands certain restrictions on the exchange of information."
"I find that a bit strange, from the people that invented IDIC."
"Never the less."
"Well, my first question is an easy one. Are all Vulcans endowed with this amazing internal clock?"
Kirk managed to extract a great deal of information from his temporary first officer over the course of the next few hours, and he inferred more from the things Spock was reticent about. It seemed, to him, that Spock was living in a hell created by the vauntedly advanced Vulcan culture. Reading between the lines, Kirk surmised that, as a hybrid, Spock had suffered the kind of prejudicial treatment on Vulcan that was illegal on Earth, grounds for restitution in any jurisdiction of the Federation. Except, apparently, Vulcan. Simple phrases 'of course, as a half-Vulcan, I was not expected to pass my Khas-Wan' and 'I was to be married, but my intended bride did not wish to bond with me and chose a full-blood instead' and 'my father and I have not spoken in years, as I went against custom to join Star Fleet' made Kirk's blood boil.
"Vulcan sounds a particularly rigid place." He snapped, finally, angered for the beautiful, intelligent man. But Spock merely nodded.
"That is correct. That rigidity has resulted in the most advanced intellectual society in the Federation, in accordance with the teachings of Surak."
Kirk threw down his tools and glared at Spock. "But Spock! You claim Vulcan as your home, and they treat you like shit!"
Spock actually reared back in his chair. "I beg your pardon, Captain, but that is an extremely offensive remark."
Kirk snorted and turned back to the RAM exchange node that he'd been working on, closing up the panel door. "I didn't think a Vulcan could be offended, from what you've been telling me. If you could, you would have been offended years ago by their treatment of you."
"My people's culture..."
"Have you spent any time investigating your other side, Spock? Human culture?"
"I function as a Vulcan."
"And one day, I expect, you will malfunction as a Vulcan. Humans have some traits that might prove useful to you, Mister Spock." Kirk pressed his hands to his back and stretched his spine, and his ribs screamed in fury. "Damn! That was dumb."
"Your ribs distress you?"
"Among other things." Kirk turned back to Spock and smiled. "I withdraw my offensive remark, and would like to point out that it has been fourteen and a half hours since you said you needed sleep in fifteen point seven hours. It is a Human custom to unwind before sleep. Can I interest you in a game of chess? Do you play?"
"I do. Though I do not feel the need to 'unwind'."
"Well, help your brevet Captain unwind, would you? I have a flat board and a three-d board in my quarters. Then we'll both get some sleep and finish fixing this bitch tomorrow."
"Bitch?"
"Never mind, Mister Spock. Down tools and march, my quarters. Ka-peesh?"
"Very well, sir." Spock rose gracefully from the terminal and clasped his hands behind his back. "Although I trust you do not require me to actually march?"
Kirk burst out laughing. "No, I don't," he managed. "A nice stroll will do. Damn, I wish I had some brandy or something, I'm wired tight tonight." He strode out with Spock, shoulder to shoulder.
"I need to visit my quarters, Captain, and will join you immediately afterwards for chess. Is that acceptable?"
"Eminently. Simms!" The engineer was striding toward them, her hands filled with padds. "What's up?"
"We lost the commlink to the mainframe, the whole damned ship, actually, thanks to Jurrashni's dismantling the main comm panel in engineering for some wiring repairs. All these need your signature, Captain."
"Oh, damn! Spock..."
"Perhaps I can assist by reviewing the padds and ascertaining the correctness of the reports with you, Captain. That is, after all, part of the duty of a first officer."
"An excellent suggestion, Mister Spock. C'mon, Eloise, my quarters please. Geez, this Captain could really use a yeoman. Sorry about the chess game, Spock."
"Another night, Captain."
***
Kirk worked through the next two days like a man possessed. Finally in charge of a ship, the broken and barren nature of Excalibur felt like an affront. He and Spock got the mainframe back online, and then saw to the sad task of identifying all of the bodies on the hangar deck and composing letters to the families. Meanwhile, engineering worked full bore, and even got sickbay functioning again, much to the relief of Kirk's ribs. Slowly the ship came back to life. At the end of the fourth day, Spock at his side, Kirk left the mess and walked back to his quarters.
"We should be able to move this... hulking excuse for a starship within a day or so, Mister Spock," he reflected, "and you and I still have a chess game pending. Feel up to a challenge?"
As always, Spock's face didn't change, but Kirk could somehow sense his amusement. "I doubt I will find it much of a challenge, Captain. I have held a FIDE rating of 1500 since I last entered a Human tournament, twelve point four seven years ago."
"Oh, so you think I'll be a walk-over?"
"Walk-over?"
"An easy defeat, Mister Spock."
"I simply state that I hold a Master's rating, Captain. I know that many Humans react negatively to the emotion of 'humiliation'."
The belly-laugh that erupted from Kirk made him stagger in the hall. "Mister Spock, your arrogance is refreshingly innocent. I need a shower and a change of clothes. Chess, my quarters, fifteen minutes. That's an order."
"Yes, sir."
***
Kirk showered and pulled on a pair of sweat-pants. Simms had managed to get the water flowing again, and he was delighted that, as captain, he was fully entitled to a water shower whenever he wanted one. When he answered his door he was still towelling his hair, and Spock raised an eyebrow. "Do you require more time?"
"Naw, come in. Make yourself at home. What is that?" He aimed an elbow at the bag Spock was carrying.
"Scotch," Spock replied. "You might recall..."
"You brought scotch! Good lord, Spock, if it was within my purview I would get you a commendation for that! Where did you find it?"
"The chief engineer on Enterprise is a 'Scotsman', and was pleased to provide me with a bottle, at your request. He said, and I quote, "ach, he must be a lad indeed to ask for it, Spock," and insisted I inform you that it is an excellent single malt."
"I owe him, and you, a debt. Pour a couple of glasses, Spock, and don't give me any silliness about alcohol being illogical. If I'm going to handicap myself in our game by drinking, the only decent thing you can do is match me. Otherwise, it might well be a 'walk-over'."
"Very well, Captain."
"And call me Jim, would you? We're off duty, after all. It would make me more comfortable."
"Jim. Yes." Spock poured two glasses 3 centimetres deep, took one and sipped it, and both eyebrows climbed into his hairline. "Interesting."
A snort of laughter escaped Kirk. "Yes, it is, isn't it? Well, I was going to do the normal choosing, but as you're such a master of chess, perhaps you'd give me the advantage of letting me play white."
"That would be acceptable."
Kirk hid his grin and settled at the chessboard, moving a pawn and sipping his scotch. "Your move, Spock."
Half an hour later Spock was staring in absolute astonishment at the complete destruction of his forces, and Kirk was sighing happily. "Well, Spock, I guess that proves that even a Human can play chess."
"I do not understand. Your play was illogical and unplanned, or so it seemed, and yet..."
"And yet I wiped the board with you." Kirk laughed long and hard. "You assumed that I was a dilettante, Spock. My own FIDE rating is in the high 1500's, and I haven't been beaten in the last 10 years."
The look on Spock's face was pure outrage, artfully schooled into mild Vulcan shock, two slightly elevated eyebrows. "You did not tell me, when I revealed my own rating."
"Naw. Why would I give up the element of surprise? Chess is 99 percent strategy, after all. Besides, now that you're prepared, I expect you'll whup my ass next time we play." He looked up at the wide black eyes, and his sexual fantasy came back. Perhaps it was the third helping of scotch, or pure mischief, but something moved him to ask, "Spock, do Vulcans, or perhaps I should say, do you, engage in sex outside of marriage?"
Spock became very still, returning Kirk's gaze. "Some Vulcans do."
"Do you, Spock?"
"Not with my captain, Captain. Or... shall I say, never before with a superior officer. I assume that is the root of your question."
"That was, indeed. However, I will only be your captain for another 35 hours or so. And superiority is a frame of mind, is it not, this far up the chain of command? I find you extremely attractive. I also do not subscribe to the notion that sexual relationships between co-workers are detrimental, so long as the two involved are reasonably adult about it, and absolute honesty is maintained."
This time Kirk began to despair that Spock would answer him, and a hot blush started on his face. "I didn't mean to corner you, Spock."
"You cannot, Captain. Jim. Vulcans cannot be 'cornered' nor intimidated." To Kirk's amazement Spock rose and crossed to his chair. Bent, picked up Kirk's left hand, and brushed a kiss across the knuckles. It was like a shock, the sudden sexual arousal arrowing from his fingers to his crotch and back.
"Spock."
"Hush." The next kiss brushed his hairline gently. "If you wish this, I am more than willing to participate."
"Such sweet words."
"Hush." The hot lips pressed against Kirk's, and he felt as if he were melting. He rose clumsily from his seat and pushed against Spock, feeling the hard arousal of his cock against his own.
Wordlessly he disengaged from the kiss and pulled Spock's shirt free from his pants. Taking the cue, Spock began to pull off his clothing, and Kirk, head spinning with lust, followed suit. In seconds he was naked, his cock bobbing against his belly, leading Spock to his bed. "I don't have any lube," he offered.
"Penetration is not necessary to enjoyment," Spock responded. "I wish to feel you."
"And I want to feel you," Kirk agreed. He sank onto the bed and pulled Spock after him. "Do you enjoy kissing? You seemed to..."
"Affirmative," Spock replied, his voice rumbling in Kirk's chest, then he lowered his head and opened Kirk's lips with his tongue. The last of Kirk's reservations vanished and he returned the kiss fervently, grinding his pelvis against Spock's, hands everywhere.
"Jim..."
"Spock?"
"There is... when Vulcans engage in sex, we like to share our physical sensations through a light mind-meld."
"I don't understand. No! Don't stop that!" The hand that had been teasing his nipples hesitated, and then moved away. "What? Did I do something wrong?"
"A mind-meld allows us to share our feelings, our mental and physical feelings. So that you can feel what I am feeling, and you can feel what I..."
"Christ!" Kirk interrupted. "That sounds fabulous. Do it. What do I do?"
"Just submit." The hand that had been teasing his nipples rested on his face. "My mind to your mind, James Kirk. My thoughts to your thoughts..."
"Oooooo my god... Spock!"
"Jim."
***
Kirk woke feeling like he ought to be singing. But alone. He sat up and looked around, to see Spock at the terminal beyond the barrier. "Spock! Good morning!"
Spock looked around and nodded. "Jim. Good morning. You have important reports to read and acknowledge. As I did."
Something in Spock's voice brought Jim out of bed and over to the terminal. "What's wrong, Spock?"
"I do not believe anything is wrong, Captain. Merely different. After all, change is the basis of entropy, the driving force of the universe. Captain Pike has resigned."
"What?!" Kirk punched keys, and read the first message. "Wow, he must have really lost his nerve over that M5 business."
"Yes. He has accepted a position as captain of the Republic, a training vessel stationed on Earth. I have been offered, and already declined, command of the Enterprise."
Kirk stood back and stared at Spock. "Are you crazy? That's a hell of an honour, Spock. The Fleet's flagship... you've certainly earned it."
"I have no wish to command. I have, instead, accepted the dual post of first officer and science officer under Enterprise's new commander."
"No wish to command?"
"No. I would not make a good commanding officer, though I am particularly well suited to being second-in-command. Command requires creative thinking, something that I am not skilled at. I think that their second choice of captain is a much more suitable one."
"Second choice. Who?"
"Read." Spock stood up and let Kirk take his seat at the terminal. Kirk paged through the messages, wishing again for a yeoman, until he found one with the subject "Kirk, James T., new orders." and opened it.
His mouth went dry, and his back stiffened. "Spock."
"Captain?"
"Spock. They're making me captain of the Enterprise."
"As they should."