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Chapter Text

Spock did not have time to sit on pet theories. As first officer and right-hand man to one of the most ambitious and famed captains in the Terran Empire, rest was a scarce commodity that was hard to come by even for a disciplined mind with a sound schedule. To occupy oneself with thoughts of the future was a luxury.

Imperial life was harsh, and Spock was observant enough to understand why. He had come to learn much about terrans over the years, perhaps made more acute by his unique dual heritage. Terrans, he knew, were many things. Vulcans were governed by emotional suppression, his father being a prime example of that. Klingons considered passionate emotions the core of their culture and personal drive. Terrans, however, with their short lives and dull senses, were above all, malleable. The far east philosophers of ancient times were correct - humanity indeed flowed like water. You could divert the river but not diminish its power. Even the mightiest and oldest of mountain dams caved to the will of the tide.

The harsh environment of the empire bred its finest soldiers, its draconian laws and limits kept its subjects ruthless and subordinate. Too much leisure and comfort lent its way to unorthodox thinking and rebellion. This was why even Spock was unable to see the short-sightedness of the empire. When his captain from a different universe gave him his parting words, it was as if he was given a new lens that corrected his blindness.

Spock was pulled from his thoughts by the soft sound of his comm. “Spock,” he answered.

“Report to my quarters, commander,” the captain ordered. Spock checked the time. It was their usual time for chess. The captain had made these weekly chess matches almost a rule by now. Spock suspected it was the captain's way of keeping his number one under watch and psychological scrutiny.

-

Kirk’s room was chilly as Spock stepped into the room. He estimated that the environmental controls were set to 18 degrees Celsius. Spock was under no illusions that the adjustment was unintentional. The captain was fully aware of his preferences for a warmer temperature - this was done on purpose to prevent him from getting too comfortable, as well as a subtle show of power. Acknowledging the change would not be prudent, so he settled in for the mind games.

In the middle of the room was a table set up for chess and two chairs. Being the captain, Kirk had more room in his quarters, enough for a second bed to be added to the room, no doubt designed to accommodate various bed warmers if needed. Upon entering the room, Kirk moved to sit in one of the chairs, and gestured for Spock to do the same in the one opposite. “Sit, Mr Spock.” Spock gave a quick nod and did as he was told.

“May I ask if there was something you wished to talk about, captain?” Spock asked.

“Yes, there is,” the captain answered. “But first, would you like to take the white, or should I?”

Spock turned the chess set around. “I will start after you,” he said smoothly. The games had started already, he knew. The captain gave him one of his characteristic smirks, and made his move.

“You always were one to be straightforward, weren’t you?” the captain grinned, looking straight into Spock’s eyes. It was an unsettling look, Spock had to admit. His Vulcan stoicism came in handy in games like these with the captain. “Some would call that rude. My mother certainly would have. You’re lucky I enjoy that about you.”

“I can only think of one thing of note in the past week, captain,” Spock chose to continue. “The recent incident with our alternate universe counterparts is what you wish to discuss, is it not?”

The captain moved a pawn. “Correct, Mr Spock. I wish to know what happened when I was gone.”

“I have already outlined the events in detail in my report, captain,” Spock arched a brow. “I fail to understand what information you hope to glean in this conversation that you cannot obtain from the report.”

Kirk narrowed his eyes. “My intentions are not for you to guess, commander. It would be more beneficial for you to simply answer my questions.”

Unfazed, Spock moved his rook up to the second level. “Understood captain. I apologize if I overstepped.”

“It is alright,” the captain replied. “I noted that you had remarked that my alternate self seemed to be more of a...pacifist. ‘An idealist that may have come from a peaceful timeline where different species work together in harmony under an interplanetary organization’ were your exact words?”

“Affirmative.”

The captain set his chess piece down. “You realize, Mr Spock, that what he represents is anathema to what the empire stands for?”

“I do.”

“What do you make of it?”

“Are you referring to his ideals or the man himself?” Spock levelled Kirk with a steady gaze.

“Don’t play smartass with me, commander,” The captain snapped. “Do you realize that you cannot put this into an official report? Are you asking for the imperial command to start sending their wretched section 31 agents onto my ship looking for stupid thought-contamination?”

Kirk’s fury was apparent in his features, the game forgotten. “I merely wished to fulfill my duty properly. Omitting that might have sounded like deception if anybody else knew.”

The captain snorted. “You Vulcans deceive by omission plenty.” Spock did not respond to that.

“See? Exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirk smirked, then frowned. “You will rewrite the report, Mr Spock, and leave out that unnecessary speculation of ideals in an alternate universe we need not care about. Am I understood?”

“Yes captain,” Spock nodded.

“However, I want to know everything. You would not have made the remark if not given cause. And from what I saw when I was stuck in their universe, your speculation may be right.”

“It is not speculation, Captain,” Spock said quietly. “Before your counterpart was returned to his own universe, he asked me to reconsider my role in this empire. He urged me to find another way.” Spock hesitated.

“And?” Kirk asked. His captain was smart enough to know that Spock was leaving out something.

“He told me that the empire would not last,” Spock said, barely a whisper.

The captain’s eyes widened and he shifted in his seat to lean on the back of the chair. After a second, he stared at Spock.

“You realize that,” Kirk uttered the words slowly, as if tasting each word before choosing to speak them out loud. “That line of speaking, thinking, is tantamount to treason against the empire.”

Spock paused but returned the stare. “I do.”

The captain let in a deep breath. “Do I have any reason to be concerned about...contamination, Mr Spock?”

“I am loyal to the empire, captain. My thoughts and actions do not betray.” Spock’s posture stiffened.

Seconds that stretched passed in the tense silence that followed.

“Dismissed, Mr Spock,” Kirk broke the tension softly.

Chapter Text

The next few days went by without hindrance. The Enterprise continued on her mission to explore and collect data on far flung areas of the empire and monitor galactic borders. If he was being honest with himself, Jim was beginning to feel bored.

“Maybe I should have signed up for a warship instead,” Jim remarked dryly to Bones and Spock over dinner, after a successful day of beaming science officers down to uninhabited planets and collecting rock samples.

“Absolutely not, Jim!” Bones exclaimed. “You get damaged enough on exploration missions, lord knows what the fuck kinda rest I’d be getting if you were on the frontline every day.”

“Aw Bones, I knew you loved me, but is this actual concern you’re showing for my health?” Jim laughed. Bones didn’t dignify him with an answer. “Of course, I suppose you’re required to. You don’t exactly have a choice do you?”

Jim grinned and picked up his knife from his plate, its metallic surface still smeared with the red juices of his steak. Jim looked at it thoughtfully for a moment then spoke. “If I died, you’d be the next to go too!” With a careless swing of his arm, he pressed the knife’s edge onto the skin of his doctor’s throat.

“Oh quit it,” Bones glared and removed his hand from his neck. He picked up a tablecloth and wiped the red stain from his skin. “That’s disgusting, Jim!”

“I actually found our recent expeditions quite fascinating, captain,” Spock interjected. “Our scans indicated the presence of glaciers beneath the topsoil on the second moon of the gas giant. I suspect that was the reason for the odd mountain formations and cracks in the earth.”

“Only a robot like you would find rocks fascinating, Spock,” Bones scoffed. “Hey, Jim, do you think Spock would pass the Turing test if we put him to it?”

“I’d hope so, seeing as he’s kind of my, y’know, first officer?” Jim replied through a mouth stuffed with meat.

“Command already uses artificial intelligence for advice,” Bones shrugged.

Spock turned to face the doctor. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t question my sentience at dinner, Dr McCoy.”

“Sounds like Siri here doesn’t have a mute option, Jim.”

“Shut it you two,” Jim looked at his padd. “Just received instructions from command to set a course for… Vulcan?” He looked up at his senior officers with a confused expression.

“Did you do something stupid Jim?” Bones asked in disbelief. “Why would they recall you so close to base at this time?” Spock was expressionless as usual, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a slight frown.

“After all my years of service and work, they choose to mistrust me?” Jim slammed his fork down in unsuppressed anger.

“I do whatever they ask for. I kill the empire’s enemies without fail. I destroyed planets and decimated entire species at their whims. I even killed-” he halted his tirade, suddenly quiet. Jim stood up, Spock and Bones following suit immediately. “I will return to the bridge now. Follow me, Mr Spock. Bones, order the yeoman to clean this up.”

Spock followed him out wordlessly as Jim stalked out of the senior officers’ dining room.

-

Spock and his captain stepped into the turbolift in silence, but as soon as the doors hissed shut, Kirk turned to face him. “Was it you, commander?” he demanded. “I thought I had made it clear that details of last weeks’ incident should be left out!”

“I followed your instructions, captain, as I always do,” Spock replied evenly. He knew not to provoke Kirk when he was in this state. The captain was prone to vicious and volatile moods. It was a part of his inherent dangerous nature, and Spock would prefer to avoid the agonizer booths.

The captain did not seem to be reassured at all. “Then why am I being recalled? Clearly command has seen reason to mistrust me!”

“Perhaps we should consider the possibility that Command merely wishes for an experienced and competent captain to complete an important mission on Vulcan,” Spock suggested. His captain was a vain, boastful man. A smattering of flattery never hurt, though he wasn’t sure how much it would work this time.

Kirk’s face shifted into a vaguely amused, but unimpressed expression. “Good try Spock. I love a good bootlicking as much as Pike used to, but that didn’t stop him from getting killed.” At that, the turbolift indicated it’s arrival at the bridge with the soft sound of its doors opening.

Spock stepped aside to allow the captain first entrance onto the bridge in deference to rank. At once the bridge crew stood and saluted them. Every son and daughter in the empire was taught to salute in the education centres. Kirk often liked to claim that he learned to salute before he learned to walk. Spock had no way of verifying or disproving the captain’s words, but even he, a human-vulcan hybrid with a then uncertain place in the empire knew the gesture before the age of four. A thump to the chest on the human heart for a fatal loyalty to the empire, followed by an arm swung forward for forging a glorious future.

“At ease, soldiers,” the captain acknowledged the crew with a crisp nod of his head. Lieutenant Sulu swiftly made his way back to his post on the navigation panel as Kirk took the chair.

“You’re just in time for a transmission from Starfleet Command, sir,” Lieutenant Uhura turned to face Kirk from her station. “Shall I patch it through?”

“Go ahead.”

A giant screen flickered to life before the crew to the severe, scarred face of Admiral Kirk. The captain stood and saluted her as his subordinates saluted him. “I trust you have received instructions to return to Vulcan?”

“Yes mother,” the younger Kirk answered.

“Good. I am here to deliver your mission details. I want you to investigate and interrogate a group of rebels on Vulcan. After obtaining their information, dispose of them.”

“Do the rats have a name?” the captain inquired.

“No. They split off fairly recently from the Vulcan resistance, and have not had time yet to reorganize themselves, which is why we need them neutralized quickly.”

“Why aren’t Vulcan’s ground agents on it? Why us?”

“Ground personnel are largely occupied at the moment.”

“Occupied? Is that it?” Kirk spat. “That’s a pretty pathetic excuse for recalling Enterprise, admiral. After all I’ve done for the empire, I never would’ve thought I’d be considered untrustworthy by you of all people!”

Admiral Kirk narrowed her eyes at her son. “Stop your temper tantrum this instant. You are not to question your superiors. Do your job, or there will be consequences.” At that, the transmission ended, and the captain sank back into his seat.

“You heard the admiral, Chekov. Set a course for Vulcan, warp seven,” he ordered. Spock noticed him tap his fingers on the controls lightly, brows furrowed, clearly still annoyed from the exchange with the admiral. Spock said nothing, as usual, and returned to his evening duties.