Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Kirk noticed, as he slowly drifted into consciousness, was that everything hurt. His head was throbbing, his mouth furry and dry, and as he tentatively adjusted his arm, there was a sharp pain in his shoulder, like he’d somehow pulled his deltoid.

The second thing he noticed: that he was naked, and whoever he had his arm slung around right now was similarly bare. ‘Spock…’, his tired brain reasons, because who else would it be?

Then he realises… the body is warm. And as he runs his fingers over their chest, he feels a sizeable breast and scales…

Not Spock.

His eyes fly open, and he leaps from the bed, a wave of nausea flowing through him at the sudden movement, but he manages to swallow it down for now. Standing at the foot of the bed, breathing heavily, he stares down at his companion; she raises her own head and regards him blearily a second, before giving him a seductive little smile, showing off her shiny, pointed teeth. Even in the low lighting he can tell she has blue skin, long dark hair and large black eyes that seemed to gaze straight into his pitiful soul.

It takes him a moment longer to recognise her: Princess Feronzi, of the planet Vallen. His people were supposed to be in talks with hers this weekend about providing weapons for the Federation…

Oh God, the council meetings… the dinner… then what…

She inclines her head slightly, still smiling, and that’s when he sees the large purple bruises on her neck and chest.

Markings that looked like they’d been left by someone’s mouth, human-looking bites littering her azure skin…

He feels the nausea rise up again, and this time he can’t keep it down. He runs to the bathroom, and only just reaches the toilet bowl, some of his vomit splashing onto the seat, brown, watery and disgustingly pungent. When he’s finally sure he has nothing left to bring up, he shakily pushes himself off the bathroom floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he did so, and makes his way towards the mirror.

He’s not sure what he’s hoping to see- maybe he was hoping for another body swap situation. That he hadn’t cheated on Spock, he was just in some other poor sod’s body, experiencing his very severe hangover.

But no, the man that stared back at him in the polished glass was unmistakeably James T. Kirk. His face was a strange mixture of flushed and green, cold sweat clinging to his forehead uncomfortably, eyes wild and bloodshot. His bottom lip has a cut, like it’d recently been bitten by a sharp pair of fangs, and as he grimaces, the wound opens up again, a droplet of blood dripping down his chin. His neck is sporting some deep purple bruising, along with some bite marks that had pierced the skin deeply in some places. He stares down between his legs, where he sees the dried remains of his own release splattered across his genitals and inner thighs. His thighs were also sporting some gnarly scratch marks, and when he turned around, he saw had some all the way up his back to match, fresh and bright red.

There was no doubt about it- he’d had sex last night. Wild, passionate sex with a stranger, an alien ambassador no less, on a diplomatic mission.

How typically James T. Kirk of him.

Tears pricking his eyes, he ignores the call from the bedroom as he gets the shower going, ready to wash away the evidence of his sin.

Chapter Text

Princess Feronzi isn’t in the room by the time he emerges again from the bathroom, a fact he was very much grateful for- he was not in the mood for a confrontation, not while he still felt so dreadful in body and soul, and with the next council meeting being in less than an hour…

Oh God, he was supposed to be giving a presentation, shit…

He hurriedly gets his formal uniform on, ignoring his body’s protests as he stretches out the uncomfortable fabric over his still tender cuts and bruises. He grimaces as he checks himself in the mirror: despite the high collar, his formal shirt only partially covered his neck and the cut on his lip was very obvious in this light, looking like some infected piercing.

He needed Bones.

He hurries down the corridor of the guest wing of the palace, praying he doesn’t run into any of his ensigns or lieutenants on the way- he wasn’t sure how many people knew about him and the princess, but he wanted to keep those numbers to a minimum if possible.

Thankfully, he sees no-one and as he pushes the intercom to Bone’s room, he can’t help but feel a little better at the sound of a familiar voice, even digitally distorted by the receiver.

He feels less good when Bones opens the door and gapes at the sight of him, his big blue eyes bugging out of his skull.

“Jesus, Jim! I know Vallens like it rough in bed, but this is ridiculous! Couldn’t you have told the princess to keep it below the neck?!”

Jim winces- clearly, he had not been very discrete last night if Bones knew about his shenanigans.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep that in mind for next time… healing, please!”, he says, trying to sound as flippant as he can, not wanting his friend to see how much he was truly freaking out.

Grumbling, Bones pulls him into his room and pulls out a dermo regenerator from his luggage, all set out on the bed, ready for them to vacate the premises after this morning’s meeting.

Oh God, he would have to see Spock when he got back. He could always tell when he was keeping something from him, he would have to…

“Jim! Earthling to Jim!”, Bones raises his voice, snapping his fingers in his face. “I said to get your shirt off, show me the extent of the damage…”

“Why?”, Jim frowns. “I just need you to heal what’s visible…”

“Look Jim, believe it or not, as a doctor, I do need to follow procedure. And that includes making sure my patients- especially my captain- are in tip-top shape before attending to their duties…”

“It’s not that bad…”

“Do you have any other cuts? Has the skin been broken anywhere else? We can’t risk an infection, especially where bodily fluids are involved…”

“Damn Bones, I swear you’re just trying to get me to take my shirt off!”, Jim tries to laugh, but even to his own ears, it sounds hollow.

“Jim.”, Bones says firmly, giving him his trademark scowl, a look that said ‘do what I say or get a hypospray to the face’.

Sighing, Jim pulls his formal shirt over his head, wincing as his bad shoulder gives him grief for it. Bones does his best to keep his face neutral, but he can tell he’s pretty shocked by some of the deeper scratches across his chest and abdomen. He quickly gets to work, starting with the neck and face and making his way down his body. Soon, the only evidence left of last night was freshly healed pink skin and tell-tale white scarring.

Bones hesitates as he reaches the top of his trousers, glancing up at Kirk with a mixture of embarrassment and sympathy.

“Is there… anything down there that needs attention, or…”

Kirk opens his mouth, then closes it again, choosing to just nod. He rolls his trousers down and shows Bones the bitemarks and scratches between his thighs. Bones, to his credit, doesn’t make any comment and quickly starts pressing the dermal regenerator on some of the worst spots.

Kirk just keeps his eyes on the ceiling light as he works, willing himself not to break down and cry then and there- trousers around his ankles, while his best friend was on his hands and knees between his legs.

Not a good look.

When he finally finishes, Jim quickly gets his clothes back on, turning away from Bones as he did so. It wasn’t like Bones had never seen him naked (they’d been roommates in the past, and he had to get a physical from him every month or so), but he’d never felt so exposed before.

He yelped as he felt something sharp and metal pierce his neck, spinning around to see Bones grinning at him sheepishly.

“Sorry Jimmy, I need to take a quick blood sample and I’ve been told these things hurt less when it’s a surprise…”

“Yeah, well, tell whoever told you that, it’s bullshit.’, Jim growls, rubbing the side of his neck. “What do you need my blood for anyway?”

“Gotta make sure you didn’t catch anything sexually transmitted from her highness last night… it’s probably fine, but better safe than sorry…”

Jim feels sick again at the mention of the princess, but Bones just thinks he’s worried about his STD result, giving him a supportive pat on the shoulder when the medical tricorder display come up ‘negative’.

“All good Jim! I just have to write this up on my PADD, submit it to the records, and I can declare you fit for duty…”

“Is that necessary Bones?”, Jim mutters, feeling sick again as he imagines his infidelity being official Starfleet medical records. “It was just… it was nothing really…”

“Sorry Jim, it’s official procedure. An alert goes out every time I use my medical equipment, and Starfleet will want a record made…”

“Right, right, of course… forget I said anything…”, Jim sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I’m just… embarrassed about the whole thing…”

To his surprise, Bones laughs.

“A little late to be embarrassed now, Jim! The way you and the princess were going at it last night, I was worried you were going to start having sex right in front of the whole party! Would’ve hated to make that report back to Starfleet…”

Jim wanted to vomit again right then and there- oh god, had he really been so blatant last night? In front of his own crewmen and the rest of the assembly? Had anyone made a report to the Enterprise already about his activities?

Did Spock already know?

“Hey, Jim… are you okay?”, Bones frowns at him, all mirth gone from his expression, only concern now. “It… really isn’t that big a deal, you know? The Vallen’s are a very… affectionate people, they’re the last species to judge people for promiscuity. If anything, you’ve probably gone up in their estimations…”

“I’m fine Bones!”, Jim exclaims, trying to plaster a smile on his face. “Just… really hungover, you know?

Bones nods in understanding.

“Yes… they were far too generous with the wine last night! I think I have a little something for that, just let me get the hypospray…”

Jim just nods and does his best to steady his breathing as Bones searches through his medical bag, full of self-loathing and disgust at himself.

But he had to make it through these morning’s talks- for the good of the galaxy, for his crew here and back on the Enterprise who were counting on him.

Spock…

Jim is almost grateful when Bones injects the hypospray directly into his neck, able to hide his tremor as a reaction to the pain.

Chapter Text

The talks had not gone well this morning- Kirk had trouble concentrating for the four hours they were seated around the large table and had to be poked several times by Bones when he failed to answer a question directed at him. Even though he had a script ready, he fumbled his way through his presentation, which seemed to faintly amuse the Vallens seated around him, including Princess Feronzi, who smiled sweetly at him the whole time, gazing over at him under fluttered lashes.

It only worsened his nerves.

When he was finally finished talking, he collapses next to Bones, who puts a hand on his shoulder and raises an eyebrow, as if to say ‘you okay?’. Jim tries to smile reassuringly, but judging by the look on the doctor’s face, it wasn’t convincing. He goes back to his notes and prays the rest of the talk goes by quicker.

His prayers aren’t answered.

Even though he knows physically, he is fully healed, he feels awful. He’s well aware of the feeling, having experienced it many time throughout his life, from his childhood on Taurus IV, to the recent deaths of Captain Pike and his own brother: despair. His eyes hurt to open, his head felt heavy and he could barely swallow water, his throat felt so closed up.

And he hadn’t even experienced the worst of it yet: the inevitable confrontation with Spock.

If you had told him at the beginning of the mission the stoic Vulcan would end up becoming the love of his life, he would’ve asked them how hard they hit their head. But here he was, head over heels with that beautiful man, as generous and loving as he was intelligent (though of course, that was a side of himself he kept reserved for their private time together, and occasionally his mother when she came to visit). After years of passionate but ultimately meaningless flings, here was James T Kirk, known for his reputation as a casanova, honest to god, hooked, shackled, trapped… by love.

He wanted to be with Spock for the rest of his mortal life, travelling across the galaxy, seeing new and exotic sights, growing old together…

He had thought he would never do anything to hurt him.

And yet here he was. Sat across from the woman he had slept with the other night, after drinking copious amounts of alcohol if the hangover was any indication. Had drinking really been all it took for him to betray Spock in one of the worst ways possible? He’d made regrettable decisions before, but never like this…

He’s brought out of his depressive musings when the chairman announces their meeting over and everyone rises from their seats, ready for the verdict. Kirk feels himself sweat profusely and Bones looks pretty worried himself: the talks had not gone well, he knew it, everyone knew it. He should’ve called in sick, let someone else handle it, why did he insist on attending when he knew he wasn’t up to it, stupid, stupid, stupid…

But then the princess makes her verdict, smiling at him brightly, showing off her sharp teeth once again. Kirk shivers but no memory of last night returns: whatever activities had taken place last night that had resulted in those damning markings across his body had been obliterated from his mind by fine Vallen wine.

He couldn’t tell if he was grateful or not.

The princess clears her throat:

“Thank you all for attending today: as we all know, this has been a long time coming and while Vallen has always done it’s best to stay… politically neutral…”

Not using their ample resources to help their sister planet from the clutches of evil slavers, all while reaping the benefits of cheap mass production was what she meant, but Kirk did not feel the need to voice that particular thought aloud.

“… we can no longer deny that war in the outer galaxies has affected trade routes through our own sector. Without worthy allies such as the Federation to aid us, our resources will dwindle, our people starve, our government fall into the hands of murderous dictators. And so I propose that the alliance go forward: our military resources in exchange for new trade routes through the Federation. All those in agreement say ‘aye’?”

All the Vallens around him say ‘aye’, though why they even bothered with pretending this was any kind of democracy, he couldn’t understand. It was a well-known fact that anyone who went against the wishes of the Vallen royal family were subsequently found the next day cut up into pieces, their ear lobes mailed to their loved ones as a warning.

“And, so… that brings today to a close then! Thank you everyone!”, she says, clapping her hands together, the rest of the room matching her applause with great gusto, including the Federation members who look at each other with relief. Kirk gives a weak clap himself, but he’s one of the first to stop, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Bones, who once again tries to catch his friend’s eye, but he just keeps staring straight ahead. One older Starfleet admiral, Henson, slaps him on the back, grinning like an idiot, his face flushed red.

The princess waves at people to stop and the room goes back to silence immediately. She smiles sweetly again, her eyes trained directly on Kirk, and he wishes he was anywhere else in the world right now, as he felt more and more heads turn his way.

“And of course, a special thank you to Captain James T Kirk, who without his invaluable input, this agreement would’ve never gone off the ground. Captain, I’ve heard tales of your many exploits across the galaxies and let me just say… they don’t do you justice.” She flutters her eyelashes again, her lips shining with gloss. “And I very much look forward to working with you.”

She gives a small giggle, and several others around Kirk give knowing chuckles, making his cheeks burn with fury and embarrassment. Admiral Henson waggles his eyebrows at him and winks, and Jim suddenly remembers how much he always disliked him.

At least now he could go back to his guest quarters and scream into a pillow for a good hour.

Chapter Text

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”, Kirk screams, not caring who can hear from outside his room anymore. He’d thought he’d gotten all his frustration out after punching the pillows until feathers started flying, but clearly that wasn’t the case. Here he was screaming like a mad man in his luxury accommodations, hating the room, hating the faint waft of perfume that still remained, hating himself…

That was when the intercom started buzzing, and Kirk felt himself freeze: what if it was her, coming to look for him?

But then Bone’s tired-sounding voice comes through the intercom, asking to be let in and Kirk feels his shoulders deflate in relief. Then he remembers he has to act like his whole world isn’t falling apart and he feels himself tense again.

He can’t pretend he isn’t in here, Bones can see the room is occupied from outside, so after splashing some cold water on his face to make it less red, he walks over and presses the release button on the door.

Bones wanders in, hands in his pockets and as the door closes behind him, he regards Kirk thoughtfully a moment before bluntly stating: “You look like shit Jim.”

“Jeez, really know how to compliment a guy Bones…”, Kirk rolls his eyes. “… cannot believe you’re still single…”

“Cut the crap Jim- you spent the whole meeting looking like you were sat on a sharpened spear, or you were about to upchuck your breakfast. Do you have any wounds left you were too embarrassed to show me? Because if that’s the case, you shouldn’t be, I’m a doctor, I’m beyond being embarrassed by the human body anymore. Disgusted, maybe…”

“It’s nothing like that Bones…”

“Then what then? The capsule I gave you should’ve cured your hangover and any lingering illnesses caused by mouth-to-mouth contact…”

“I’m just tired, okay Bones?”, Kirk snaps, folding his clothes into the small backpack he’d brought with him. “It’s been a long weekend…”

“You’re telling me…”, Bones mutters, rubbing his eyes. “I thought for sure we’d botched it back there, today was a mess and yesterday wasn’t much better. I’m telling you Kirk, I know it’s Starfleet’s orders, but I don’t like the idea of this alliance. This royal family is ready to stab us in the back as soon as something doesn’t go their way, which eventually will happen… anyway lets not get off the subject, we’re talking about you. You were a mess back there. I’ve never seen you like that, not even when you first started out…”

“You heard the princess, I got us this alliance, didn’t I?”, Kirk mutters, violently shoving the last of his toiletries into his bag. “Though granted I don’t think it was my public speaking skills that really impressed her…”

“Is that what this is about?”, Bones says, blinking at him. “Look Jim, I know the guys back there were having some fun at your expense, but all of us know you’re a hell of a captain- and you know I hate making your big head any bigger, so you know I’m not just blowing smoke up your behind…”

“Yes, well, I fucked up today, didn’t I? And she basically told the entire room I slept my way into this deal, which no one would be fucking surprised by would they?! Because that’s me, that’s what I’m known for, just a worthless fuck…”

His voice catches, almost like he forgets how to breathe for a moment, a sharp pain erupting up his arm. It takes Bones grabbing his hand for him to realise he’s accidentally picked up his razor blade-side, slicing his palm open. The doctor carefully makes him open his hand, and gingerly takes the instrument away. He guides him towards the bed, dermo regenerator already in hand as he sits him down.

As he heals him up again, Bones looks him in the eye, a concerned look on his face as he whispers softly:

“Jim… did something happen last night? Or this morning? I assumed it was just a rough hook-up or something, but if there's something else going on, I need to… I want to know…”

Kirk looks into his friend's big blue eyes and sighs heavily; he was too tired to pretend everything was alright anymore.

“It… shouldn't have happened Bones. I shouldn't have done it. I thought I'd changed, but I guess not…”

Bones frowns at him.

“I’m confused- are we still talking about you and the princess? I told you Jim, nobody’s judging you for that- she might have less than stellar political leanings, but she’s a very handsome woman. I don’t think any man would say no to…”

“I should’ve said no!”, Jim shouts, making Bones jump. Then, more quietly, barely above a whisper: “I should’ve said no… why didn’t I say no…?”

“Hey…”, Bones murmurs, sitting himself beside him, the bed dipping slightly. “… Jim, whatever’s going on, you know you can tell me, right? I won’t judge, whatever it is…”

Jim shudders, feeling his will completely slipping now, wanting nothing more than to grab Bones and sob into his chest, but he contains himself.

“Look Bones, I wish I could tell you but… it’s not just my secret to tell.”

“Secret?”, Bones says, raising an eyebrow. “What, did Starfleet give you special orders, an NDA or something?”

There it was, an easy out, and Bones would be under obligation not to probe any further.

But Jim doesn’t take it.

“No, nothing like that… it’s just… oh, fuck, shit, fuck!”, Jim rubs at his eyes, doing his best not to lose it completely, while Bones murmurs ‘language…’. “Maybe I should just tell you.”, he sighs. “It’s probably gonna come out someday regardless…”

“Tell me what?”, Bones asks, his face quizzical. Of course, he was under the impression there were no secrets between them.

How wrong he was.

“Well… it’s about Spock.”

“Hobgoblin?”, Bones frowns in confusion. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“Well me and Spock… we’ve been… we’ve been…”, Kirk shakes his head, why was this so hard? “… we’ve been seeing each other.”

There, there it was. And by the look on McCoy’s face, his confusion had not been fully resolved.

“Seeing him where? Here? Did he transport down?”

Kirk groans.

“No, Bones, I mean… we’re together!”

“Together? What, are you guys on a secret mission or something?”

Kirk holds his head in his hands, breathing in and out until he was a little calmer, before clarifying the situation for his very smart but very dim doctor friend.

“Leonard… listen. Me and Mr. Spock are in a romantic relationship together. We have been for a little while. And it’s… it’s been pretty serious. I’m… pretty sure I love him.”

Bones nods his head, but then suddenly stops, the full meaning of Kirk’s words finally sinking in. His face goes blank, then he frowns, his eyes widen, then the frown returns again.

Then he smiles, his crow’s feet crinkling as he points over at Jim:

“Captain, I believe you’re messing with me!”, he chortles. “That is… not very funny actually, I was actually really concerned about you, you bastard…”

“Dr McCoy.”, he snaps, not in the mood anymore for this game of misunderstanding. “I’m being deadly serious.”

At that, the smile disappears, his finger going back down. The man goes grey, greyer than Jim had ever seen him, and he’d basically seen him almost die before. Bones opens his mouth, but no sound comes out, so he closes it again. He hums to himself, twiddling his fingers for little while, his face contemplative and considering. Then, just as suddenly, the colour returns to his face in a rush, his eyes widen in horror, a sound that’s half choking, half quiet scream emerging from his throat.

Jim just rolls his eyes at him and reaches inside his bag to grab his spare wrap shirt. 

“I see you need a minute. I’ll go change into a shirt that doesn’t have blood stains on it… let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

**********************************************************************************

When Jim emerges from the bathroom, Bones still looks freaked out, but he seems to be a bit more in control of his breathing now. Jim sits across from him on the sofa, and puts his palms out:

“I assume you have questions?”

Bones nods, one eyebrow raised so high, it looked like it was in danger of getting lost in his hairline forever.

“So, you and hobgoblin…”

“Spock, yes.”

He nods again, eyebrow still very much raised.

“You and hobgoblin…”, he starts then trails off again, looking very disturbed.

Kirk sighs.

“Look Bones, if all you’re going to do is freak out over this, I suggest you leave my room. My nerves are fried enough as it is….”

“No, no, sorry Jim, it’s fine, it’s just… wow! It’s just I never imagined our first officer having any kind of sexual attraction to anything, never mind someone like you…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Jim scowls.

“Oh, I don’t mean anything bad by it! It’s just you’re so full of… passion. Emotion. The exact opposite of the hobgoblin really. Well, you both have your stubborn streaks, I’ll give you that... hey, do the ears not bother you? I met an attractive Vulcan girl once, but I could never get past the ears…”

“No, the ears do not bother me. Next question.”

“Right. Right. I guess it’s just…”, Bones shakes his head. “I never saw you being attracted to him either, he doesn’t exactly have anything in common with any of the women you’ve bedded in the past…”

“Yes, well, you don’t know my entire sexual history doctor…”

“And I am… very happy with keeping it that way, Captain.”, he says, raising a hand. “I feel like I know too much anyway…”

“Perhaps.”, Jim frowns, as a worrying thought occurs to him. “Bones, does the… sleeping with men thing… is that the part that freaks you out?”

Bones stares at him, incredulous.

“What do you take me for, Jim? No! It’s the sleeping with Spock specifically that freaks me out! Oh wait, oh god, I’m imagining it…”, he screws his eyes shut, head rocking side to side. “Why can’t I stop imagining it?!”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s very good…”

“Jim!”

The two men find themselves laughing uncontrollably, but then troubled expression returns to Jim’s face and McCoy makes himself stop laughing.

“So you and… Mr. Spock… how long has this been going on then?”

Jim shrugs nonchalantly, even though in reality he knew it accurate to the day.

“About a year I suppose…”

“A YEAR!”

Bones face has gone red again, and he starts pacing around the room.

“All this time… every mission, every spy, war criminal, creature we faced down… you two were together… how, how… how did no one notice…”

“We’ve been pretty discrete about it… I mean, there’s no official regulations against the first officer and captain having relations, but we didn’t want to risk accusations of favouritism or prioritising each other over the safety of our crew…”. Kirk rubs the back of his neck wearily. “And our quarters do share a bathroom, so it’s not like we have to sneak out to see each other outside of working hours...”

“Okay, fine, I get not telling the rest of the crew… but what about me Jim?! We’ve been friends for god knows how long, we’ve risked our lives for each other! Did you really think I couldn’t keep a secret?”

Jim sighs heavily.

“I’m sorry Bones, it’s just that… well, I didn’t even know if me and Spock were that serious for the first six months. Don’t get me wrong, I had strong feelings for him, but I wasn’t sure if it was requited or not- he’s a hard guy to get a read on. I thought for a while that maybe he just wanted casual sex, some stress relief with someone he could trust…”

“Please stop using the word ‘sex’ in relation to the hobgoblin- my stomach’s having a hard enough time as is.”

“… but then… he opened his mind to me, I saw how much he really cared and…”, Kirk felt an odd pain in his chest, an odd mixture of affection and pain, but he continued. “… and well, we’ve been going strong from there. And, if I’m being honest, I’ve kind of liked it being a secret. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure most of the crew would be accepting, but I kind of like not having anyone… comment on it. Just us enjoying our time together, you know? I mean, I was going to tell you eventually, but the right time just never seemed to come… plus I knew how you’d react.”

“You mean ‘well’?”, Bones mutters, shaking his head. “I’m not going to lie, you gave me a mini heart attack there Jim, but, well… as much as I rag on the Vulcan, he is a good guy- just don’t tell him I said that. And I guess I have noticed you’ve seemed… more relaxed this last year, but I just figured it was because the number of body-shifting imposters coming aboard the ship had rapidly decreased.”

“I mean, that did also help.”

“No kidding.”, Bones says, drumming his fingers thoughtfully before suddenly frowning again. “So wait… not that I really want to know, but since we’re on the subject… do you and hobgoblin have some kind of understanding? Like, does he let you step out occasionally?”

Swallowing a painful lump on his throat, Kirk shakes his head.

“But you hooked up with that Betazoid on our last shore leave…”

“I lied- Sulu noticed a hickey on my neck, and I had to think of an excuse.”

“And Doctor Katja?”

“She was trying to get away from some old creep, so we pretended we were on a date together.”

“That one warlord?”

“Everyone else just assumed I seduced her to escape captivity. I didn’t dissuade them otherwise. Besides, I don’t think she found men attractive- or humans. Maybe both.”

“Huh.”, Bones says, leaning back, his face considering before turning back to Jim. “And the princess?”

With those three words, Jim feels himself break completely- he collapses in on himself, hand over his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the sound of pathetic sobs permeating the room. Bones doesn’t say anything, just holds his friend until he’s able to speak again:

“… he’s going to hate me Bones, he won’t be able to help it. Vulcans… they basically mate for life. And I betrayed him, it’s going to break his heart…”

“Jim… clearly it was a mistake. You were… you were very drunk, I saw you. Clearly you were even more inebriated than I thought, I should’ve dragged you away when I saw you and her together…”

“How were you supposed to know, Bones?”, Jim sniffs, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes. “Not like it’s the first time you’ve seen me get pissed and go after the first pretty thing I see- hell, I know I’ve got a reputation, even amongst people who like me. Even Uhura has called me a whore over drinks before…”

“She was joking Jim- and even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t look down on you for sleeping around.”

“Yeah, well, she would definitely look down on me for cheating on Spock- damnit, if anything he deserves someone like her. Someone stable, reliable, has perfect pitch…”

“Jim.”, Bones admonishes him, aware his friend was about to go on a tangent. “Look, yes, Spock is a Vulcan, and their ideas on relationships from what I understand are fairly… stringent. But he cares about you- even I can see that. I didn’t spot the ‘boyfriend’ part, but there you go. And he understands humans can be… messy. Yes, maybe he’ll be mad, but show him how sorry you are, and I’m sure he’ll learn to forgive you. Maybe not immediately, but eventually.”

“Am I getting advice from a divorced man?”, Jim sniffs, trying to smile.

“You’ll be getting advice from a pissed off doctor if you don’t shut your yap.”, Bones snaps, doing his best to look stern but failing. He squeezes his shoulder: “Hey, do you want me to be the one to explain the situation to Spock? Let him have time to calm down before he talks to you?”

“No.”, Jim sighs, his hands clenched in his lap. “He needs to hear it from me- I owe him that much.”

Bones nods in understanding.

“Do you at least want me in the room with you? For back-up? Emotionally, I mean, I’m no good in a fight…”

“No, I’ll be fine Bones.”, Jim murmurs, putting his head back and closing his eyes. “My mess, I have to be the one to fix it… if there is any possibility of fixing it.”

Bones doesn’t say anything, just keeps his arm wrapped around Kirk until they both get a notification from the communicator that everyone needed to gather at the transporter in the next fifteen minutes.

Chapter Text

“Status report.”, Uhura says into her earpiece, logging into her notes. All staff stationed on the Enterprise were awaiting news on the talks, and she couldn’t keep them waiting any longer.

“All good ma’am!”, the voice of the young, enthusiastic ensign buzzes through the comm. “Alliance with the Vallens is secure, they agreed to the terms of our deal with no further caveats!”

“Oh, excellent!”, Uhura smiles, fingers working away on her pad. “I’m not going to lie I was worried there for a minute- yesterday’s update didn’t exactly inspire hope…”

“Yes, well, apparently the captain managed to turn things around today- or last night, if you believe the rumours about what him and the princess got up to…”

“Ensign!”, Uhura admonishes, though she can’t help smirking a little. Typical Kirk… “What have I told you about using this line for petty gossip?”

“Uh… sorry ma’am. It won’t happen again…”

“Better not. Now, I need some details for the official report. Tell me who was in the room when…”

Spock, who couldn’t help but listen in nearby with his keen Vulcan hearing, would’ve rolled his eyes if a Vulcan was capable of doing so. Why his t'hy'la let the rumours of him being a cad persist, despite his behaviour being that to the contrary, he would never know. He supposed it must amuse him in some way, or this was just yet another form of subterfuge to keep their bond a secret. Personally, he did not find it necessary, as the crew was mostly human and lacked imagination for the complexity of attraction: most assumed the Captain was strictly heterosexual, and had a preference for ‘damsels in distress’. No-one had ever thought to question this assumption , which suited Spock just fine- what him and the Captain had was private, and he would like to keep it that way for a little while longer.

He knew the Captain had not been looking forward to these talks: seeking alliance with the planet of Vallen had been on Starfleet’s orders, and he knew Jim had his misgivings about making deals with an undemocratically elected government, known to hoard wealth from their own people and engage in inhumane practices of torture against dissenters. However, Starfleet needed their weapons if they were going to stand any chance keeping war at bay in this sector of the galaxy, and the people of Vallen would suffer even further if trade routes were disrupted, mass starvation being an especially imminent threat. Him and Jim had looked at this problem from every single angle, but could not find an acceptable alternative solution that would sway Starfleet. Jim had still tried of course, but he had been, to use the human phrase ‘turned away with a flea in his ear’ and was told in no uncertain terms that if these talks with the Vallen royal family did not achieve the results they desired, they would assume he had chosen to deliberately sabotage these talks and have him disciplined.

Jim always tried to find his way out of an impossible situation, but he could still recognise a brick wall when he saw one and fell in line, to his own great shame. Spock had pointed out that the alliance could still greatly benefit the Vallen people, if the royal family were open to working with Starfleet on improving the general living and working conditions in their capital, but Jim had still been sceptical. Not that Spock could blame him- he’d travelled far and lived long enough to see many a tyrant that cared little for their subjects, beyond the material benefits they brought to their already vast supply of power.

Still though, they always had to have hope- Jim had always said as much, even in their darkest moments, when logic itself dictated they would never see another morning.

Jim had once said Spock almost made him believe in miracles, but he couldn’t help but consider the other way round might be more apt.

Uhura announces that the Captain, Dr McCoy and the rest of the Enterprise representatives are due in the transporter room any minute now. Spock leaves Lieutenant Sulu in charge of the brig and makes his way out to greet the landing party.

*****************************************************************************************************************************

It is immediately obvious to him that something is wrong- as Jim materialises in front of him, the look on his face is akin to a man awaiting his own painful execution. He tries to hide it as he addresses the small crowd gathered in front of him, a smile plastered across his face, and if Spock didn’t know him as well as he did, it might’ve been convincing.

Jim orders his men to go take a well-deserved rest, and as the rest of the party funnels out of the room, Spock approaches him, hands behind his back, ready for further orders. Jim glances up at him, his face melancholy, and if Dr McCoy was not present, he would have asked then and there what the matter was, but he could not risk seeming overly familiar right now. Dr McCoy was very much under the impression that he struggled to read human expressions, which to be fair was usually the case.

Jim was very much an exception.

“Captain, do you require rest now, or are you looking to return to your duties immediately? I would recommend rest, as I am well equipped mentally and physically to ensure the ship runs at its usual efficiency, until you are once again at your optimum…”

“I need rest Spock.”, Jim mutters quietly, and Spock is grateful for his answer- he knew it was impolite to say to humans, but he did look very tired, and Jim very often overstretched his limits. “If you wouldn’t mind running things for a little while, I would be grateful. Sulu can fill you in on our reports on the Vallen parliamentarians, and I’ll email you the meeting minutes- though I warn you, it does make for some dry reading.”

Spock can tell Jim is trying to sound jovial, but it doesn’t quite reach his voice, and there’s a crack there, like he’s trying to hold back some overwhelming emotion.

It was… worrying. And judging by the look on the doctor’s face, he was also worried.

Had something happened down on Vallen?

“Captain- if you have time later, I would like to go over some plans with you. I think if we can convince the Vallen government a higher average quality of life for the population would benefit their economy in the long-term, I think we can…”

“That sounds great Spock.”, he whispers softly, his eyes downcast. “When you’re done with your duties… please come find me. I also have something to go over with you…”

And with that, he hurries out of the room, not even glancing behind him like he usually would. Spock stares after him, tempted to run after his Captain and start demanding answers now, but he holds himself back. The Captain had given his orders and he had a duty to the Enterprise- they had promised each other their relationship would not interfere with their responsibilities as Captain and First Officer, and he wasn’t about to start going back on that promise now.

No matter how concerned he was.

“Dr. McCoy…”, he says, turning to the doctor. “Is Captain Kirk well? He has signs of sleep deprivation, and his fatigue suggests an insufficient number of calories ingested…”

“Besides a lack of sleep, he’s physically fine Spock.”, McCoy says, his usually sarcastic tone absent. It was rather perturbing. “As for the rest… well, I’m not a psychiatrist, but I’d say he’s pretty fragile right now. It’s been a long weekend.”

“Indeed?”, he says, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “May I ask….”

“It’s not mine to tell Spock- it’s Kirk’s. All I will say is… he really cares about you, you know? Just remember that. He’d do anything for you.”

Spock frowns at him, wondering what the purpose was in him stating the obvious- was this the doctor’s way of insinuating he knew or suspected something about his relationship with Jim?

“So, like I said… remember that. No matter what you hear. You two are a good team, so don’t let the petty things get in the way of that, alright?”

The doctor pats his shoulder, which is odd because he usually tries to avoid direct contact with him, ‘scared you’ll poke around the weirdest parts of my mind’ being his exact words. He walks away from the transporter room, leaving Spock to mull over what just happened.

Finding no satisfactory conclusion, he walks back towards the brig: maintaining the Enterprise was a far less complex puzzle than the rich tapestry that was human emotions, and Jim would let him know what was going on eventually.

Later, tonight. In private…

Chapter Text

Kirk had long forgone any attempt at rest, instead pacing the room frantically, trying to plan out how he was going to break the news to Spock:

I’m so sorry…

I made a mistake…

Please forgive me…

Don’t leave me…

I love you.

Groaning, he sits on the bed, head in his hands, wishing now he had some work to be getting on with. Anything to get his mind off his current predicament…

His arms wrapped around her scaly waist, claws brushing over his thigh…

He shudders- he shouldn’t be thinking of it. What was done was done, he couldn’t go back and change it now, no matter how much he wanted to.

Bones had seemed convinced Spock would forgive him, but didn’t Jim wasn’t so sure about that; he’d mind melded with him countless times, he now felt like he knew him completely, body and soul. And he knew he was one the few people in the universe Spock truly trusted.

And now here he was, about to become the love of his life’s biggest disappointment.

Lying was not an option- even if Spock wasn’t a touch telepath, this wasn’t something he could keep from him. This wasn’t something he could just bury deep, it would always be on his mind whenever he and Spock were together, hands brushing, lips touching, bodies moving together as one…

Jim shakes his head, groaning in frustration, the clock on the wall teasing him as the digits slowly moved towards the hour- Spock would be here soon, he was punctual, he always was. He looks sadly over at his personal chess table, at the sofa facing the television and at the bed.

How he wished tonight was just a normal meet up.

Just then, the door to their shared bathroom swishes open and in Spock walks, still in his science officer outfit, looking composed as always. His handsome features were set into a neutral expression, but there was something in the pointed stare that betrayed his true affection and concern for his wellbeing. Jim had changed into a clean shirt and some black jeans, but he still felt fairly unkempt compared to Spock right now: there was just something about feeling guilty that made your hair never sit quite right.

Spock raises an eyebrow at him as he takes in the room:

“Your bed is still made- have you not attempted to rest? I understand from Dr McCoy that you did not get a sufficient amount of sleep last night. And your suitcase is not yet unpacked- do you require assistance? You have missed the laundry collection today, but if we get up early tomorrow, we can drop it off on our way to…”

“Spock.”, Jim interrupts, his tone as measured as he can manage. He clasped his hands together, wringing his fingers, feeling sick but he powers through: “There is something… I have to tell you. And… it’s bad news. It’s terrible.” He gestures helplessly at the sofa. “Maybe you should sit down…”

“I prefer to stand. You know this. Unless you wish me to sit with you…”

“No, it’s fine. Just… do whatever you want. It doesn’t matter…”, Jim sighs, his eyes on the ceiling, unable to look at him, his eyes glassy.

Then he feels Spock walk towards him and he steps back, immediately wishing he hadn’t when he sees the subtle flash of shock and hurt flicker across the Vulcan’s face.

“Sorry, I… I’m feeling a little emotional right now, and I don’t want to end up accidentally telling you something through my thoughts that I should be man enough to say out loud…”

“I’d never invade your thoughts without your permission t’hy’la- that is not my people’s way.”

“Of course, I know that- but you’ve also said before you have a hard time not getting flashes around people with high states of emotion.”

“Just flashes- and it’s usually only a feeling, rather than any fully formed thoughts.” Spock regards him carefully, then continues: “Though I will say I do not need to read your mind to understand you are in a state of great distress t’hy’la. If you do not wish me to touch you right now, I will remain here. But just know, all you have to do is say the word, and I will hold you.”

Jim’s heart throbs with a strange mixture of love, despair, affection and utter self-loathing. He was making this so hard…

“Spock, just… listen, what I’m about to tell you may make you… hate me.”

A small crinkle forms between Spock’s eyebrows, his version of a frown.

“Not possible, t’hy’la.”

Jim flinches at the term of endearment, the guilt twisting his gut like his belly was full of venomous snakes- he did not deserve such sweet words being whispered to him, not anymore anyway.

“I… I would not make promises you can’t keep…”

“I never do.”

He sighs, running a hand through his sweaty hair, only growing more disgusted with himself.

Maybe it was best he just come out and say it.

“Spock, something happened this weekend… during the negotiations.”

He hesitates, glancing up at Spock, who nods at him to continue, hands clasped behind his back.

“Well…”, he sighs. Here he goes, he’ll just try not to completely fall apart in the meantime- the only thing worse than a cheater was a self-pitying one. “… I don’t know if you’ve heard anything already, but me and the princess…”

“I know, Captain.”

“You know?!”, Jim gasps incredulously. “How did you… did Bones tell you…?”

“No, I happened to overhear Lieutenant Uhura talking to an ensign about it on the transmitter. Rest assured Jim, I did not think for one minute there was any truth to this rumour- so if that is the reason for your distress, you have nothing to worry about.”

Jim’s body goes rigid, and he feels himself start to shake- of course Spock wouldn’t believe it, he always thought the best of him, had total faith in him.

He could not conceive of a world where Jim would violate that trust.

Spock reaches forward, arm outstretched, ready to comfort him, but Jim steps away again, against the wall now, arms wrapped around himself, still shaking profusely. Spock keeps his distance, but the concern on his face is evident.

“T’hy’la, what upsets you so…”

“Stop calling me that!”, Jim snaps, pathetic little tears falling down his face, his control completely gone now. “I do not… do not… deserve… to be called that…”

“Jim…”, Spock whispers, his harsh features softening. “Why would you say that?”

He shakes his head, holding back the sob that threatens to surface. Oh, if the crew could see him blubbering now… what a pathetic excuse for a captain.

“Spock… it isn’t… isn’t a rumour. It’s the truth. It’s the truth!”, he gasps out, only the wall behind him keeping him standing. “I… I had sex with her. Last night. I don’t know why I did it, I was probably drunk but I know that’s no excuse and I absolutely do not expect you to forgive me, but if you could… Spock, believe me it is the worst decision of my life, and if I could go back and change it I would, but I can’t! I truly love you Spock, and I don’t blame you if you hate me, but please… give me a chance to make up to you somehow. I… I can’t lose you. I know I don’t deserve you, but please just… just…”

Jim feels himself slide down the wall, all strength gone from his knees with the confession. This was it; this was how he lost the love of his life, his reason for continuing to fight on everyday despite the odds- all over a stupid, drunken, selfish decision.

The room was silent for a good minute, the only sound being the ship’s engines and his own heavy breathing. Finally, he allows himself to look up, and sees that Spock is now kneeling in front of him, at eye level. He sees no anger in his face, maybe a hint of sadness, but it wasn’t what Jim had been expecting. Of course, Vulcans were generally stoic by nature, but even they had their limits, and a disloyal partner should’ve been one of those limits. But there is little emotion in that face, and as Jim observes him he sees his eyes working in the way they often did when working on a complex problem, the small crease back between his eyebrows.

Another minute passes, and Jim has to be the one to break the silence:

“Spock, would you just… say something? Please?”

His words seem to break him out of his trance, his dark eyes slowly blinking at him.

“Jim… I do not understand.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to…”, Jim mutters, scratching at his own arm. “I don’t really understand it myself.”

“No, I mean, when you say… had sex, what do you mean?”

Jim stares at him.

“I… you mean, how did it happen?”

“I mean… was it consensual? She did not force you, did she?”

Ah, there he goes again, thinking the best of him.

“I’m sorry Spock, but no one forced me- I’d had a lot to drink, but that’s my only excuse. I’d love to tell you otherwise, but there were a dozen witnesses at the party who would tell you I was a willing participant.”

Spock frowns.

“Then I do not understand- why did you do it?”

Jim blinks at him.

“I… I was drunk. I don’t think I knew what I was doing…”

“You… think? You do not know?”

Jim shakes his head.

“I won’t lie to you Spock… most of last night is completely blank for me. Last thing I remember was finishing dinner, then… I woke up in bed with a splitting headache.”

And her…

He suppresses another shudder.

“So, yeah, I got black out drunk and slept with a stranger. Stupid, illogical decision, but I guess that’s just me all over…”

“T’hy’la, I do not believe you cheated on me.”

Jim stares at him, shocked both by the statement and the term of endearment.

“Spock, do you think I would make this up? Believe me, I wish this was a whole elaborate prank on my part, but that’s not the case…”

“Jim, I have just worked my way through a million simulations in my mind where you had the potential to engage with relations with Princess Feronzi- and I accounted for all external factors, such as intoxication, peer pressure or concussion. And in none of these simulations do you choose to engage in infidelity.”

Jim rolls his eyes.

“Really, Spock? None?”

“None, Jim.”, Spock confirms.

“Well… it’s nice you have such faith in me. But clearly it is not deserved.”

“It is not faith Jim. It is logic. I know you better than anyone in the universe, I have melded minds with you- you are not someone capable of infidelity, no matter how tempting the offer.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think…”, Jim mumbles into his knees.

“Do you really believe that Jim?”

His silence was all the answer Spock needed.

“I was drunk Spock…”

“Alcohol can only lower your inhibitions and make you act more impulsively- in simple terms, it makes you act on desires you wouldn’t usually act on because of social norms or anxiety. Did you secretly desire to sleep with another?”

“What? No!”

“Were you attracted to the princess?”

“No!”

“Well then…”

“Spock, I…”, Jim closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “You can’t ‘logic’ your way out of me cheating on you…”

“I am doing no such thing- I am only pointing out the improbability of such a thing occurring. And I will admit, I’m surprised your lack of memory doesn’t worry you more…”

“Yes, well, maybe it’s because I don’t want to remember being with that bitch, okay?!”, Jim snaps, then immediately folds when he sees the look on Spock’s face. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry, it’s just that I don’t understand why you believe in me so much… I don’t even think I didn’t do it, and the rest of the galaxy thinks I’m that kind of guy…”

“It is because they do not know you as I do.”

“Spock…”

“Jim, I…”, Spock shuffles closer, eyes on his hands. “You do not have to say yes, but I wish to mind meld with you. I will make sure the meld is completely one sided, so you do not experience the memories as I look through them. I understand if you see it as an invasion of privacy, but… I hope you will allow me. I… need to understand what happened last night.”

Jim gulps, trembling:

“You won’t like what you see.”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

It takes Jim a moment, but he relents, crawling over to Spock and allowing him to touch his face, feeling the tingle of the mind meld but having no visuals while Spock works away. It maybe only thirty seconds in the real world, but Jim knows Spock is probably looking at hours and hours of footage in his mind.

He can only hope he gets some clarity from this, and he is not irreversibly traumatising him.

When Spock finishes, his eyes fly open, his black pools staring into his brown ones.

“I do not understand.”

“Yes. You keep saying that.”

“No, I mean… I should be able to see all your memories, even if you yourself do not remember it at all- alcohol should have no effect. But there is nothing. Just… white.”

Jim frowns at him.

“So… what does that mean?”

Spock gazes at him with a dark stare, hand still clasped to his face, a comforting coolness emanating from his skin.

“I have a theory… but I am not certain. We need to pay Doctor McCoy a visit.”

Chapter Text

“You did not tell me of your injuries.”

“Huh?”, Jim turns his head towards Spock, confused. They were standing side by side in the turbolift, on their way to medbay, and this was the first thing he’d said since leaving their quarters. Spock was still facing forward, arms behind his back, looking every bit as professional as he usually did.

“The injuries you sustained from last night… I saw them in your memories.”

“Ah, right…”, Jim sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It didn’t seem important at the time… besides, Bones healed me up pretty quick…”

“Yes, I also saw that the doctor attended to you this morning.”, Spock says in a neutral tone, but there’s a tightness to his face and a slight clench of his fists that seemed to indicate some frustration or anger. Jim stares at him, wanting to ask what was wrong, but suddenly the lift stops and the doors swish open, and Spock walks out, at a pace quick enough Jim has to jog to keep up.

“Spock, hey Spock! Slow down a bit, will ya?!”

Spock slows his walking pace, but he is still not looking at Jim, staring straight ahead at the end of the corridor where Bone’s office is. When they finally reach their destination, Jim quickly takes Spock’s arm, stopping him as he’s about to press the button to open the door.

“Hey, before we go in… are you alright? You seemed kind of upset back there, in the lift.”

“I am fine, Captain.”, Spock replies, well trained at addressing him by his formal title when outside the safe space of their quarters. “It’s just that… please do not withhold any more information from me. You seem to be under the impression that downplaying what has happened is in some way charitable to me, but I assure you, it is not.”

“Spock, I…”, Jim shakes his head. “… it’s not that I was trying to keep anything from you. I … I was mainly upset about me betraying you. Nothing else seemed to matter in my mind.”

“Yes. I saw.”, Spock says quietly, his eyes subtly softening, expression vaguely sad. “I felt… your shame, your distress, your utter self-loathing… it pains me that you’d ever see yourself that way. Not that you haven’t been prone to bouts of self-flagellation in the past, but this time it felt… quite overwhelming.”

Jim’s face flushes at that- when he’d agreed to the mind meld, he knew Spock would have access to all his thoughts these past ten hours, that it would be hurtful for him… but actually seeing it affect him was a different thing entirely.

“Spock, I am so sorr…”

“Jim, you have nothing to be sorry for. I am merely explaining why I seem a little… agitated right now. Really, I am glad you trusted me enough to let me mind meld with you, especially after such traumatic circumstances.”

He squeezes his hand and Jim feels the tightness in his chest alleviate a little, his body lighter. He smiles despite himself, but it quickly falls, turning into a grimace:

“Spock, I… I know you’re convinced I did nothing wrong, but what if you found out I did actually cheat on you? Would you leave me? Because believe me, I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to you…”

“I am ninety-nine point nine percent certain you didn’t. But if we are dealing in hypotheticals… I would say that it would greatly upset me. However, I have seen how much you’d regret such a hypothetical act taking place… and I know the likelihood of such a thing occurring again would be negligible. It would affect many aspects of our relationship for certain, but it would be nothing we couldn’t learn to move past. Our bond is of upmost importance to me, t’hy’la- such a bond is not easily broken, and I am not someone who gives up easily.”

Jim stares at him, then glances around him to make sure the coast is clear. Satisfied, he brings his face forward and kisses Spock lightly on the lips, exhaling shallowly as he draws his head back again, his warm breath tickling Spock’s lips:

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”, he whispers, hooking his fingers around Spock’s in a Vulcan version of a kiss.

“Seventy-nine times Captain- eighty, if you count the time you were waking up from anaesthesia and were slightly delirious.”

Jim smiles softly.

“Yes, I think that does count…”

Holding his hand still, Spock presses the release button on the door.

**********************************************************************************

McCoy looks up from his paperwork, shocked to see both Spock and Jim entering his office, and doubly shocked when he sees them walking hand in hand, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.

“So… I can assume the talk went well?”, McCoy drawls, gesturing at their intertwined hands.

“Doctor, I know you took a blood sample from Jim this morning, when you were tending to his wounds.”, Spock speaks clearly and clinically, not bothering to respond to the doctor’s banal query. “Do you still have the sample?”

McCoy blinks at him, surprised by this line of questioning.

“Well… yes, of course, it’s protocol for me to keep them. But why…”

“I need you to run another test on the sample.”

“But I already checked…”

“Your tricorder only checked for viruses, bacteria and parasites- it was not designed to check for other substances, such as drugs.”

“Drugs?!”, Jim scoffs, his turn to interrupt him now. “Spock, I don’t know what kind of dinner you think this was, but it wasn’t the kind where people were doing cocaine in the bathroom stalls or anything…”

“I did not suggest your memory loss was due to you taking drugs recreationally Jim- I would’ve been able to locate them in your mind easily if that was the case. What I am talking about is a lot more sinister… a drug specifically designed specifically to remove painful memories and make them almost impossible to recover without an expert.”

“Spock, what are you…”, then it hits him. “Wait, you cannot be seriously suggesting…”

The look on Spock’s face said he very much was.

“Spock, what you are suggesting is… it’s ridiculous! This was a diplomatic dinner, not some seedy nightclub in the outer planes of the solar system. This sort of thing doesn’t… it didn’t happen. Bones!”, he exclaims, turning to his friend. “Tell him he’s being ridiculous!”

But Bones simply stared back at the two of them frozen, his face grey, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, like he’d just realised something horrifying. He closes his mouth, then opens it again to speak, his voice slightly trembling:

“I’ll… do the test. It shouldn’t take long, but I can’t guarantee we’ll get an accurate result- if you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting Spock, it’s not something that stays in the bloodstream for long…”

**********************************************************************************

Half an hour later, the three of them are still waiting on the result in medbay, Bones stood at the computer next to where the detector was working, and Spock and Jim sat on the couch together, Spock’s arm around Jim’s shoulder, stroking his hair at regular intervals. Bones shoots the odd glance over at the two of them, but Spock just gives him a cold stare, making him look back down at the computer monitor. Jim wants to ask what the problem is, but he doesn’t want to be the first one to break the silence either.

And so they all just sit there, waiting.

Suddenly, the computer starts beeping- Spock and Jim jump up from where they’re sitting and rush to huddle around the screen, whilst Bones starts scrolling through the results furiously, until he finally sees something that gives him pause, his eyes widening in horror:

“Oh, dear god… it’s like you said Spock, but somehow even worse… this goes beyond a simple amnesia pill…”

“Yes, I can see that doctor. If you could cross-reference with this please…”, Spock says coldly, handing him a piece of paper with a scientific looking name written down. Jim looking over his shoulder curiously, noting the way Bones’s eyes widen when he sees what’s written.

He starts typing furiously, and a minute later a result on the screen pops up: ‘MATCH’.

“Jesus…”, Bones whispers in horror. “… I haven’t seen a case of this since… well, maybe twenty, thirty years ago…”

“Seen what?”, Jim exclaims, looking back and forth between his friends. He stabs the piece of paper Spock had scrawled on. “What is this? I’ve never heard of it…”

“Not surprised you haven’t Jim…”, Bones sighs, shaking his head. “It’s both a highly illegal and highly rare substance- I’ve only dealt with one case of it myself, a young girl back on earth. God, it was awful…”

“Indeed.”, Spock nods, leaning over Bones so he can start printing the results. “The only reason I know of it is because of a mission early on in my career with the late Captain Pike- we accidentally came across a group of scientists in what was supposed to be an abandoned fortress. It turned out they were trying to manufacture mass amounts of the substance for profit and were kidnapping local villagers as test subjects- we were able to put a stop to it, but not before great damage was done.”

“So what is it then?”, Jim says, squinting at the screen. “Beutzogene? I don’t recognise its chemical structure at all…”

“It is a synthetic protein, created from microbes found on only one dwarf planet found only a few light years away from the Galactic Barrier- very rare and very difficult to obtain. It is also very difficult to manufacture- the slightest mistake can result in severe brain damage in the people who ingest it.” Spock pauses, looking over at Jim, a strange look on his face, before looking away again. “It is also extremely difficult to detect, as it is no longer traceable twelve hours after ingestion, making the window of discovery very narrow.”

“We were lucky we got a blood sample when we did Jim.”, McCoy interrupts, dabbing at his brow with a handkerchief. “A few more hours and it would’ve disappeared from your system completely…”

Spock has an annoyed look on his face at the doctor’s interruption but seems to hold his tongue for now. Jim is still staring at the screen, his mouth dry, his head swimming:

“Okay, got it, very rare, very dangerous, very difficult to trace… but what does it actually do?”

The two men in front of him look at each other, as if each were daring the other to answer. Finally, Bones is the one to speak, turning around in his chair, hands clasped together:

“Jim, I don’t know how to tell you this, but beutzogene is… well, it’s a date rape drug. Potentially one of the worst ones out there in fact.”

Jim stares at his friend, hearing the words his friend was saying but not quite understanding them. He looks over at Spock who is touching his arm, concern etched into his features.

If he had any food left in his stomach, he would be throwing up right now.

“I… I think I need to sit down a moment.”

Spock nods and leads him slowly back to he sofa, one hand around his shoulder, the other on the small of his back. Once he sits down, he rubs at his temples, his thoughts swirling and jumbled. Spock, who can very much sense his discomfort, continues to rub his back soothingly.

“Is it… are you sure?”, Jim asks, looking up at Bones. “That it’s not a mistake, I mean?”

Bones shakes his dead grimly.

“There’s no doubt about it Jim- that substance shouldn’t be found anywhere on the ship, never mind in your blood. It doesn’t exactly occur naturally in nature.”

“Right.”, Jim whispers, closing his eyes a moment. “And… what are the exact effects of the drug? When it works correctly I mean?”

Bones hesitates a moment, but then he sees Spock give him a nod to go on:

“Well… it greatly increases the feeling of arousal and sexual desire in most humanoid beings, but it doesn’t just stop there- it completely shuts off the part of the brain responsible for cognitive reasoning for a few hours, leaving the subject in a fairly… animalistic state. Basically, all they care about is ‘getting off’ so to speak. It usually takes the subject about an hour for the drug to take hold completely, though less than five minutes to notice notable changes in their behaviour. It also puts them into a semi-hypnotic state, very susceptible to following directions they wouldn’t agree to otherwise.” Bones glances over at Jim, a strangely guilty look on his face. “So the drug takes effect for a few hours, until the… person finally collapses from exhaustion. And as they sleep, the brain rewires itself, so the entire ordeal is stored in a brain as essentially a repressed memory- very difficult to locate unless you know what to look for, even for trained telepaths. Finally, the after effects of beutzogene are near identical to that of a bad hangover, so it is rarely correctly reported before the drug leaves the body completely…”

Jim was listening intently, his body clenched, teeth grinding together.

No, this couldn’t have happened to him, this didn’t happen to him.

But it fit too well…

Her claws against his skin, his mouth against her shoulder…

He feels himself keel forward, but his vision and sound are out of sync. He’s aware of Spock grabbing him, the two men speaking to him, but it’s like everything is underwater, muffled.

He breathes in and out slowly, until his vision is sharper, more focussed, head between his legs.

“T’hy’la…”, Spock whispers worriedly, hand against his pulse. “Have you eaten today?”

He shakes his head, still bending forward.

“You need some food down you Jim… you’re gonna keep fainting otherwise. The canteen should still be open, but I think I should prepare you a little concoction to make sure your salt and sugar levels are still good.”

“You do that doctor- I will put a dinner order in and ask it to be delivered to the Captain’s quarters.”, Spock says, rubbing Jim’s back one last time before standing up. He fixes the doctor with a hard stare. “I trust you will be able to look after him in the time it takes me to walk up and down the stairs?”

Bones gapes at him, his expression like he’d been slapped.

“Now you wait just a damn…”

“Only making sure doctor- see you soon.”, Spock retorts dismissively, before turning on his heel and walking out of the room, door swishing closed behind him.

The two men stare after him and then at each other, Bones’s face still flushed, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Hey…”, Jim whispers, extending his hand out. “… you know he doesn’t mean to be snappy, right? It’s just been a long…”

“I better go make that concoction I promised.”

And with that he also turns on his heel and makes his way towards the lab, Jim staring after him. Five minutes later he returns, needle in hand, his eyes suspiciously red and sore looking and sits himself beside him.

“Show me that arm Jim.”

Obediently, he rolls his sleeve up, only wincing slightly as the needle went in- by Bone’s standards he was being quite gentle.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”, Bones mutters, running a hand through his hair. “And I just want to say… Spock did mean to be snappy. He blames me for what happened, and I can’t blame him.”

“What?”, Jim stares at him, stunned. “How can you say that?”

“I should’ve known something was up after dinner- hell, I know you’re known to be a flirt, but I should’ve realised something was off. Even if I just thought you were drunk, I should’ve dragged you off her…”

“I’m a grown man Bones, you aren’t responsible for me- it was both our jobs to network, we couldn’t exactly be joined at the hip all night…”

“I saw the extent of your injuries that morning, I could see you were distressed, but I still didn’t put damn two and two together…”

“You’ve seen me in worse shape, Bones. And… we had a lot on our minds that weekend. Hell, I didn’t even think… I thought it was just rough sex…”

“I’m your doctor Jim! And your best friend! If anyone should’ve been able to spot the signs, it should’ve been me! And I failed…”, he groans, head in his hands. “I couldn’t spot what the hob… Spock spotted immediately. No wonder he’s pissed at me…”

“Bones, you said it yourself, this is a an extremely rare drug, and you had no way of knowing I didn’t… consent to what happened. It’s not like I told you I didn’t want it, and you didn’t even know I was dating Spock until this afternoon. And if he is blaming you for what happened, I won’t let him- I’ll tell him he’s being illogical.”

“Forget it, Jim.”, Bones mutters, waving his hand dismissively. “You should be concentrating on yourself, not my own self-pity…”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want my best friend blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. And to be clear…”, he wags his finger in front of Bones’s face. “… that is an order from your Captain.”

Bones gives him a weak smile, but it looks forced, and as he leans forward to put a hand on his shoulder, it is pretty obvious he’s on the edge of tears.

“Jim, are you gonna… are you going to be alright do you think?”

He sighs, leaning back in his seat, his thoughts still a flurry of confusion: relief he hadn’t betrayed Spock, that he hadn’t lost him, but now there was the unknown horror of those lost hours…

“I don’t know Bones- ask me again tomorrow?”

Chapter Text

The injection Bones gives him perks him up enough that he doesn’t require too much assistance from Spock as they make their way back to his captain’s quarters, only slightly swaying once in the turbolift. When they enter his room, he is immediately hit by good food smells, and he suddenly realises how hungry he is, after having absolutely no appetite otherwise all day. He sees their dinner already laid out on the table under clear glass bowls to keep them warm.

He feels his mouth water at the sight.

“Is that…”

“Your classic Earth dish: burger and fries, with a side salad. I recalled you having a craving for such a meal the other week, after you found the equivalent our synthesiser produced to be of insufficient quality. I put a request in with the kitchen to include cheese and condiments…”

 Spock is stopped short in his ramblings when Jim reaches up and kisses him, causing a bemused smile and one raised eyebrow.

“I love you.”

“I believe that is now eighty-one, sir.”

The two of them sit down to their meal, Kirk wolfishly chomping down on his fast food while Spock slowly spoons his own plomeek soup into his mouth, eventually relenting to Jim’s request to try ‘at least try one fry’. He chews slowly on the fried potato, and simply says ‘interesting’, which makes Jim laugh in a way he doesn’t quite understand, but loves to hear.

It was the first time he’d heard him laugh since his return to the ship.

Indeed, it could’ve been any other night, the two of them enjoying each other’s company away from the curious eyes of their crew.

But it wasn’t just any other night, and as the two of them finish their meals, Jim soaking up the last of his sauces with half a hamburger bun, a tension-filled silence fills the room, the ugly events of today and last night playing through their minds.

Eventually, Spock is the one to break the silence:

“Are you feeling better, t’hy’la?”

“Yes, thank you. A bit of grease keeps the fainting spells away!”, Jim smiles, but it quickly falls, his expression serious. “And… I think I feel well enough now to start making a plan… about how we deal with this situation. In a legal sense, I mean.”

Spock nods approvingly.

“Sounds most logical… however, if you are tired, we can easily work on a plan tomorrow. I don’t think the crew would begrudge you having a day off after working all weekend.”

“That’s thoughtful Spock, but no- I need to think this through now, or it’ll be on my mind all night.”

Spock nods again in understanding and immediately starts clearing the table of empty dishes while Jim gets his PADD ready to take notes, thankful he was married to fellow workaholic, aways ready to agree to a late night brainstorm session. Maybe Starfleet wouldn’t be overly enthusiastic about a captain and first officer being in a relationship, but they could never fault their work ethic or output.

Besides, maybe going over the events of today like it was just another case study might help him comes to terms with the events- if he pretended it was something that happened to someone else and not him.

“Okay…”, he mutters, starting to type away, his eyebrows scrunched. “… much as it might be a painful process, this needs to be reported- someone out there got access to a highly illegal and dangerous drug, and if they have access to one pill, they probably have more. Not to mention a supplier… so if we catch the perpetrator, we can potentially find the manufacturer and stop any further distribution.”

“Agreed, Captain. Although, I will say…”, Spock says, pointing him with a fixed stare. “… even if we were dealing with a more conventional narcotic, this would still need to be reported- you were assaulted, violated against your will. You have a right to justice, same as any other lifeform.”

“I know, Spock, it’s just…”, Jim sighs, tiredly rubbing his eyes. “... I know how played out cases like this can get, how they can drag on and on. If I didn’t have you, I don’t know if I’d have the will the go through with it, honestly…”

At this, Spock’s face softens, and he reaches across the table, pressing his finger against Jim’s, who presses back gratefully.

He continues:

“Now as for evidence… the results from my blood sample will be the key thing, along with McCoy’s medical report from that morning. As for when and how I was drugged…”, Jim pauses, looking over at Spock. “… the doctor said it had to be ingested, right? So it probably would’ve been something in my food or a drink I was given?”

“That seems most likely, yes.”

“Right…”, Jim says, closing his eyes. “And it doesn’t take that long for the drug to take effect… the last thing I remember was finishing my starter- awful soup by the way, no compliments to the chef. So maybe then? Or a little time after?”

“Perhaps.”, Spock considers. “I saw from your memories that the princess was sat across from you, so she had the means of slipping something into your drink when you weren’t looking… but that that is not the same as saying you explicitly saw her do it.”

“Yes… and it’s not like she couldn’t have got one of her many servants to mess with my food for her. Or hand me a drugged drink. So…”, Jim frowns, looking down at his pad. “… we have evidence I was definitely drugged…”

“… but no evidence of who did it. It was likely one of people in that room, but that narrows it down to a little over hundred.”

“Right…”, Jim sighs, setting the PADD down. “So… if we did report this, that would mean everyone at the party would have to be interviewed in some capacity.”

Spock nods.

“And one of our main suspects would be the princess regent- who may or may not have been aware I was under the influence. And if we were to accuse her of drugging me without sufficient proof…”

“… she would likely not be convicted. And if she felt sufficiently offended, might call off her planet’s alliance with the Federation…”

“… or use her power and influence to remove us from Starfleet.”

“Correct.”

“Right.”, Jim mutters, picking up his PADD again. “So, what I’m hearing is we need to be smart about this… so, what are our options?”

Spock straightens his back, eyebrows furrowed as his brain works away.

“Well, Captain, it would seem the solution to our problem lies in finding irrefutable proof of when and where this incident took place- and who the perpetrator was. It is best we solve this mystery as soon as possible, while the perpetrator is still under the impression you are oblivious to the fact any such crime has taken place. And it seems to me we have a few options for accomplishing such a task…”

“Hit me with them.”, Jim says, drawing a new line on the tablet.

“First option: we interview all Starfleet personnel who attended the dinner that night. Perhaps someone spotted something suspicious, but did not realise the nefarious intentions behind such actions at the time.”

“And how exactly would we go about asking them Spock?”, Jim asks, frowning. “If they saw anyone slip me something? Surely that would get people talking…”

“We can hold them to secrecy.”

 Jim shakes his head.

“I hear what you’re saying… but at the end of day these people work under me, and it’s their word against potentially the royal family. A defence lawyer could easily claim I strong armed them into making a false statement- I can’t put any of my crew through that. And if Bones didn’t see anything, who’s to say anyone else did? And besides…”, he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “… I don’t need the entire ship knowing my business… you and the doctor is enough.”

Spock tilts his head at him.

“You know no-one would judge you for this, don’t you Captain?”

“I don’t know…”, Jim shrugs, folding his arms together. “… I guess I don’t like the idea of something like this becoming yet more gossip fodder for the crew. Anyway, I’m not discounting this as an option, I just don’t find it ideal. What else you got?”

“Well…”, Spock murmurs, pressing his fingers together like he so often did in meeting briefings. “… if anyone was likely to see anything that night, it would’ve been the palace staff: the servants, guards and entertainers. If we could send someone in to infiltrate their ranks, and discretely question them…”

“That… sounds rather complicated Mr. Spock. Not to mention risky- if whoever we sent in was found out, they would be executed for treason and the alliance deal terminated. No- I am discounting that as an option. So, what’s the third option?”

“Third option?”, Spock says in a way that tries to sound innocuous, but it rings false for Jim.

“Yes, you said you had a few options- that usually means at least three.”

“It is… just a common colloquial.”

“Spock…”, he says, giving him a warning stare that said he knew he was bullshitting.

Spock sighs, looking down at his hands, his face troubled.

“It is not an option I would recommend- I would discount it.”

“That should be for me to decide, shouldn’t it? Shoot.”

“We don’t have guns Jim.”

“Quit pretending you don’t understand common Earth phrases- we’ve known each other four years now, and I’ve taught you well. So... what’s the third option?”

Spock looks up at him, his black eyes deep and penetrating, full of some kind of deep sadness.

“The third option would be… recovering your missing memories.”

Chapter Text

“My memories? I thought you and Bones said recovering them was nearly impossible.”

“Not impossible, just… extremely difficult. It would require us to bring an expert telepath in…”

“Aren’t you that?”

“An expert? No- we would need someone who has devoted their life to the craft. Recovering a repressed memory carries a great degree of risk for normal telepaths, since the subject’s brain will automatically put up its defences and see them as an invader, lashing out, and potentially lead to severe brain damage in both subject and telepath.”

“Jeez…”, Kirk breathes, drumming his fingers contemplatively. “Guess it was too much to hope you could sort out our little problem here and now… would it be difficult to obtain an expert?”

Spock shakes his head.

“Most law enforcement branches in this part of the galaxy have at least one in their ranks. As you can imagine, a telepath would greatly benefit most criminal investigations.”

“Well then…”, Jim grins. “… that sounds perfect then! We can request one when we make our report…”

“I would not recommend it Jim.”, Spock says gravely, reaching across the table and grasping his arm. “While I would rather this never have happened at all, it is preferable for your emotional and mental well-being that you do not remember what happened… that night.”

Jim grasps his arm back, his expression sober.

“I appreciate that, Spock, but I need to know… I had roughly ten hours of my life stolen from me, and I want… I need it back. No matter how unpleasant.”

But Spock just shakes his head profusely.

“I can understand why you feel that way ashayam, but you should really see it as a blessing…”

“A blessing?!”, Jim laughs bitterly.

“Forgive me, forgive me… that was worded poorly…”, Spock mutters, screwing his eyes shut. “… I am simply saying… that the only reason you have been able to function as well as you have today, is precisely because you don’t remember what transpired.”

Jim scowls at him, pulling his arm back.

“Spock, you’ve been in my mind, you’ve seen everything I’ve gone through over the years- I know trauma, I’ve lived it, I came out the other side. Don’t make me out to be some kind of innocent…”

Spock exhales sharply, rubbing at his temples.

“I’m not saying you haven’t experienced tragedy before Jim: I’m simply saying there’s no need to put yourself through unnecessary pain…”

“It’s not unnecessary. We’re trying to catch the person who did this to me.”

“We do not know that you even saw who drugged you. Recovering your memories could be for naught, and we have other options…”

“It’s our best shot.”

“I disagree.”

“Too bad.”, he says petulantly, raising his eyebrows, knowing he’s being petty but he can’t help it, he’s too goddamn tired.  “This happened to me, I get to choose how we deal with it.”

Spock glares at him, the skin on his fists tightening as they clench.

“Jim, do not be difficult…”

“I’m not being difficult! I just…”, he groans, grasping his head with his hands. “… you actually think me not knowing is a better option?! Even now, I’m going through the possibilities of what might’ve happened, if I don’t find out I’ll always wonder…”

“This curiosity will fade with time…”

“Curiosity?!”, Jim laughs, high-pitched and without any humour. “They messed with my mind, Spock! Made me think I did something I didn’t… all I want to do is take back what was rightfully mine, which in this case is my own damn memory! And if we catch the creep who did this to me, well, all the better!”

“And if we don’t Jim?”, Spock says through gritted teeth. “Then you are traumatised for no good reason, and I will spend the rest of my life feeling guilty over it. I…”, he closes his eyes, breathing in, then out, until he calms down a little, looking like his usual stoic self, but his neck muscles are still tense. “… I never should’ve told you, I know.”

“No, you should’ve.”, Jim whispers, his anger dissipating immediately, putting his hand back on Spock’s arm. “I… I need to know all my options Spock, I need to make my own decision on how I deal with… all this. I love you, but you’re not… responsible for me. I need your support, but you can’t make this decision for me.”

“Ashayam…”, Spock whispers, grasping at his fingers, stroking them gently. “Please, just… wait until morning. It’s all still very fresh, you’re not in any state to…”

“I won’t change my mind in the morning Spock.”, he says, shaking his head. “And I think you know that too. So… either you report what happened to the authorities and make the request for a telepath, or I will.”

Spock stares at him, hand still on his, eyes large and pleading, but Jim doesn’t budge, staring forward, stubborn and unblinking. The stand off goes on a while, until eventually Spock is the first one to relent, his shoulders deflating as he retracts his hand.

“Very well… but know you can change your mind at any point.”

“I won’t. But… thank you.”, Jim sighs, exhaling a deep breath. “I know… getting my memories back won’t be pleasant, but it is genuinely driving me mad not knowing what happened. I just want… closure.”

“It could potentially bring up more questions than it answers.”

“Then we’ll have to find the answers to those questions… Spock, I’m sorry, I’m not dropping this.”

“I know Jim.”, Spock says, picking up the PADD. “That is where my frustration lies… but I will do as you ask and make the request- we will hopefully hear something by morning.”

“Good.”, Jim says, nodding his head. “The sooner we can get moving on this the better. See if we can get the memory extraction done at the station- we can bring in McCoy’s evidence while we're at it. Jeez, it’s a good thing he took a blood sample this morning, otherwise we’d have nothing to go on…”

“It was you who went to him, Jim- Dr McCoy was just doing the bare minimum required of his profession.”

Spock speaks very neutrally and without emotion as he continues to type of the PADD, but his choice of words makes Jim raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know about bare minimum… technically speaking, he was supposed to be off duty with the talks this weekend. I guess he brought all his equipment because he expected me to get into trouble…”

He doesn’t respond, continuing to type, his expression unreadable but Jim got the distinct impression he was annoyed.

He remembered his talk with Bones earlier and considered not poking the bear (or Vulcan in this case). However, if there was anything he wasn’t known for, it was leaving well enough alone.

“Look, Spock, I… I had a chat with Bones before, and he seemed to be under the impression you were upset with him.”

“The doctor can think what he likes- it has no bearing on me.”, Spock replies coolly, not looking up from the screen as he continues to type.

“Right, well…”, Jim hesitates, but he continues on with his prying. “… he seemed to think that you… blamed him. For what happened to me.” He leans forward, tapping him on the arm. “Is there any truth to that?”

“Report has been sent- along with the request. Though I still think you should reconsider tomorrow.”, Spock announces, setting the PADD down, ignoring his query. “Nothing to do but wait now.”

“Spock- answer the question.”

“I don’t know why we are discussing the doctor right now- if he feels slighted by me, well, that is nothing new.”

“There’s a difference between this and gentle ribbing Spock. Quit being facetious.”

“I am treating this situation with no humour.”

“Spock…”

He turns his head away. “If the doctor feels like I am blaming him, perhaps it is his own guilt that speaks to him- I am not responsible for propping up his ego, unless you want me to lie and say I found his conduct as professional medical practitioner entirely satisfactory today…”

“So you do blame him.”

He doesn’t scowl exactly, but Jim can see his eye twitch a little.

“I did not say that. I am just… baffled, that he would see the state you were in this morning and not assume something had happened.”

“He’s seen me at my worst, Spock- believe me, I’ve come out worse from some one-night stands…”

“Regardless, your emotional distress was obvious.”

“Maybe to you, Spock, but to everyone else it just seemed like I was stressed about the talks and had a bad hangover.”

“He is not everyone Jim, he claims to be your friend- he should’ve spotted the signs.”

“Why? Spock, I didn’t even know what had happened to me…”

“He saw you acting out of character the night before and did nothing.”

“Spock, you’re not being fair.”

“I am only stating facts, Jim.”

“You’re being illogical.”

If a Vulcan was ever capable of looking offended, that is what he looked like right now. Still, Jim continues:

“Spock, I don’t need Bones or anyone else beating themselves up over what happened. The only person we should be assigning blame to right now is the son of a bitch who drugged me.”

“I am not blaming…”

“Yes, you are. And you know it. And I’m not saying Bones is blaming himself entirely because of you, but you’re not helping. I know you two have a complicated relationship, but surely you don’t want to make him feel like he’s responsible for what happened? Who does that help?”

Spock is silent for a while, his face unmoving, his body rigid. In the low lighting of the room, his pale face lit up by the galaxies outside their window, he almost looked like a beautiful statue, his face frozen in a subtly sorrowful expression, his breathing shallow and near non-existent. Eventually, the spell is broken, and he nods, his eyes downcast.

“You… are correct. I will apologise to Dr McCoy… tomorrow. It is late now…”

“Thanks.”, Jim smiles, brushing a hand across Spock’s face, making him shiver. “I know how hard it is for you to admit you might be wrong.”

“I believe that is your flaw.”

“Enough of the cheek, mister!”, he grins, flipping him off. “I’m still the Captain, after all!”

Spock doesn’t smile back, instead continuing to stare out the window, with the same sad expression on his face.

“I should have been there.”

Jim’s smile falls.

“Spock…”

“It was a diplomatic mission, both the Captain and First Officer should’ve been there.”

“We agreed you should stay behind, along with the rest of the senior officers. Both of us going would’ve been a security issue for the bridge, and the Vallens aren’t keen on Vulcans...”

“It was the wrong call, I should have been there, I should’ve…”, Spock takes another sharp intake of breath, doing his best not to let his emotions spill over. “I could’ve looked out for you, I could’ve stopped it.”

“You always said it was useless to deal in hypotheticals.”, Jim whispers, stroking his face once again. “We both know this is a risky job, we’re put in life threatening situations every other day…”

“But this was not supposed to be a dangerous mission! If I had been with you…”

“Spock, please, don’t do this to yourself…”

“How can I not t’hy’la?!”, Spock gasps, at his limit now, his usually immovable expression quivering. “How can I not…”

Jim quickly makes his way round the table and hugs him, his arms wrapping around the Vulcan’s large but slender frame. He can feel his heart in his side, thumping away so fast it was almost a continuous hum.

“Hey…”, he whispers, squeezing him tighter. “It’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

Spock sighs against him, standing himself up and taking Jim with him, still in embrace, his hands running up and down his back in continuous motions. He places his head in the crook of his neck and breathes in deeply, taking in his scent as Jim shivers in response.

“What I said before…”, Spock murmurs into his neck, his breath cool against his warm skin. “… about beutzogene being difficult to manufacture correctly… I was not exaggerating. I see the faces of those people on that unfortunate mission with Captain Pike, the ones used as test subjects… some brain dead, others stuck in a never-ending nightmare in their own mind. Most of my team struggled that day, seeing those people in such a wretched state. As a Vulcan, I was able to contain my emotions and do the work that was required of me. But then I imagine…”, Spock’s breath catches, his hand scrunching up the hem of Jim’s shirt “… I imagine you returning to me, your mind irrevocably broken, unable to remember anything about yourself, your sanity lost and I… I can’t stand it. And all for the sake of some sick individual’s twisted pleasure…”

“Spock.”, Jim whispers, turning his head to make him face him. “I’m here, I’m fine- you’ve seen my mind, you know I’m okay. Besides the usual, of course.”

“Yes. I know.”, Spock frowns, his eyes downcast. “But if you had not been… I don’t think I could’ve ever forgiven myself.”

“Hey, look at me, Spock.”, he says firmly, his boyfriend’s eyes looking up to meet his. “We’re not playing the blame game anymore. We’re both together, that’s all I need.”

Spock does not say anything for a moment, instead brushing his hand over his cheek, sending a tingly feeling down Jim’s spine as he picks up on the strong emotions internalised within him.

“I confess, t’hy’la, it is a strange thing…”, Spock murmurs, continuing to stroke his face. “… I spent so much of my early life struggling with my mixed heritage, doing my best to repress my emotions, wanting to not ostracized from the rest of my peers for appearing too human. I was never Vulcan enough for them. It wasn’t the main reason I chose to join Starfleet rather than the VSA, but I would be lying that the idea of a new start didn’t appeal to me. And while many of my colleagues found my stoicism to be a source of amusement, I found I did not mind. In fact, I welcomed it. Because for the first time in my life I was being treated like a full-blooded Vulcan- most wouldn’t know otherwise unless I chose to tell them. Which I didn’t.” Spock looks down, his cheeks now a darker shade of green. “I spent so much time learning and practicing the teachings of Surak by heart, wanting to truly embrace the Vulcan way. I never in my life wished I could be more human… until now.” He strokes Jim’s knuckles, and he can feel his sadness, his longing, seeping through. “I want to help you through this, but I worry my support will be insufficient. I know humans must process their emotions in a different way than a Vulcan would… that they must express them outwardly, embrace their illogical nature. I have… no experience with this. I only had my mother as an example growing up, but she was never exactly an overly emotional person by human standards- I’ve only seen her cry a few times in my life and once was when my father was potentially dying. I worry I will not know how to help you through this, that I will go about it wrong, that I will try to apply reason and logic where simple understanding is needed… I worry you deserve better than I am able to provide.”

Jim stares at him, shocked.

“How… how can you say that? Spock, you’ve dealt with this situation better than most humans I know- and even if that wasn’t the case, you’re my partner. The only thing you have to do is be here for me… and you do that by being you. Christ, I’ve been full of such awful dread all day, thinking I betrayed the most brilliant man I know. I… I thought you were going to leave me when you found out, that you would… hate me.” Jim bites down on his lip, his eyes stinging. “The thought alone… it was killing me. That I would lose you… that was the worst thing. As awful as it sounds, I did feel some kind of relief that it turns out I was forced into it…”

Spock’s face scrunches up.

“Please do not say that ashayam…”

“It’s the truth! Of course, I wish it never happened at all, but we don’t live in that world. We’re in this one, and right now, I’m telling the man I love, the half-human half-Vulcan man I love, that he is more than enough. He far surpasses enough, and if he still doesn’t believe it, I will spend the rest of life telling him that, until he’s forced to believe it.” He tilts his head up and kisses him on the lips, then rests his forehead against his, letting the warm feelings wash over him. He smiles. “I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re stuck with me- no backsies. That’s a human phrase for…”

Spock surges forward and captures his lips with his own, and Jim responds enthusiastically, mouth moving against his, hands moving up and down his back as he slowly pushes the taller man towards the bed. As Spock falls back into the sheets, Jim takes full advantage, crawling on top of him, placing his knee between Spock’s thighs and rhythmically rubbing against his crotch. He puts his hands either side of his face and starts sucking on his neck, savouring the taste as he bites down.  Spock gives an involuntary moan, his eyes wide open and pupils dilated, and Jim takes it up a notch by running his hands underneath his shirt…

“T’hy’la… Jim… wait!”, Spock gasps, grasping at his hands, pushing himself up onto his elbows, forcing Jim to sit up as well. He stares down at his partner, confused by the pause in the proceedings.

“What’s wrong? I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nothing of the sort, ashayam… it’s just…”, Spock hesitates a second, as if unsure whether he should continue. “… perhaps we shouldn’t be doing this tonight. At least, not all the way.”

“But why…”

Then it hits him.

“Oh. Because of… what happened…”, Jim whispers, feeling incredibly boneheaded.

Spock nods, his face grave.

“I… I know there is no right way to proceed in a situation like this, and I will not admit to having a lot of knowledge in this matter. But… you were put in a vulnerable situation, and it’s maybe too soon…”

“I understand why you think that way Spock, but … please.”, Jim says softly, leaning over him, his face inches from his. “I… thought I lost this today. That we’d never be together like this again…”

“T’hy’la…”, Spock whispers, hand gripping the back of his head. “… we will have thousands of nights together. And you know our bond goes beyond the physical…”

“I know that… but today scared me. I want to feel you, all of you, completely, body and soul. I… please.”, he screws his eyes shut, head lying across his chest. “If the only reason you don’t want to is because you’re scared you’ll… damage me in some way, please don’t. If you don’t want to, because all you can think about is… what happened right now, I understand- and I hope we can eventually move past it. I’d hate to think that’s all you saw when you looked at me from now on…”

“Jim, no…”, Spock tries to soothe him, running his hands through his hair. “I’m just… trying to do this right. I want you, but my desires cannot be prioritised over your wellbeing…”

“You said it yourself; there’s no way of doing this right- I just know that I want to feel you against me, touching every part of me. I…” Jim looks down, trying to blink back tears. “… I’ve told you what I want, it’s up to you. I’d hate to feel I guilted you into it.”

Spock stares at him a while, hands still in Jim’s hair, his expression conflicted. Then he pushes Jim’s head down and raises his own, meeting in a passionate kiss.

“We take this slowly…”, Spock whispers against his lips. “… you feel in any way uncomfortable, let me know and I will stop…”

“Meld your mind with me…”, Jim whispers back, intertwining their fingers. “… then you’ll know for sure…”

Spock nods, obliging him as he presses his forehead against his, one hand pressed against the side of his head. Jim feels himself float through consciousness, but then he was grounded again, and he feels everything the man before him feels, the uncertainty, the affection, the despair, the love…

He tackles him down again, and the two of them move against each other, hands working to remove clothes, mouths on skin, their minds one. Spock had said to take it slow, but Jim can't help it, he is a starving man- when he feels Spock's own desire come through the meld, he cannot help but feast.

When their bodies finally come together, their intertwined spirits glow like a pulsating star, a galaxy of ecstasy engulfing them…

For a while, they are in a universe entirely of their own.

**********************************************************************************

Hours later they lay together, both suitably fatigued, though Jim is still flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, while Spock’s slightly ruffled hair is the only evidence that any such vigorous activity has occurred. Jim is encased in Spock’s arms, his head lying on his chest, and as he inhales the scent of his lover, he smiles.

“Spock?”, he murmurs, wrapping his arms around his bare waist, enjoying the hum of pleasure he feels from the now rapidly fading meld.

“Yes, Jim?”, Spock answers back sleepily, his eyes half-closed.

“I think we’re going to be okay…”  

Chapter Text

6 Months Earlier

“Well, that was…”, Jim gasps as he falls back on the pillows, still breathless from Spock’s thorough ministrations. He wipes at his sweaty forehead, panting, floundering for some clever, witty line. “… that was… wow. Yeah.”

“Can I assume from your inability to form full sentences, that you quite enjoyed that position, Captain?”

Jim flicks his ear- damn cheeky Vulcan.

“You could say that Mr. Spock- god knows I needed the stress relief. It felt like that conference went on forever…”

Spock lies himself down next to him, clearly intent on staying the night this time.

“I will say I found the whole event quite agreeable- but I can’t say this isn’t much more preferable.”

“I’d damn well hope you preferred this! I’d be worried I’ve lost my touch otherwise…”, Jim grins at him. “But in all seriousness, I’m glad you had a good time tonight, I know you often don’t like these social gatherings.”

“True- but this one was full of some truly fascinating individuals. I look forward to looking them up and reading up on their research.”

“Hmmm…”, Jim murmurs into his pillow. “Yes, I barely saw you all night. Quite the social butterfly…”

He tries to keep his tone light, but in truth, he had really not enjoyed himself tonight and it was for a very selfish reason. Usually at these kinds of big shindigs, Spock had a tendency to stick to his side, often uncomfortable with the banal small talk or superfluous gossip. This time though, Starfleet had been gotten all their Science Officers together for a research conference and Spock had been in his element, comparing theories and findings, looking about as excited and animated as a Vulcan was able. Which, kind of just meant he spoke slightly faster, but still.

Jim should’ve been happy for him, but instead he found himself wistfully looking over his shoulder the whole time, watching Spock spout statistics like nobody’s business, people of all species regarding him with interest and admiration and…

Oh, who was he kidding, he was jealous. Like he had any right to be- his introverted friend had a good time socialising for one night, and he resented him for it?

Oh, who was he kidding, he was jealous for a different reason.

He’d known since the beginning that getting into a situationship with his Vulcan First Officer would be a bad idea- while his reputation with Starfleet and the crew would certainly take a dip if they found out their Captain was having relations with someone technically below him in rank, that wasn’t the main reason it was a bad idea. He didn’t quite remember when his feelings for his First Officer became quite so all consuming, but it was well before the time they shared their first messy makeout session in medbay. As his superior, he should’ve shut it down immediately after that- the first time they were both injured and feeling the aftereffects of sedatives, not quite right in the head.

The second, third and fourth time though…

What could he say? He was a weak man.

Him and Spock had been surprisingly good at keeping their situation under wraps for the most part- there had been a few close calls, but nothing major and most people assumed Jim was sleeping with half a dozen other people every week, so a mark on his neck, a shirt put on backwards here and there didn’t exactly raise much suspicion.

On paper, it seemed like a good situation: two good friends who found each other attractive, on a vessel where they didn’t have much time or opportunity to meet new people, giving each other a bit of release every other night (though he secretly wished it could be every night and that he stayed over more). Spock never exactly talked much about his feelings on the situationship, beyond exploring Jim’s own likes and dislikes in bed, but he got the sense Spock wasn’t ready for a long-term relationship after his disastrous engagement with T’Pring. However, he  still had certain needs and desires he couldn’t fulfil otherwise, and Jim was happy to satisfy that need.

At least, he had thought he was.

He seemed to feel sadder and guiltier the more and more he fell in love with Spock. He knew he should say something, let him know this had never really been casual for him and that it’d be best to terminate the situationship, but…

Well, then he thought about never getting to touch Spock that way again, and it hurt. A lot.

Damn him.

And so that is how he found himself all night, watching Spock chat to various attractive, intelligent aliens, not even noticing that Jim had been mainly sticking to the bar, nursing the same glass of whisky for three hours. He was too absorbed in watching Spock engaging with others to actually talk to people, and he felt like a real creep on the sidelines. He took particular note of a very attractive Vulcan woman, extremely severe looking but radiant, her neat red pixie cut contrasting beautifully with her ivory skin, slender but well proportioned. He managed to overhear that her name was T’Shile, and that she was a senior botanist on another Starfleet vessel. Spock and her had talked for a good half hour, clearly enjoying each other’s company as they spoke about plant life in their monotone Vulcan way.

“I saw you talking to Doctor T’Shile a long while…”, Jim tries to say casually, trying to get a read on Spock’s expression. “What did you guys talk about?”

“About her research on the crop yield of Genesis V mostly- she thinks they can release an insect that will greatly increase the rate of pollination across the planet, though it is too early in concept to give an accurate forecast on potential yield increase. She promised to send me her findings once the company has given official approval.”

“Sounds fascinating.”, Jim mumbles, peeking at him out of the corner of his eye. “And it must’ve been nice to meet someone from your home planet- especially such an attractive one.”

Spock frowns at him.

“I fail to see the relevance of her physical attractiveness to crop yields, Captain.”

“Eh, forget it… I was just teasing.”, Jim says, smiling. “Though I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you giving her a social call from time to time.”

“I think that would be difficult- she is assigned to Captain Perkin’s ship, and they are not allowed to make calls without it being approved by security first, due to the more classified nature of their missions.”

Ah, yes, Captain Perkins. Jim had seen him many times throughout the years, but he had never had more than a few conversations with the man. He’d never made much of an impression on him, beyond the fact he was strikingly handsome for an older gentleman. In fact, he’d mostly forgotten all about him until he’d spotted him today talking with Spock, speaking with great animation and passion about his own ship’s science department. Perkins, while a Starfleet Captain currently, had a PhD in physics, and that seemed to be where his passion still mainly lied. It occurred to Jim as he studied him over his glass that it wasn’t fair someone so genetically gifted in the looks department should also be ridiculously intelligent as well: ‘anyone that pretty should also be dumb as a bag of rocks- it’s the universe’s way of being fair’, as his ex-friend Gary Mitchell liked to say.

It then occurred to him why he had always felt uncomfortable in Perkin’s presence.

Men like that just reminded him of what he’d never look like.

He knew jealousy was not an attractive trait. He also knew that objectively speaking, he himself was not unattractive- after all, he’d been told many times to the contrary, with many of those admirers ending up in his bed (though not as often as people liked to think).

But, he also knew he had never reached his full potential physically.

Of course, modern medicine had worked wonders in his rehabilitation after Tarsus IV, but he knew there was still aspects of his appearance that had been forever affected by his stay there: growing up he had always been told he looked just like a younger version of his father and would one day also reach his six-four stature. But starvation during peak time of adolescence had stunted his growth, and while he was now of average height for a human male, he was often reminded of what had been taken from him when surrounded by many of his much taller Starfleet colleagues. Spock was not overly tall for a Vulcan, but he was still significantly taller than Jim, and while he knew it was not in his nature to diminish someone for having a smaller stature, he could not help but wonder if he ever saw him as less of a man for it.

And then there was his body: logically speaking, he knew he was in good shape thanks to his rigorous exercise routine and Bones forcing him to eat his greens and pulses. He could run for miles without getting fatigued, lift nearly one point five times his weight in a bench press and usually went toe-to-toe with Spock at wrestling (though he did suspect he sometimes let him win).

The problem was that there had always been a… softness about him. He knew he didn’t look as chiselled or lean as most of his fellow captains in Starfleet, even some of the older ones. He knew he wasn’t actually fat by any means, but he could not help but compare himself to men like Captain Perkins, who didn’t seem to carry so much an extra pound of unnecessary fat on his body, just sinewy muscle, wide shoulders, and a a strong jawline. He could not help but feel self-conscious about the softness around his own gut, the fleshiness of his face, the love handles on his hips, made all the worse by the unflattering uniform Starfleet made them wear.

He knew he shouldn’t care, that it was just vanity at the end of the day. Bones had explained to him many times that his time on Tarsus IV as an adolescent had greatly slowed his metabolism, that this was his body’s response to starvation, retaining as much fat residuals as it could to keep him alive, and that good diet and exercise would slowly bring it back to normal. He’d talked in the past with his therapist about his tendency to eat even when he was not really hungry, how he often craved rich, calorie dense meals, and that he always felt the need to finish his plate even when well past the point of full. He understood this was his mind still not coming to terms with the fact food was now always readily available, and that it wouldn’t be taken away at any moment.

He also understood his weight shouldn’t be a big issue, as long as he was healthy- but that didn’t stop him from looking at peak examples of manhood, like Captain Perkins, and wondering what could’ve been.

He also couldn’t help but look at Spock and Perkins and notice how good they looked together.

Of course Spock had never shown any displeasure with his body, always showing the fleshier, fatty parts as much care and attention as his firmer ones. But perhaps that was just his way of being polite- he was sure Spock was attracted to him, there was no logical reason to sleep with him otherwise, but he was also equally sure there were parts of him he found less attractive. Spock was a Vulcan after all, and he was pretty sure he’d never seen a fat Vulcan, so overindulgence must not be something they really approved of societally. And as he got older, and the weight got harder and harder to keep off, he would not be surprised if Spock traded him in for a more… attractive model.

After all, it was only logical.

“And you and Captain Perkins… you two seemed to be having a good conversation.”, he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but really he is studying his face closely.

“Yes- we were discussing recent breakthroughs in warp speed technology, how it could potentially reduce space travel time across our galaxy systems by approximately fifty-six point two percent. He seemed particularly interested in having the support of the Enterprise science facility, as we have the most Starfleet funding across all their vessels…”

“Hmmm…. sure he wasn’t trying to recruit you as science officer for his own ship?”, Jim murmurs, picking out a loose thread of the bedsheet. “I couldn’t blame him- Captain Pike always said the efficiency of the department went up by over two hundred percent when you came aboard…”

“Negative, Captain. From what I understand, him and his science officer are old colleagues and has no immediate plans on retiring any time soon. And I would not say yes if he did ask, I am most comfortable on the Enterprise.”

Such a neutral, banal statement shouldn’t have made Jim’s heart flutter so much, but here they were.

“Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you did say yes- he’s quite easy on the eyes, Perkins… not that I’m saying you sleep with all your commanding officers, Spock, I know you’re here entirely on your own merit.”, he smiles breezily at him, giving a small wink as he continues to run his hand through his chest hair.

Spock just frowns again, his eyebrows furrowed like he’s trying to solve a difficult formula.

“Captain…”

“Spock, could you just call me Jim when we’re like this? It feels… wrong, otherwise.”

“Of course, Jim. May I ask… why do you keep feeling to bring up other people’s attractiveness while we are in bed together? I feel like you are trying to imply something but I’m not sure what.”

Jim feels himself go rigid- he realises he had not been as subtle or Spock as oblivious as he thought. He often voiced his train of thought aloud when they were lying in bed together, still delirious from vigorous physical activity, and Spock usually just let him babble on without too many questions.

“I’m not implying anything! I guess I was just trying to understand… well, you’re a logical man Mr. Spock…”

“Correct, Capt… apologies, Jim.”

“… but you can appreciate beauty. You can be… physically attracted to someone…”

“Clearly- and it is not illogical. Biological urges are needed for…”

“Yes, I understand that Mr. Spock. But what I’m trying to say is… I’m curious about who you are attracted to, or what attracts you…”

Spock raises an eyebrow at him, looking somewhat amused.

“I thought our time together would make that obvious, Jim.”

 “Yes, but even that… I don’t quite understand what makes you attracted to me, Spock. I feel like I have a lot of attributes you find annoying in most humans…”

“I do not find you annoying, sir.”

“Okay, let’s not do ‘sir’ either.”, Jim sighs exasperatedly, shaking his head. “You know what I mean- I’m just saying I’m not sure what exact qualities you find attractive in people. Like, if me and you weren’t sleeping together, would you go after T’Shile or Perkins the way you did with me that one night…”

“Negative Jim- I am not attracted to them.”

“Okay, but… why?”, he says, frowning. “They have a lot of attributes I’d think you would find attractive: they’re smart, driven, and very accomplished. And in terms of the physical, well, there's no accounting for taste, but they seem to be prime examples of their own gender and species…"

"You find them attractive, Jim?"

"No! Well, yes, but not in… I can find someone attractive, without wanting to jump their bones, you know?"

'I understand.", he says, nodding.

"Right, well, do you ever… look, at other people? Do you ever feel the urge to sleep with other people, but you don't go through with it because you feel I won't approve?"

"No.", is his short answer, his gaze steady and unblinking, devoid of any intonation.

"Right, okay, well…", Jim closes his eyes, laying back and running his hands through his temples, wondering how the hell he goes about this. "… if you ever did, feel attracted to someone else I mean, and you wanted them on a physical level, what would you do? Would you go after them, or would you hold off because you feel some kind of obligation to me, your captain?”

“That would not happen.”

“That you would go after them, or you would hold off?”

“I would not be attracted to anyone else.”

“Spock, you said it yourself, you have biological urges…”

“But I am still half-Vulcan. Our attractions are not as fleeting or frequent as other humanoid creatures.”

 “But that’s my point- what if you met someone, and you feel the urge to bond with them? I know things didn’t work out the last time, but that’s because you were bonded as children and ended up being incompatible. Now, you’re an adult, attractive and have a lot of influence… someone is going to snatch you up pretty soon, and clearly when that happens… this… our… situation would have to end. And if we were still working together that might… make things awkward.”

Jim can feel Spock’s arms stiffen around him, and as he looks up at Spock, he can see he looks… troubled. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell apart the minute changes in facial expressions, but Jim knew him well enough to tell.

“Jim, you seem to be under the misconception I do not value our relationship greatly. I have… great affection for you.”

“And I you, Spock.”, he whispers back, holding him close. ‘More than you’ll ever know…’ , he secretly thinks. “And that’s why… I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay at my side, because of our friendship or the fact you work for me. You are… you deserve the world…”

“But Jim, I am… most happy. Most satisfied, even. There is nothing I want to change.”

“Right now, maybe. But things change quickly… hell, I didn’t even think you particularly liked me when we first met.”

“I held little opinion when we first met- I had little evidence to go off, beyond what I’d been informed by others. Now, I… I hold you in very high regard. You’re one of the most selfless, bravest men I know. While your thinking is often most illogical, your intelligence and ingenuity are exceptional, and I have often seen it applied to almost impossible situations. You care for the wellbeing of your crew more than any senior officer I’ve worked under and… I consider you my friend. I feel closer to you than… almost anyone I know.”

Jim turns on his side to look at him, hoping it’s not obvious he’s blinking back tears. There was just something wonderful about the matter-of-fact way Spock gave compliments- he made them sound like facts rather than opinions.

“And you are my best friend Spock- although please don’t tell Bones I said that, he’ll kill me. And… and you have no idea how happy that makes me. It’s just that I…”, he closes his eyes, tries to breathe. He knows he shouldn’t say it, that this will ruin their easy understanding, their cozy yet passionate nights exploring each other’s bodies, but he can’t contain it anymore. “… I’m pretty sure… I’m in love with you. Proper old-fashioned romantic love, like none I’ve ever experienced before. And it pains me that… that… you do not have the same level of feeling I have for you, but I understand it. And… I know I cannot make you fall in love with me the way I want, but I… I want you in my life Spock, always. I’d hate to think of us as strangers one day, and if what it takes for us to keep our friendship is to… go back to the way we were, before we started all this, I can take that.  I don’t want you to feel you have to… flatter me or spare my feelings in any way, because I can take it. You deserve to have your own life, Spock, and my feelings for you… I can learn to let go of them. It may take a while, but I will learn how…”

Then mid-speech, Spock is suddenly kissing him, swallowing his words and Jim is letting him, even though he knows he should back off immediately because this is exactly what he’s talking about: Spock comforting him, trying to keep him happy and satisfied, when he knows he deserves better.

When they finally break apart, Jim feels a little dizzy from both the kiss and general lack of oxygen. He bites down on his lip as he looks at Spock, who is staring back at him with his dark eyes. He brushes his cheek with his long fingers.

“Jim, I am sorry if I have been… insufficient with my words these last few months. I confess I do not understand some of the finer details of human courtship, but my general understanding was that humans do not appreciate grand proclamations too early on, as they find relationship commitment rather daunting…”

“What are you saying, Spock?”, Jim whispers, hoping to whatever god is up there that he’s understanding correctly.

Spock’s gaze turns to his hand on Jim’s face and as he looks back at him, he can practically see the idea forming in his mind.

“Jim, could I ask if… it would be okay… that I melded my mind with yours? You can say no, of course, most humans find it rather invasive- but I can keep it one way, so you feel my thoughts, but I don’t feel yours. I just… know I am not the best at expressing my feelings through words and this might be the most efficient way to make you… understand.”

“A mind meld?”, he breathes, putting his hand on Spock’s. He’d studied Vulcan mind melds during his time at the academy, but he never thought he’d get to experience it for himself. “Well… I mean… are you sure? You’re okay with me seeing your thoughts? It’s not too… intimate for you?”

“I think we went past the point of ‘intimate’ one hundred and eighty-three days ago, Jim.”, Spock says dryly, his eyes twinkling. “But, yes, I want you to see.”

“Well… okay then.”, he smiles, sitting up and pressing Spock’s hand against his face, loving the coolness against his hot skin. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

Spock nods and asks him to relax, breathing slowly in and out and Jim obliges, going into a semi-meditative state. So much so, he doesn’t realise what has happened until he suddenly realises he is looking at himself somehow. But not just that, he senses feelings about himself as someone’s eyes gaze upon him, feelings of affection, protectiveness, admiration, lust…

Then he’s flying through memories, seeing himself racing across desolate wastelands, smirking across the chess table, the back of his head at the captain’s chair, him being pushed down into the bedsheets, every inch of his body admired, worshipped…

He sees himself dying. And the great despair, a hollow and endless cavern that threatens to rip his chest open, it’s so intense.

He sees himself in medbay, injured but very much alive, and his chest threatens to explode again but for very different, much better reasons now as hands grab at his shirt, and he is enveloped in someone’s strong arms...

When he’s brought back to the bed with Spock, he gasps, grabbing onto him for support as he falls forward. Spock is asking him if he’s okay, but Jim can only giddily laugh.

“I… I saw inside your mind…”

“Yes, that was the idea.”

“You… you…”, Jim smiles the biggest smile he’s ever smiled as he flops down on the bed, hand over his mouth as he tries to suppress his cackle. “Oh my god. You love me!”

And at that, he breaks, his laughter falling freely from his mouth as Spock just looks on unamused.

“I do not see what is so funny about my admittance of great affection, Jim…”

“Oh no, Spock, I’m not laughing because I think it’s funny…”, Jim quickly tries to reassure him, but delirious giggles still seem to escape him.  He lies down on top of Spock, both in an attempt to shut himself up and to feel his chest on his. “I’m just so… overwhelmed, I don’t know what to do, I’m so happy, oh my god, you love me! You actually love me!”

“Yes, t’hy’la.”, Spock smiles, but then he quickly goes wide-eyed, a shocked look on his face, like he can’t believe what he just said.

Jim raises his eyebrows.

“What does that mean then? Something rude? Actually, you know what, don’t tell me, show me…”, he lowers his head and Spock immediately obliges, placing his hand to his face again. “… and can you make it go both ways this time? I want you to feel what I feel…”

Spock looks at his hand, hesitating.

“Are you sure, Jim?”

He nods.

“Yes. Absolutely. I… you’re not the only one who has trouble putting things into words.”

Spock regards him carefully as if to make sure, before placing both hands on the sides of his face and this time, Jim can tell exactly when it happens. He feels he has two minds at once, but it is not overwhelming or confusing as he thought it might’ve been.

It is soothing, vast, pleasant… like they were always meant to be one.

He doesn’t so much as see the words t’hy’la, ashayam, k’diwa, but feels them, feels their meaning, and as the loving warmth of those words flow over him, Spock is right there beside him.

But Spock is also combing through his mind, learning the extent of his adoration throughout the years, but he also sees the confusion, the hurt, the jealousy…

Jim immediately feels guilty when he sees the look on Spock’s face.

“T’hy’la, I…”, Spock hesitates in his mind, as more waves of emotions overwhelm him. “I’m so sorry, I thought my devotion to you was clear…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”, Jim hears himself whisper back in his mind. “Looking back, I think you were just being obvious… I was just too dense to see it. I’ve never been loved like this and… oh god, you love me! And this…”, Jim feels himself extend his mind, brushing against Spock’s own consciousness. “And this feels so wonderful! Why haven’t we been doing this sooner?!”

“Vulcans do not offer to meld minds so flippantly- we are aware of how non-telepaths view it as extremely invasive and for non-compatible minds, it can feel extremely unpleasant for us. I… had to be sure you’d be agreeable to it, and I didn’t want to scare you away after just a few months of courtship… I did not even realise you found me attractive until that night in medbay, and I couldn’t believe my good fortune at the time.”

“Wait, Spock, you had feelings for me before that night? For how long?”

Spock simply replies with an image, accompanied by a light, airy feeling in this chest, and the feeling of warmth flowing through his body, like lying in front of a roaring fire.

“You realised you loved me a year before that?! Over chess?! Why did you never say anything?”

“Because I did not think you would want someone like me.”

And that’s when he feels it: the acceptance of being an outsider, but always an outsider. An alien working alongside humans, an alien amongst his own people. T’Pring’s rejection, his father’s refusal to talk to him after leaving Vulcan, always seeing Jim be overly affectionate with others but never him…

“Oh, Spock…”, he whispers, feeling himself wanting to cry, the feelings were so strong. It was no wonder Vulcans needed to learn how to repress their emotions.

“Apologies Jim, I did not intend to engage in… self-pity.”

“Spock, this is all you, I love all of you, do not apologise for it- I’m only sad you didn’t think you could share this with me.”

“If I had known it to be an option…”

“Well, you do now.”, Jim sighs inwardly, running his hand along his chest, loving the way he can now feel Spock’s pleasure as his fingertips brush his cool skin. “So… no more secrets from each other? Captain and First Officer against the world?”

“The universe, t’hy’la. The world seems… an insufficient metaphor.”

“Agreed.”, he grins, raising himself up onto his elbows, and starts kissing Spock again, running his tongue inside his mouth. “Oh, I love the way I can do this and talk at the same time…”

“You often try to anyway, Jim.”

“Yes, but this time it’s less garbled. And…”, he starts moving down Spock’s body, applying light kisses as he went. “… I love how I can feel everything I do to you.”

“Jim, what are you…”, Spock outwardly gasps as Jim goes lower and lower, his back arching off the bed.

“I think I’m up for another round, beloved… unless you have any objections?”

“Quite the opposite in fact, t’hy’la… as long as you still have the energy, of course.”

Jim scoffs at the teasing, but is quickly silenced when Spock rises up and grabs him by the back of the neck and kisses him so hard, he saw an entire milky way of stars.

“Spock, I… I love you. I’m so glad I managed to find you in this vast, crazy universe..”

He feels Spock smile into his mouth, his black eyes somehow glowing, like light trying to escape a black hole.

“I am… emotionally compromised by you as well, t’hy’la.”

That makes Jim laugh so hard, he nearly falls off the bed, saved only by quick Vulcan reflexes.

Present Day

“We have received a reply from the nearest Federation law enforcement station Captain- it is on a recently converted dwarf planet, Cermat 7. We can get there by shuttle in approximately two hours while the Enterprise remains stationed around Vallen.”

“Oh, yes?”, Jim calls to him from the bathroom, where he was getting in a last-minute shave before starting the day. He pats some aftershave into his neck, a present from Spock on their last shore leave, giving the bottle an appreciative sniff before setting it down. “What does the message say?”

“That our report has been logged, and that they are able to provide us with an appointment with an expert telepath today, in approximately eight Earth hours- they say to let us know if we are able to make that time.”

“Confirm it- that gives me at least five good hours of work this morning, then I can hand over the reins to Mr. Sulu.”

“Captain, I…”, Spock looks at him over the PADD as he walks back into the room, his curly hair neatly moussed, his skin glowing. He had to admit he looked significantly healthier and well rested compared to yesterday. “Do you think it advisable to return to work today? As I said before, your crew would understand your need to rest after working all weekend…”

“I need the distraction Mr. Spock- and I feel up to it. If I feel myself begin to falter, I will of course step down and ask another senior officer to man my station. However, I do not see that happening, most of my day seems to be taken up by paperwork… it’s only been one day and already the Vallens are looking to alter terms of our agreement, ones that’ll coincidentally make the royals a hell of a lot richer…”

“I am certain we will make headway with them Captain, even if we do need to send in more advisors on planet in the meantime. Will you need help going through their requests, or…”

“Negative, Mr. Spock. You can attend to your usual duties for now- if there is anything that needs your attention, I’ll let you know.”

“Very well sir- as long as you allow me to accompany you to Cermat, I am satisfied.”

“Of course.”, Jim smiles, walking over and leaning down to kiss him. “Wouldn’t have it any other way- though this wasn’t how I planned on getting extra shore leave, I’ll be honest with you.”

Jim’s smile falters, and Spock lays a hand on his, pressing their fingers together.

“As I said before, Jim, you can change your mind any time you want, even on Cermat if you so wish. I’ve let you know my opinion on the matter, but the final decision… is up to you.”

“Thanks Spock.”, Jim whispers, squeezing his hand. “I’m sure I want to do this, it’s just… getting a little nervous I guess.”

Spock nods.

“To be expected- it will be an unpleasant experience, I have no doubt, but just know I’ll be there for you, when it’s all over.”

“I know that.”, Jim smirks at him. “Couldn’t get rid of me if you wanted to- got you wrapped around my little finger.”

To emphasis this point, he curls his fingers around Spock’s again, a pleasant tingle emanating through both their bodies as he did so. He kisses Spock on the mouth again before making his way out of the room with his usual swagger. Spock looks on fondly, but his smile fades as Jim leaves the room.

It occurred to him that if his t’hy’la’s memories were recovered tonight, this might be the last time he’d see him this happy and carefree for a while. Jim had expressed the belief that they would be ‘alright’ in the end, but Spock did worry; he had known for a while Jim struggled with his trauma, Tarsus IV being a particularly formative part of his early life.  He could not help but be reminded of the results of a harrowing mission they’d been on just a few months back: they’d been tasked with rescuing a group of young children from the hands of slavers, and the state they had found those children in had seemed to particularly trigger Jim. His usually good-natured, boyish demeanour had been replaced with solemn, vacant stares and he had refused to mind meld with him for weeks, stating ‘you don’t need to see what’s going on in there’.

They had worked through it in the end, but it had scared Spock- Jim had felt unreachable during that time, and he had felt so hopeless, watching someone he cared about suffer in a way he couldn’t fully understand. He knew humans were often prone to self-destructive tendencies when emotionally overwhelmed, and it had taken him admitting that very fear to Jim that finally got him to open up- it had then taken a lot of work on both their parts to get him to a place where the world didn’t seem quite so grey.

He could only hope that he didn’t shut him out again.

Chapter Text

“Doctor, I require a copy of last night’s blood analysis.”

“Jesus, Spock!”, McCoy yelps, beaker of bubbling liquid still in hand when he whirls around to see the Vulcan standing just behind his shoulder, back straight, arms folded behind as usual. “Warn a guy, will ya? I swear you must wear slippers or walk on your tiptoes; I never hear you coming…”

“I apologise Doctor- I was under the impression your peripheral vision would’ve alerted you to my presence, but clearly that was not the case.”, he says in his usual monotone way, his stare impenetrable. “Now, about that report…”

“Yes, yes, let me just send it over to you…”, he grumbles, placing down the temperamental liquid on his desk and removing his safety gloves. “Though why this couldn’t just have been an email…”

“I also require the physical blood sample doctor, if you would allow it.”

“Oh? I mean… of course.”, McCoy looks him over inquisitively. “I assume this is for… some kind of official report?”

Spock nods his head.

“Correct doctor- me and Captain Kirk will be heading to the nearest law enforcement representatives later today, and we require all evidence be brought in.”

“Right, well… that’s good!”, McCoy clasps his hands together, looking somewhat relieved but his strained smile suggests he is still troubled. “Let me know if you need me to make a statement or anything.”

“Will do doctor- it may be necessary depending on how things progress.”

“Right, well…”, McCoy takes his out his PADD and makes a few quick swishes with his pen before setting it down. “… that should be the analysis sent over to you both now, along with my medical report. I’ll just go get the blood sample out of storage…”

As he goes into the backrooms, Spock flicks through the report again, even though he already has it dedicated to memory, wanting to make sure there weren’t any discrepancies in the details that could be later used against Jim in court. Satisfied, he looks up as the doctor returns and places the small metallic container on the table.

“There you go- whatever device they have for checking samples down at the station should also be able to detect the drug, but, you know, let me know if there any issues.”

“Thank you, doctor.”, Spock places the vial into his small hip pack for safekeeping. “And yes, I will endeavour to do so.”

“Okay then…”, McCoy rubs his hands together, looking very uncomfortable. His gaze doesn’t quite reach Spock’s when he speaks again, his voice slow and controlled: “And mind if I ask… how is Jim doing? I saw he signed in for work this morning, but I’ve not been able to see him yet…”

Spock hesitates a moment, weighing up the situation before deciding to go full honesty: after all, Dr McCoy was going to be a key witness going forward and Jim would undoubtedly bring him into the loop at some point:

“He is… about as well as he can be. But my hypothesis is that this is because he currently does not have access to his memories of the event.” Spock looks down at the metal lab table, the beaker of liquid still hissing. “Along with filing a report, we are also meeting with an expert telepath at the station- she will be able to recover said memories, and this will hopefully help us find the perpetrator, and provide a more accurate timeline of events.”

“Oh!”, McCoy says, surprised. “I didn’t know… are you both sure that’s a good idea? I know Jim’s a tough cookie, but recovering such memories… it won’t exactly be painless, will it?”

Spock considers giving a neutral response, but there’s something about the way the doctor looks at him, full of concern for his friend, that forces him to voice his real opinion:

“… I made it clear to Jim I did not think recovering his memories was advisable or necessary- but he refuses to be swayed, now that he knows there is a way of curing his amnesia affliction. I… would very much like it if he changed his mind, but I know he is a stubborn individual once he has his mind set on something. I can understand why he is uncomfortable with having no memory of what happened to him, but I fear he underestimates the potential detriment to his mental health.”

McCoy nods solemnly.

“Sounds about right for Jim- he’s always in Captain Kirk mode, always ready to make the big sacrifices if he thinks it will get results. I know if you were unable to convince him, I probably won’t have much luck, but… do you want me to try?”

“No, doctor.”, Spock shakes his head. “I do not even know if I should’ve told you of our plans, and Jim may only become more obstinate if we push too hard.  I hope he will change his mind on the way there, as he thinks it over more, but I know that is not a guarantee. Actually…”, Spock frowns to himself, before looking McCoy up and down, his expression considering. “Doctor, please feel free to refuse if you wish, but… I know you said you did not see anything last night, but memory is fallible, doubly so when alcohol is involved. Would you allow me to mind meld with you, just so I can look over what you saw during and after the dinner? I promise I will only look at what is necessary and be as least invasive as possible.”

“Mind meld?”, McCoy whispers, shivering when he remembers his own experience with Mirror Spock.

“Once again, I completely understand if you refuse doctor- most would. But I would like to just… cover all bases, before we leave for Cermat 7. If there is even a small chance we can find out who drugged the captain, without having to resort to restoring his memories, I… would appreciate it.”

McCoy gazes at him wearily, noting how the Vulcan’s body language was missing its usual air of superiority or haughtiness- he looked downright defeated in fact.

He sighs.

“Yeah, go on then… if you think it might help…”

“Thank you doctor… it shouldn’t take long, and I will endeavour that you do not feel my presence.”, Spock says flatly, his eyes flickering towards his hand before placing it gently on the side of McCoy’s face, who does his best not to shudder. “If you feel discomfort at all, let me know and I will stop…”

“I always feel discomfort around you, hobgoblin…”, he mutters, causing Spock to immediately remove his hand. “Hey, hey, I was just kidding- just hurry up and do your little psychic thing, so I can get on with my day...”

“Very well doctor.”, he says, placing his hand pack on his face and staring into his big blue eyes. “Do your best to relax, and the process should go smoothly.”

McCoy rolls his eyes but does his best to comply, his fingers fidgeting as Spock stares daggers at him, a tingly feeling at the base of his skull. Then, in what feels like less than a minute, Spock moves his hand away from his face, his eyes slightly dejected looking.

McCoy just stares at him.

“Wait- was that it?”

“Yes- as I said, I ensured my own mind was closed off to you, so you did not feel my presence. It is a fairly straight-forward process otherwise.”

That damn Mirror Spock was even more of an asshole than he thought.

“Right, well, did you get anything useful?”

Spock shakes his head.

“Not especially. It is as you said- you were seated on the opposite end of the table to Jim and had little opportunity to take note his comings and goings, or what he ate and drank. You saw… signs of Jim’s supposed alcohol-related inebriation just after dessert, and him… becoming much more physical with the princess when the band started playing. That at least gives us more accurate idea of a timeline, since while it’s clear the drug was taking effect around this time, he had not fully succumbed yet- so he would’ve ingested it less than an hour before the end of the meal. I will include this fact in our report, but it does not really narrow down our list of suspects in any substantial way.”

“Yes, well… I’m sorry about that.”, the doctor murmurs, rubbing his neck as he looks sheepishly down at his feet.

“You have nothing to be sorry for doctor- I knew it was unlikely to produce results, as the perpetrator would likely have done their best to be discrete. Still… I do not regret trying.”

“Of course.”, McCoy nods, hands in his trouser pockets. “Just, let me know if you need anything else, won’t you?”

“Actually, doctor…”, Spock says quietly, who stares back at him expectantly.  “… could you please look into some options for therapists who specialise in cases similar to this? See if there would be anyone willing to travel on the Enterprise for a little while, maybe a few months? I know Jim has been reluctant to seek outside help in the past, but if we had someone readily available on board…”

“Of course, Spock- anything you think will help Jim. I’m sure Nurse Chapel knows some good contacts.”

Spock nods and gives an appreciative little bow. “Thank you doctor- I will give you an update on the situation when we return later tonight.”

Spock makes to leave, but he hesitates a second, before quickly and robotically striding back to the table where McCoy resides.

“Before I go doctor, I’d just like to… apologise for my behaviour towards you last night. My species prides itself on our ability to control our emotions, and yet I chose to let my feelings of anger and helplessness at the whole situation override my reasoning- truly shameful of me. I should not have lashed out at you, especially when your only crime was being there for Jim when I could not be.”

McCoy raises an eyebrow at him, then smirks.

“Your boyfriend order you to apologise?”

Spock nods.

“Yes, but I eventually would’ve come to you of my own volition as well- Jim only brought attention to my social transgression sooner.”

“Ah, typical marriage dynamic.”, McCoy mutters, rolling his eyes. “Can’t say I miss it… anyway, Spock, there’s no need to apologise. I fucked up, I know that. Anyone with eyes should’ve been able to see the red flags yesterday, yet I was somehow blind to the fact my friend and patient was going through it. And I saw him acting strange the night before- if I had realised he was too far gone to consent, if I had dragged him off her…”

“You did not have the full context to make that judgement doctor- you did not know of me and Jim’s relationship, and he has never denied the rumours of his general promiscuity, so his behaviour would not have struck you as especially odd or out of character.”

McCoy shook his head.

“Dear god, I cannot believe you two managed to keep that a secret all these months… well, I believe you could, him not so much…”

Spock inclines his head at him.

“If it makes you feel any better, doctor, he did want you to be one of the first to know- he just never quite knew the correct way to go about it.”

“Well, I can understand that…”, he chuckles. “Never could’ve imagined you two, together, to be honest…”

“You find the idea of our coupling unusual, doctor?”, Spock enquires, his dark eyes blinking. “I would not blame you if you did.”

“It’s a little more than unusual! But, well, despite what I’ve said and may in future say to the contrary, you’re a good man hobgoblin.”, McCoy says, his eyes softening a little. “And... I’m glad Jim has someone like you in his corner.”

Spock nods his head.

“I could say the same about you, doctor.”

McCoy just laughs at that.

“Well, look at that, a compliment from the Vulcan! Never thought I’d see the day,,, anyway.”, McCoy snaps his gloves back on and picks up the still slightly smoking beaker. “Get the hell out of my lab hobgoblin, I’m behind schedule as is!”

Spock bows at him once more and makes his way out the door.

Chapter Text

Ten years ago, Cermat 7 had been a desolate, unnamed dwarf planet floating around a young star, with no vegetation or water sources to speak of. The planet’s surface had consisted of  only dry sand and volcanic rock formations, and no life forms were able to survive the harsh climates, besides some tiny microbes.

Now, thanks to Starfleet’s efforts of extensive planetary terraforming, along with installations of new communication centres and trade routes, it had become a safe haven for refugees across the galaxy, of all species and cultures. People fleeing war, destruction of their home planet or other forms of destitution would come to the outpost, seeking a new start. It had only been a decade since the initial project began, but it had already become a thriving Eden for business owners and artists alike. People came from light years around to sample the bustling markets, the diverse and extensive dishes found in many a pop-up restaurant, and the exhilarating entertainment performed every evening by some of the galaxy’s most talented and innovative performers. As more people began to settle there permanently, universities and schools were set up in and around the capital, and scientists found ways of increasing the planet’s biodiversity, allowing crops and trees to be grown, greatly reducing the planet’s reliance on outside trading.

It had truly come a long way from being just another small rock floating through space, anonymous and uninhabitable. Now, it was the cultural cornerstone of the galaxy, alive and dynamic, filled with open green spaces and architectural marvels.

As him and Spock step out of the shuttle station and into the busy crowds, Jim cannot but help but sniff the air appreciatively: the perfumes, the delicious food smells, the sweet scent of blossoms floating over from the flower stalls…

“You know, we should really come here again someday- for more fun reasons, I mean.”

Spock does not respond, as he concentrates on navigating his way through the crowd, his eyes trained on his PADD.

“According to this, we are only a fifteen-minute walk away from the station, making us ten minutes early for our appointment- ideal timing, though I would have preferred to arrive earlier, so we could’ve indulged in some beverages beforehand…”

“Maybe we could do something after?”, Jim ponders, craning his head around. “Seems to be plenty of teahouses in this part of town, and we may have to wait around for the next shuttle out, depending on when we finish.”

The two of them have coats on that do not bear the Starfleet insignia, so they are given little notice as they walked down the street together. Jim rather liked the feeling of being anonymous and was almost tempted to take advantage of his freedom and hold Spock’s hand, but he stops himself.

If there was one thing he’d learnt over the years, was that just because it felt like you weren’t being watched, didn’t mean that was the case. He’d had enough bonks to the back of the head in his career to learn that by now.

Soon, they reach the police station, a white circular building along the coast of an artificial lake, the Federation hologram sign lit up and thrumming softly at its entrance. The two men wander up the stairs, Jim doing his best to appear calm, but he can feel his heart rate start to quicken and his palms are sweating badly. Spock looks over at him and subtly brushes his palm, sending soothing waves up his arm and Jim smiles up at him gratefully. As they reach the front door, Spock turns towards him, his expression sombre:

“Jim, I still think you should rethink recovering your memories. We can still tell them you changed your mind, and simply make a report of the assault…”

“Spock, I’m sorry- but I have to do this.”, Jim sighs, scratching his neck nervously. “You don’t have to come in with me, but… I would appreciate it if you would.”

“Of course.”, Spock nods, turning back towards the door. “I promised you I would be here- I only hoped that you would reconsider by this point.”

Jim smirks at him.

“Yeah, well… I’m a stubborn man. You know this.”

Silently, he rings the bell and after a moment, the large metal doors swing open, allowing the two men to enter.

*********************************************************************************

A nervous looking young man is working at the reception, a Bajoran with sandy blonde hair and tanned skin. He gawks a little when he sees the two of them enter, and stutters as he asks Jim to confirm his details, his skin flushing. Jim wondered if it was his first day on the job or something, he seemed so jittery, or if he had recognised his name from the news somewhere and was feeling a bit starstruck. Either way, he seems overly flustered and clumsy- it takes him three attempts to correctly spell ‘Tiberius’ correctly, and he can tell Spock is becoming extremely frustrated with his inefficiency, though he does his best to hide it.

Eventually, he gets all their details down and asks them to take a seat while they wait for the detectives assigned to their case. They do so, and five minutes later two women come through to greet them, one a friendly-looking, dark-skinned human woman, her long curly hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and the other a tall, very severe looking Vulcan with closely cropped black hair, and heavy eye makeup. Both are wearing dark blue Starfleet uniforms with high collars and leather boots.

“Captain Kirk?”, the human lady smiles, holding out her hand. “I’m Detective Aurora, and this is my partner, Dr T’Vina.”, she says, indicating the Vulcan woman beside her, who regards him and Spock indifferently.

“Greetings.”, Kirk smiles charmingly, shaking her hand, and quickly copies Spock when he gives the Vulcan salute to T’Vina. “Lovely to meet you both. This is my first officer, Commander Spock, and I have asked him to accompany me today…”

“You are of Vulcan heritage.”, T’Vina interrupts him bluntly, her kohl-rimmed eyes trained on Spock. “Do you possess telepathic abilities?”

“Yes.”, Spock nods, his face unreadable.

“Then you cannot be in the room during the mind melding process- we ask that you stay back here for the duration of the procedure.”

“Vee!”, Aurora hisses, her eyes darting back to Kirk nervously. “Sorry for my partner’s lack of tact- but she is correct. Our rules state that nobody with the potential to interfere telepathically or otherwise with the mind melding process is to be allowed in the room- I’m afraid no exceptions can be made.”

Jim looks nervously over at Spock, who remains blank-faced, but there is a stiffness to the way he holds himself that shows he is unhappy with this situation. He turns back to the two detectives:

“Commander Spock is a touch-telepath, he cannot interfere with my mind unless he…”

“I am aware of how touch-telepaths work, Captain Kirk, being one myself.”, T’Vina says coldly, making Jim feel rightfully stupid. “But Starfleet law enforcement has the rule in place, and no exceptions can be made. If you are unwilling to do the procedure without another officer present, I ask that we rearrange this appointment and you assign a non-telepath to accompany you, in line with our procedure.”

Jim feels his mouth go dry- he could do just that, come back in the morning with Bones in tow, but he is reluctant to wait even that long. Who knows if he would still have the guts to go through with it tomorrow?

No, he needed to get it over with.

“That is… unnecessary, Dr. T’Vina. I can go in on my own.”, Jim says quietly, faltering as he casts his eyes over Spock, who is looking over at him, disappointed but accepting. “Spock, please wait here- it shouldn’t take long.”

“The procedure takes a mean average time of sixty-seven minutes- and ranges from thirty to ninety-nine minutes.”, T’Vina confirms. “If the time required exceeds the typical limits, someone will be sent through to inform you.”

“We’ll do our best to make this as comfortable as it can be, Captain.”, Aurora smiles sympathetically at him. “If you feel like you need to stop at any point, let us know, and we can attempt this another day.”

“Thank you- I’ll keep that in mind.”, Jim nods at them, before turning back to Spock. “You can hand in the evidence while I’m in there, right?”

“Of course, Captain.”, Spock nods, looking deeply into his eyes, making T’Vina raise her own brow curiously. “Anything you need.”

A moment passes between the two of them, and it’s Aurora who has to cough to interrupt, her face clearly confused about what just transpired.

“Well then… shall we go through?”

And with that, Jim and the two women make their way down the hall. Spock keeps his eyes trained on Jim until all three of them disappear behind the sliding doors.

**********************************************************************************

They were in a bright white room with all the trappings of a typical office space, besides the cream chaise lounge that at the centre of it, similar to a therapist’s chair. Aurora asks him to lie back on the chair and she takes out her tablet and starts flicking through various documents while T’Vina turns on a nearby camera and some recording equipment.

“Okay, Captain Kirk… we’ll need you to sign the liability waiver form, the contents of which were sent across to you this morning. Have you had time to read it since then?”

Jim nods- he’d read it to pass the time on the two-hour shuttle journey.

Aurora smiles happily.

“Excellent- so, can you please state for the record that you understand the risks of this procedure, and that while Dr T’Vina and myself will do the upmost to ensure your safety and wellbeing, that there is always a degree of risk associated with this form of mind alternation, both mentally and physically?”

Jim nods, hoping he doesn’t look as panicky as he feels.

“I do.”

“And, understanding that there is a risk, you consent to having your mind probed and potentially altered by my colleague Dr T’Vina, with the express purpose of recovering a repressed memory to aid your drug-facilitated sexual assault claim?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Captain.”, Aurora says, her smiley demeanour now gone, her gaze full of sympathy. “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“Yes, well…”, Jim shrugs. “… nobody could ever say my life was boring I suppose.”

Aurora gives his half-hearted attempt at a joke a queasy smile, before quickly going back to business.

“Captain, before you sign the form, you are aware that the procedure will require you to take a psychotropic solution before we begin? You will remain awake, but it will alter your mood so any feelings of anxiety or stress are significantly lessened, your muscles relaxed, and your reaction times slowed. This will make the mind meld significantly less risky for both Dr T’Vina and yourself, since attempting to locate and recover a repressed memory puts your brain on the defensive, so it is vital you remain unpanicked. Dr T’Vina is very experienced with this procedure, but as I said before, it is never without a risk.”

“I… understand.”

“So, to be clear, you would consent to drinking the psychotropic solution, for the purpose of this procedure?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that will be all then, Captain…”, Aurora says, handing over her tablet to him. “Please sign here and we can begin.”

He does so, and he is then handed what looks like cloudy water in a clear glass. He drinks it quickly, pulling a face at the slight chalkiness before settling back in the chair, guided by Aurora to lay back. He can already feel the effect of the drug working, as he feels himself sink into the softness of the chair, his muscles relaxing, finding himself not caring when T’Vina starts rubbing the sides of his temples with her long fingers, almost enjoying it when he closes his eyes, pretending he’s getting a head massage.

“I’ll just dim the lights, Captain.”, Aurora calls from the other side of the room, and the darkness behind his eyelids becomes even more so. “As little visual stimulus as possible has been shown to be beneficial.”

“Hmm…”, he murmurs in response, as he feels T’Vina’s hands still, and a familiar tingle permeate through his skull.

“I think I have found a point of safe entry, Captain Kirk.”, T’Vina says monotonely, her fingers placed just above his ears, digging into the skin slightly. “Do you wish for me to proceed?”

He nods, though it feels like it takes a minute for his body to respond to his brain’s order.

“Very well then.”, T’Vina nods, the tips of fingers suddenly feeling quite warm. “I will begin the mind meld now- and, my apologies beforehand. This will most likely not be pleasant…”

Before he can even say anything in response, he feels himself sink through the chair, through the floor, down into darkness.

Chapter Text

“I’m telling you Jim, I don’t like this, any of this.”

“Keep your voice down Bones!”, he hisses, wearily scanning the room for eavesdroppers. He turns to the barkeep and orders another glass of whisky to take the edge off. “We have no idea who’s listening…”

“God, who cares anymore? These damn people are messing with us, they’ve been leading us in circles all day- and that damn princess is way more interested in fluttering her eyelashes at you than any alliance plan we put in front of her.”

“Come on Bones, we did good work today…”

“Yeah, we did good work, but it doesn’t matter how good your essay is Jimmy, if the teacher was always planning to fail you anyway!”

“If there was no chance of an alliance, they wouldn’t have invited us…”

“Come on Jim, this is the Vallen royal family we’re talking about- they live to dick people about. They invite them to their big fancy palace, shove their wealth in your face then stab you in the back on the way out the door.”

“They should want to agree to this alliance- it’s to their benefit.”, Jim points out, sipping his drink. “Their weapons can only hold out for so long against the Altonians, they need allies…”

“And who’s to say the Vallens might not prefer to ally with those warlords? From what I hear, these royals aren’t exactly pillars of morality themselves. The only reason the princess regent is first in line to the throne is because her siblings kept killing each other to get ahead! She was literally number thirteen when she was born…”

“Lucky number.”, Jim murmurs, swishing his drink. “Look, I managed to catch the princess earlier today, in private…”

“Oh, I bet you did…”

Jim just rolls his eyes at him.

“… and she seemed agreeable enough to an alliance.”

Bones shakes his head.

“More like she was trying to butter you up while she finally had you alone… look Jim, you heard them in there. They don’t like what we’re bringing to the table, and anytime we try to find a compromise with them, they bring up yet another ridiculous request. That idiot husband of the princess’s, the one who fancies himself a businessman, he was the worst of it! Imagine asking for permission to build one of your factories on Mars, the cheek of it…”

“Yes, the talks have been very… chaotic.”, Jim sighs, swigging the remnants of his whisky. “But, I think they were just doing a bunch of grandstanding, seeing what else they can get out of us. By the end of tomorrow morning, we’ll see results I’m sure…”

“Denial is a rivel in Egypt…”, Bones mutters darkly, before raising an eyebrow at Jim. “Why are you so for this alliance now, anyway? I thought you and hobgoblin were dead set against it.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”, Jim shrugs, putting his glass back on the counter. “We just had our worries, you know? Temperamental royals, as you say…”

He still hasn’t told Bones about the tongue lashing he got from top brass when expressing his opinion on such an alliance, along with their promise that if these talks didn’t get the results they desired, both him and Spock would be disciplined for suspected sabotage. It shamed him that he had ended up kowtowing to their demands, but Spock had pointed out that it was better that he remain at the forefront of this whole operation and try to use Starfleet’s resources and influence to better the lives of the people of Vallen. Of course, it would take a lot of work, and the royal family weren’t exactly known to be generous, loving rulers, but after meeting the princess regent today, he had a bit of hope. Yes, she was probably just as selfish and immoral as the rest of her family, but she also did not seem especially intelligent or interested in politics, which could make her easy to manipulate for his own gain. If he had to flatter and charm a spoilt rich woman into helping the poor, well, he was willing to swallow his dignity for the needs of the many.

Just then, horns started playing, and Princess Feronzi wanders into the ballroom looking a vision, her azure skin glowing under the candlelight, long raven locks tumbling down her back, silver crown atop her head, and all exposed parts of her body covered in glitter. Her white dress has cleavage all the way to her bellybutton and has cut-outs on the sides, leaving little to the imagination. As she walks past them, Jim sees she has multiple silver bracelets going up her long legs, jingling as she went. She gives Jim a wink as she passes by, a small smile on her painted lips, causing Bones to roll his eyes and order another drink. Jim just gives her a weak smile, hoping he did not look as tired or irritated as he actually felt. He had spent all day being the main target of the princess’s attentions, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Bones or the rest of his Starfleet colleagues, if their teasing was any indication. It had been difficult to try and not offend the princess while also not overly encouraging her flirtations, but he thought he’d somewhat managed today, minus a few awkward interactions.

If he could just get through dinner now…

*******************************************************************************************

He’d groaned when he saw the seating arrangement chart: the princess was directly opposite him, and to his right was Admiral Henson, recently promoted and arrogant with it. Jim had only had to work with him directly a few times in his career, and each time was worse than the last. There was just a sliminess about the man, from his casual xenophobia around alien diplomats to the way his eyes would linger lecherously on every attractive young woman he came across, even though he himself was old enough to be their grandfather. How he had risen so high in Starfleet’s ranks with all his personality defects and lack of social awareness, Jim would never know, but it wasn’t his job to criticise the higher-ups on their decision-making.

They’d made that very clear to him.

Bones, who was usually his anchor at these kinds of events, was seated at the other side of the table with Vallen’s Health Minister and the princess’s obnoxious husband with the bad facial hair. Jim patted him on the back sympathetically before making his way to his own seat, a glass of ruby red wine already set out for him. The princess and Admiral Henson join him a minute later, and as she sat down slowly, Jim has to avert his eyes to avoid a diplomatic faux poi of looking directly down a royal’s chest.

He notices Henson does not avert his eyes in the slightest and even tries to catch his eye with a filthy smirk on his face, nudging him with his elbow like he was one of his old buddies or something. Jim does his best to ignore him and sips at his wine, which is excellent. The soup much less so, but he scrapes the bowl clean regardless. He hadn’t had anything to each since lunch, and he needed the nourishment if he was going to get through this night.

He had tried to bring up the subject of the negotiations with the princess multiple times already, but each time she deflected, smiling prettily and asking him questions about his adventures on the Enterprise and his own personal life. If she hadn’t insisted on bending across the table and stroking his arm with one of her long clawed fingernails as she chatted, he might’ve felt more comfortable. Henson grinning like an idiot the whole time was not helping.

As the main course of roast swine was set down in front of them, Jim was grateful for the distraction of more food and starts digging in. The princess however leaves her food mostly untouched, just continuing to stare forward and smile at him, showing off her shiny pointed teeth.

He wasn’t going to lie, it was starting to creep him out a little.

“You are a very handsome man, James.”, she says suddenly, as she slowly and seductively sips her red wine, residue sticking to her lipstick. “I’ve seen many humans in my time, but never one as stunning as you.”

“I… er…”, Jim coughs, sensing he’s entering dangerous territory here, one that sensitivity training was supposed to prepare him for. “… I’m flattered, your majesty. You’re looking lovely yourself…”

“Have you a wife, Captain? Or a betrothed?”, she murmurs, running a hand over his knuckles and it takes everything in him not to snatch it away, her hooded eyes peeking up at his face, still smirking.

“No, your majesty.”, he says firmly. “I’ve been too focussed on my career these last ten years to really…”

“But you have someone, yes?”, she smiles brightly, her glittery skin shimmering in the candlelight. “I know most humans tend to prefer monogamy, and you don’t strike me as someone who would usually play hard-to-get… not that I don’t enjoy the chase of course!”

Jim stares at her, and it occurs to him that she might be more perceptive than he thought. Henson meanwhile seems to be enjoying the show, while everyone else around him does their best to ignore what’s going on in front of them.

“Of course, you’re a well-travelled man James… so you should understand, that there is no shame in…”, she leans forward even further and whispers: “in indulging from time to time. After all, life is short, the universe vast, and she won’t ever have to know…”

Her bare leg brushes up against his trouser leg, and suddenly Jim finds himself leaping up from his chair, drawing the attention of everyone around him. A brief look of fury crosses the princess’s face, before quickly reverting back to that sickly sweet smile. Henson for some reason looks a bit panicked, like something had just gone very wrong, and Jim can’t help but feel a little satisfied to see the smug look leave his face.

“Forgive me, your highness.”, he says reverently, bowing. “I… need to go get some air, it is getting quite stifling in here.”

And with that, he marches quickly out the room, not missing the way Henson’s eyes remains on him as he leaves.

**************************************************************************************************

“Kirk, my boy!”, Henson’s voice booms and Jim can feel his heart sink. He’d been enjoying his quiet respite on the balcony, away from prying eyes and the princess’s attentions. And he certainly did not want to talk to Henson right now, who wanders up beside him, holding a cigarette. “You know, I think you were right about getting some air, clears the head a bit…”

Jim just grunts in response, too fatigued to engage in any form of small talk right now.

“You know, I used to know your father, Jim… a real ladies’ man, that one. Before he settled down with your mother, of course!”, he smiles at him, flicking the end of his cigarette butt into a nearby flower bush. “And from what I hear about you, apple doesn’t fall far from the tree...”

He doesn’t respond, and is about to make his excuse to leave, when Henson puts his hand on his arm in an overly familiar way.

“And Georgie always understood… that sometimes he had to use his charms for the greater good… when it suited the mission…”, he whispers intensely, looking him straight in the eye, his ruddy cheeks more flushed than ever.

“Admiral?”, Jim frowns at him, pulling his arm away. “What are you…”

“You know how difficult it was to get the Vallens to even consider just meeting with us Kirk, never mind an alliance? These blue devils think they’re so above it all, that the war won’t reach their shores simply because they’ll throw money at it. The royal family are fools, the lot of them. And I include the princess in that, though I must say…”, he takes another puff of smoke, a perverted little grin on this face. “… lovely lady, lovely lady. Not one for politics really, but I suppose she has her advisors for that… no, her real interest is chasing pleasure, wherever she can get it.”

Henson looks over at him pointedly, but Jim just shakes his head.

“I’m… sorry sir, I really don’t understand what you’re getting at…”

“The only reason these negotiations are happening is because the princess willed it so. And the only reason she did, was the chance to meet you.”

“Me?!”, Jim stares at him, gobsmacked. “Why me? We’ve never met before this…”

“Because she wanted to meet the Captain Kirk- even this far out, people have heard of your exploits, son. Including your way with women…”

“Sir…”, he says, stepping back from the balcony edge, his head spinning now. The wine he’d had with the meal certainly wasn’t been helping. “If I’m understanding you correctly, this weekend, these negotiations, all this effort, is all because some royal has a crush on me?! Am I understanding this correctly?!”

“Yes and no, James.”, Henson sighs, lighting up another cigarette. If he lived in any other century, he’d have had every lung disease under the sun by now. “Like I said, Starfleet have been trying to make these negotiations happen for a long time… we almost got there a few years ago, but then the princess’s father got sick, and has been in a coma since. The princess regent, like I said, even bigger fool than her father, no interest in forming an alliance with outworlders… but when she heard your name being flung around, well, that changed things.”

“Okay…”, Jim frowns, crossing his arms. “… does the Federation really want to work with a leader so… immature and self-serving? I mean, using a diplomatic event as a way to get closer to some Starfleet captain, it’s so… well, it’s just plain ridiculous.”

“The official story we gave to the Federation was that the princess was convinced to consider the alliance, after we made her understand the plight of her people if war ever reached their shores… complete bullshit, of course, she doesn’t give a damn. Would probably sell her people to the Altonians for a profit if given the choice. But the official story is what we’re going with, and it’s best it stays that way. Starfleet needs these weapons, and we can’t afford any more complications, not when we’re so close…”

“So what you’re saying is…”, Jim says slowly, letting it all sink in. “… you got these negotiations to happen by promising the princess I’d be attending this weekend. Sir, with all due respect, that is…”

“I did what had to be done! I’ve done it all my career- how’d you think I got where I am now? By giving people what they want, no matter how ridiculous it might seem- it’s all for the greater good. You should understand that James, you’ve been a Captain long enough…”

“No sir, I do not understand…”, Jim groans, rubbing at his temples. “This probably goes against every morality clause in the book… I mean, what if someone finds out about this? Starfleet’s reputation would plummet…”

“No-one would find out. Believe me- I’ve always been good at burying stories.”

Jim stares at the red-faced older man, and feels a shiver go through his body- the way he had said that had been oddly terrifying. He’d seen that attitude on many a tyrant in his lifetime.

“Admiral, why… why are you telling me this now? Why are you telling me at all?”

 Henson gives him a hard stare for a little while, all joviality gone from his face as he takes another long drag on his cigarette.

“Why Jim? Well, as I said these negotiations only came to fruition because little miss Lady Blue over there wanted to meet the famous Captain Kirk. Agreeing to an alliance however… well, she’s wanting something more than just polite dinner conversation.”

“And what would that be, admiral?”

Henson points back to the ballroom.

“Back there, I had a quick little talk with her majesty… and she made it pretty damn clear she is going to tell her people to vote against the alliance tomorrow.”

“What?”, Jim stares at him. “But… why? Why would she even tell you that?”

“Because I was the one who assured her that Captain Kirk knows how to treat a lady right- and so far, son, you’ve been a disappointment to her.”

“So… what?”, he frowns, waving away the cigarette smoke from his face. “You want me to flirt with the princess, all for the sake of an alliance? Admiral, that is not…”

“She’s wanting a little more than a flirt, James.”

“What do you…”

And then it hits him, and he feels a wave of righteous fury flow through him.

“You are… suggesting I sleep with the princess…”, his voice catching, he’s so indignant. “How can you even… have you no respect for…”

“Oh, keep acting so pious Kirk- everyone knows your reputation. At least with this, your man-whoring will be for a good cause…”

He shakes his head and balls up his fists, resisting the urge to slam them into the smug bastard’s face.

“Admiral, if you think I’m getting involved with this sleazy little scheme of yours, you’ve got another thing coming! I can’t believe someone as senior as you would even suggest such a ridiculous thing!”

Henson scowls at him furiously, any semblance of fake-friendliness long gone.

“God Kirk, I’m asking you to appease some spoilt princess for one night! Quick acting like it’s some hardship on your part, you’ve seen how easy she is on the eyes- and it’s not like you’ll ever have to see her again.”

“Admiral…”, he says firmly, stepping back, ready to walk away. “I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened- and for your own sake you should do the same.”

Suddenly Henson grabs him by the shirt, and Jim is so taken aback he feels himself freeze up for a second.

“Now you listen here, Kirk…”, Henson snarls, his teeth clenched. “I know about your little tiff with Starfleet, that you’re no longer their little golden boy… if we don’t get this alliance, you can say goodbye to your position as captain…”

“If me choosing to act with integrity will cost me my career, so be it.”, Jim responds slowly and calmly, his teeth only slightly gritted, gaze unblinking. “Now… remove your hands before I make sure you lose them.”

Still scowling, Henson releases his tight grip and storms his way back into the dining room. After a moment, Jim smooths down his own uniform, his palms still sweaty, and takes a few deep breaths before also making his way back inside.

He needed to talk to Bones.

**************************************************************************************************

Everyone was taking a break before dessert was served, either hanging out in the ballroom or near the bar. Jim had spent a good fifteen minutes looking for Bones, but it was hard to pick out the brown-haired man in this crowd, especially when pretty much everyone was wearing white and gold.

Then, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he whirls around, expecting to see the good doctor. But to his dismay, it’s Henson, holding two filled champagne flutes, still smelling of cigarette smoke.

“Kirk.”, he says, his expression sorrowful, or at least it was trying to be. “I just want to say I’m so sorry what transpired back there- I don’t know what came over me.”

“Think nothing of it, Admiral.”, he says tersely. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Kirk, I…”, he puts a hand on his chest to stop him walking off, and it’s only the knowledge that he’s surrounded by a hundred other party-goer’s watchful eyes that stops Jim from slapping it away. “I… was wrong to ask you to do such a thing, believe me when I say I’m not usually like that. It’s just… I panicked. I’ve been working on making these negotiations happen for so long, and when the princess confronted me like that, well… I just didn’t know what to do.”

Jim is unconvinced by Henson’s performance, but he also wants him to get out of his face as quickly as possible, so he’ll play nice for now. As soon as he was able to escape this sham of a party, he was going to put in a report to Starfleet, let them know what one of their own respected admirals had requested of him.

“It is fine sir, I understand… you’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”

Henson puts on that stupid grin again and hands one of his champagne flutes to Jim, who takes it wearily.

“So what I’m hearing is… no hard feelings Kirk?”, he smiles, raising his glass. “Can we toast to that?”

“Sure.”, Jim says grimly, raising his own glass at Henson. “To no hard feelings.”

They clink their flutes together, and both men take a swig, Jim pulling a slight face at the taste- it was quite bitter for champagne. Henson laughs at his expression, slinging an arm over his shoulder and Jim once again feels the urge to punch him.

“Yes, the Vallens don’t really do champagne like the French do… I don’t even think they have real grapes here. Anyway, I hope we can move on from this now Kirk, and make sure we can get this alliance moving forward, fair and square.”

“Of course, sir…”, Jim mutters, adeptly stepping out of his grasp. “We’ll just… forget this ever happened.”

Henson smirks at him, a very satisfied look in his eye that Jim doesn’t like.

“Yes. I suppose we will…”

The sound of the gong indicates that it’s time for dessert, and all the guests begin making their way through.

**************************************************************************************************

Jim loosens his collar, surprised by how hot he is- had they turned up the temperature in the dining room while they were out? He was also feeling a little hazy in the head, as he struggled to concentrate on the conversations going on around him, just trying to nod when appropriate. He supposed he must be tired, or that last glass of champagne had finally pushed him too far. He liked to think he had a fairly high tolerance, but then it had been a while since he’d had a proper night of drinking- he used to share a bottle of bourbon with Bones in his office at least once a week, but that had become a lot rarer since most of his downtime was spent with Spock now.

He thinks of Spock: how surprisingly soft his fingertips were, how they felt against his own calloused palms, how strong those arms were when they held him down…

He shakes his head- what was he doing? He was on the job, he couldn’t be mooning about like some lovestruck, horny teenager. Him and Spock were better than that- yes, they were the most important people in each other’s lives, but they never let it interfere with their work.

He raises his head, and tries to say something to the princess, enquire about her father’s health maybe, but whatever words were going to come out are stopped in their tracks as he takes her in: of course, he’d realised from the moment he met her that she was a beautiful woman, but right now, she seemed to be glowing, candlelight flickering in her large black eyes. Her exposed collarbone seemed so pretty and delicate, and as his eyes drifted down to her breasts, he felt the urge to brush his hands against that soft, supple skin…

She notices where his eyeline is, and she smiles at him, delighted by his attention and she looks so beautiful and desirable it makes Jim physically ache…

Jim starts shaking- what was wrong with him? All the voices around him were muffled, his vision blurry, colours and shapes around him with no real form… the only thing clear and sharp was the beautiful woman sat in front of him, that sweet smile on her face.

He gulps- it’s so very, very hot.

He reaches for his water, but knocks over his wine instead, the crystal splintering into a million pieces, the scarlet liquid staining the white tablecloth, spreading out in a hideous pattern that reminded him of blood splatter. He thinks he got some on her dress and he’s trying to say sorry, but he can’t hear himself, it’s like he’s underwater, the only sound the blood rushing through his head. He thinks he can hear someone laughing, at him maybe, but he’s not sure, he’s not sure of anything.

Then, just as suddenly, everything is too loud. Every clink of silverware, every roaring laugh, the squeak of a waiter’s shoe on polished tile, it grated, made his hair stand on end, overwhelming panic filling him. He stares at the woman in front of him, and as he focuses on her, the rest of the world mercifully melts away, he is just left with her beauty, her sweet scent, the smooth timbre of her voice… she is the only real thing in the room, the only thing protecting him from this madness.

She strokes his hand, and he clasps it back hard, running his rough thumb over her perfectly smooth skin. Her foot touches his leg, sliding up and down, and now she is sliding it in between his legs, pressing and pressing, and he knows there is a reason he shouldn’t be allowing this, but he cannot find it in himself to care, her simple touch is releasing him of this pain, this frustration, this overwhelming heat…

Her touch leaves him, and he feels himself panic, but a moment later she’s pulling him up from his seat. She asks him if he wants to dance, and he just nods dumbly, letting her lead him out onto the floor. He’ll go wherever she will go, as long as she keeps touching him.

There are other people around him, he thinks he hears someone say his name, but none of them feel real. There is only him and her and as she guides him into an embrace, slowly swaying together to the sound of twinkling piano keys, he finds himself running his hands down her bare back, feeling her curves, enjoying the soft gasps she makes as he squeezes hard…

Then, she kisses him. And he kisses back, groaning into her mouth, wanting to breathe her air, licking inside her mouth, wanting to taste her, his hands running all over her body…

He has to have her; he wants her all over him, closer than this, deeper than this…

He can still feel the sense of wrongness, that something was telling him he should not want this, but he does not want to listen to it. Not when this felt so good, so perfect, she was the only thing grounding him in this chaos.

He needed to consume, conquer, make her his own…

She plants a kiss on his neck, and starts running her long claws up underneath his shirt…

He is screaming, but there is no sound, he is back in the darkness, falling upwards…

********************************************************************************

“NO! STOP!”, he finally hears himself yell, as his eyes fly wide open, his body still heavy and sluggish.

But to his relief the sound is back, and he sees the outline of the dimly lit room- however, he also hears the sound of someone groaning in pain.

And he’s pretty sure it’s not him.

“Vee!”, he hears Aurora yelp, and suddenly the lights are back on full blast, blinding him. It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust, but when they finally do, he sees Dr T’Vina hunched over a desk in the corner of the room, hand over her face, Aurora with a steady hand on her partner’s back.

“Are you okay? Do I need to get a medic, or…”

“That would be unnecessary.”, T’Vina says in her typical monotone, pushing herself up and straightening her back, looking every inch the professional Vulcan. “I have looked inside my own mind and see no signs of damage. I should do a check on Captain Kirk too, if he will allow me…”

“Wait, what happened…”, Jim starts to say, but stops when he sees T’Vina turn around, her face expressionless, a stream of dark green blood flowing down from her right nostril. “Dr T’Vina, you’re hurt!”

“Not in any substantial way Captain Kirk.”, she says flatly, sitting herself beside him, dabbing at her nose with a tissue. “The telekinetic backlash caused by your mind rejecting my presence resulted in some pressure changes in the front of my face- this caused some minor blood vessels in the lining of my nose to burst. The bleeding will cease in a few minutes.”

“Oh…”, Jim stares, feeling extremely guilty. “I’m so sorry…”

“It is illogical to apologise, Captain.”, Dr T’Vina retorts, cutting him off. “You are not responsible for how your mind decides to react in a coma-adjacent state- if anything I am at fault for not taking more precautions. The likelihood of the mind lashing out at a perceived invader is greatly increased when dealing with memories that cause great emotional distress. I should have proceeded more cautiously, or given you a higher relaxant dosage to begin with. I am fortunate I only received a minor nose bleed. Now…”, T’Vina raises her hand and holds it up to Jim’s face. “… please allow me to check your mind for any significant damage.”

Jim complies quickly, still feeling bad despite T’Vina’s insistence it was illogical, and after a few seconds the hand is removed.

“He has suffered no injury.”, she says assuredly.

“Good.”, Aurora says, breathing a sigh of relief. “Jeez, that was scary- did you get everything you need?”

“ ‘Need’ is a very relative term detective… the full memory was not recovered, due to the premature removal of my presence from Captain Kirk’s mind. We have enough to arrest a suspect, but without the full memory, the likelihood of him being charged in court for the full extent of his crimes is greatly reduced.”

“Wait, so who’s the suspect?”

“Admiral Stephen Henson.”, Jim answers before T’Vina can, his voice tinged with venom,  fists clenched as he imagines smashing them into his smug, stupid face, over and over again.

“Henson…”, Aurora whispers, her face going grey. “… one of our own people. This is… I knew there was always a chance someone from Starfleet might be involved, but I had hoped…” She shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t matter what I hoped. Captain Kirk, if you would like to come through with me, so we can amend your initial report to include…”

“The rest of his memory should be recovered, Detective Aurora.”, T’Vina cuts her off, pressing another clean tissue to the side of her nose. “You know as well as I do that in cases like this, incomplete memories are often used to discount the accuser’s testimony.”

“But if we have undeniable proof that Henson was the one who drugged him…”

“The holes in his memory will be used to discount my testimony- the defence may claim that my extraction was faulty, that I was seeing events out of order. I require a full timeline of events if we are to successfully charge Admiral Henson; as an influential figure within Starfleet, he will have the best defence available, you know this to be true.”

“I still don’t think it is necessary…”

“Do I get a say?”, Jim interrupts, raising his eyebrows at the two of them. Aurora looks fairly bashful to be caught arguing with her work partner in front of him, while T’Vina remains impassive. “Sorry, it’s just… I want to understand here- if you give your testimony as it stands Dr T’Vina, what is the likelihood Henson would be charged in court?”

Dr T’Vina considers a moment, before responding:

“Based on historical data from the last fifty years and my own experience working on similar cases, I would estimate thirty-two percent.”

Aurora scoffs.

“Surely it would not be that low…”

“As I said detective, without the full memory…”

“Yes, yes…”, Jim interrupts again, waving his hand. “And what is the likelihood with the full memory and testimony?”

“My estimate is ninety-two percent.”

“T’Vina…”, Aurora gives her partner a warning glare. “I don’t know where you’re pulling those numbers from, but I’m telling you, the risk is unnecessary. You have already been forcefully pulled from Captain’s Kirks mind, who’s to say it won’t happen again…”

“My mind is more acclimatised to the inner workings of his mind now, there are fewer unknown variables- and we can double the relaxant dose to ensure he remains unreactive.”

“You still risk harming him and yourself!”

“It is unlikely.”

“But not impossible!”

“There is always a risk…”

As the two women continue to argue back and forth, Jim lays back in the chair and thinks to himself: what he had seen already in the vision was already horrifying, watching himself turn into a mindless creature driven only by pleasure and instinct, throwing himself upon that woman, thinking of nothing else, and he knew only worse was yet to come. He imagined having to relive it, as if for the first time again and he shudders…

… but then he remembers Henson smirking at him over the rim of his glass, his little beady eyes full of glee, and he clenches his fists again.

He could not allow him to walk free on some damn technicality.

“Dr T’Vina.”, he says forcefully, pausing the two detective’s heated debate. “I would like you to try and extract the full memory, if you can- please take any precautions you must to ensure your safety.”

“Of course Captain.”, T’Vina nods, going over to the corner of the room, while Aurora looks on, exasperated. “Just allow me to increase the dosage of the relaxant, and then we can begin.”

Aurora turns towards him, her eyes desperate:

“Captain, I really think you should reconsider…”

“I’ve made up my mind detective. I’m sorry.”, he looks over at her, his face despondent. “… I will do my best to remain unreactive this time.”

“Captain Kirk, I…”, Aurora shakes her head, her shoulders deflated. “It’s not just that. Even assuming the rest of the procedure works perfectly… remembering the rest of that night will likely be extremely traumatic for you.”

“I know.”, Jim nods, taking the offered glass of cloudy water from T’Vina, who continues to stare blankly down at the two of them. “But I need to do this- if Henson can do this to his own colleagues, who knows who else he’s hurt over the years? If we can get him now, we can probably get justice for a hell of a lot more people than just me.”

Aurora nods in understanding, but her expression is sombre as she walks back towards the console to dim the lights again. She’s clearly not happy with his decision, but he cannot let himself worry about that now.

Jim drinks the solution and allows himself to settle back, and he feels it begin to work immediately- after just a minute he is unable move so much as a muscle.

“Captain Kirk…”, T’Vina whispers, her fingers pressed lightly across his meld points. “Please blink twice when you feel you are ready to begin…”

He does so, but it is with great difficulty, as his eyelids feel like they have weights on them right now.

“Very well.”, she nods, pressing her fingers in ever so slightly, the tips warming up again. “Then we will begin…”

Closing his eyes, Jim lets himself fall into the darkness again.

Chapter Text

It had not taken Spock long to submit the evidence and take a witness statement, and as he wanders back into the waiting room, he’s keenly aware that only half an hour has passed since Jim had been taken away by the detectives. As a Vulcan, it would be illogical of him to experience boredom or anxiety as he waited for Jim to return, though he confessed he could not help but will the minutes to go by just a little bit faster. He tried to go into a semi-meditative state, but it was difficult to achieve while seated upright in a chair, and he did not think it socially acceptable to sit himself cross-legged on the resin waiting room floor.

The young Bajoran working at the front desk kept sneaking glances at him, and Spock simply looks ahead, doing his best not to make eye contact, fearing it would invite an opening to ‘small talk’. The young man had a very chaotic way of working, his fingers stabbing loudly on his touchscreen like he was trying to break it and accidentally putting three of the incoming calls to the front desk on speakerphone. Spock could not help but wonder how someone with basically no administrational skills had managed to obtain a secretarial position, but he supposed it was easy enough to lie on a job application if you were not a Vulcan.

After another half hour of waiting, an older woman enters the room to tell the Bajoran that she’ll be taking over now and he can go home for the day. The young man nods gratefully, grabbing his backpack and a coffee flask from under the desk and starts making his way over to the front door. However, just as he’s passing by Spock, he seems to stumble over an untied shoelace, and falls to the ground in front of him, spilling lukewarm coffee all over his lap. Spock just sits there slightly baffled for a moment, before leaping up and helping the young man to his feet, who is already apologising profusely:

“I’m so sorry sir, I don’t know what happened there… oh, I’m so sorry, your trousers!”

“It is quite alright.”, Spock says impassively, removing his hand from his arm. “You should always check your laces are tied in future.”

“Yes, yes, of course!”, the young man splutters, his expression bashful. “So stupid of me! Here, let me get you a tissue to clean up at least…”

Spock is about to say it’s unnecessary but he’s already shoving a package of tissues into his hands, along with… something else.

Before he even has a chance to say anything, the young man is walking away, the metal door closing behind him, leaving Spock standing there with a pack of tissues and a small brown envelope clasped in his hand. He is not certain, but he does not think the Bajoran had given the envelope to him accidentally. He looks back at the front desk, but the older woman does not seem to have noticed their exchange, busy with her proficient typing.

Spock sits himself down again and gives the envelope a sniff: he does not smell any poisonous or irritant substances, and as he carefully presses his fingers against the sides, he can feel what seems to be a small piece of card inside. He delicately opens the flap and takes out what seems to be a business card for a local bar: ‘THE GAMMA STATION’ it reads in shiny yellow, holographic letters. Frowning, Spock flips the card around, and sees that someone has scribbled out a message in black pen, the handwriting messy and spiky:

‘JT KIRK. MEET HERE TONIGHT.

ASK FOR TABLE 40.

HELP THE PEOPLE OF VALLEN.’

Spock hazards a glance at the front desk, but the woman working pays him no attention, and he finds it unlikely she’s involved in whatever this is. He discretely hides away the card in his jacket pocket, and vows to investigate this curiosity later.

Right now, he had other priorities.

After another ten minutes, he hears the swish of a door opening at the end of the corridor, and he stands himself up, hoping it’s Jim. Detective Aurora enters the room, a friendly smile on her face but there’s some tension around her eyes and a tiredness that had not been present previously.

“Commander Spock.”, she nods at him, doing her best attempt at the Vulcan salute, which he returns. “I’m happy to say the procedure is now over- Captain Kirk’s memories are now fully recovered and Dr T’Vina is now writing up her findings. They will be added to the initial report as soon as she’s done.”

“How is he?”, Spock asks, a little worried Jim had not come back into the waiting room with her.

“Physically, he is fine. There was a moment where his mind rejected Dr T’Vina’s touch, but thankfully no harm was done to the Captain. As for his emotional well-being, well…”, she looks up at him, her expression grim. “Well, you know what he came in for. He is a resilient man, but what he had to relive today would be a lot for anyone to endure. We are happy to provide whatever aftercare is needed, such as a specialised therapy programme, or a doctor’s referral…”

“Thank you, detective, but I already have our medical team back on the Enterprise looking into obtaining such resources- I will, of course, be in touch if we require anything from your people.” He looks past the detective, down the corridor towards the door she had just emerged from. “Is Captain Kirk still in there?”

“Yes. He said that he… needed a moment. But that he wanted to speak with you. Alone.”  She extends out a hand and indicates for him to follow her. He does so, his pace slightly outmatching that of the detective’s, desperate as he was to see Jim and ensure for himself that he was physically unharmed. The detective presses her hand to the panel and the door swishes open, and he briefly nods in thanks, before quickly striding into the room. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, as the room is still dimly lit, but he can make out Jim sat up on the side of a chaise lounge, his back to him, head lowered, his arms straight and rigid. As the door swishes close behind him, Jim turns his head to look at him, and even the low light, Spock can see the signs of distress: the hollow eyes, the greyish tint to his skin and a tightness in his facial muscles, like he was doing his best to keep some strong emotion down.

“Hey, Spock…”, Jim croaks in greeting, like it hurts to speak, a pained smile on his face.

“T’hy’la…”, Spock whispers, walking quickly over to his side, crouching down and clasping his hand. He rubs two of his fingers over his palm, doing his best to emit soothing thoughts through his skin. “How are you feeling?”

“Why ask, Spock? Can’t you just read my mind?”, he says tersely, wincing like he has some minor migraine.

“Jim…”

Sighing, Jim shrugs, a heaviness and sluggishness to his movements that suggested he was still feeling the aftereffects of the relaxant.

“I’m not going to lie, Spock, I feel like hell. Not the worst I’ve ever felt, but still… it’s not exactly a fun time in here.”, he smiles wearily, looking up at him as he taps the side of his head. He smirks a little, but there is no humour to be found in his expression. “At least you get to say, ‘I told you so’, right?”

Spock just shakes his head, and runs a hand gently over Jim’s cheek, and that’s all it takes for him to break completely: his face crumples, eyes welling up with tears and deep, guttural noises start emerging from his chest. He collapses into Spock’s arms and for a while they stay like that in the semi-darkness, Jim sobbing into his chest while Spock holds him close, rubbing smooth circles onto his back. The emotions that emit from Jim in such close proximity are upsetting and a little overwhelming, but he makes no effort to put up a shield- he needed to feel him, to understand even a small part of what he was going through.

His t’hy’la needed him, and whatever came after this, he would be at his side.

**********************************************************************************

After finishing their business at the police station, the two of them wander down to the shore of the artificial lake, looking out at the red sky, tinged with pink streaks and a blood orange moon. Jim starts picking up stones and tries to skim them, though he finds only a few that are of an appropriate shape, so most just sink immediately. Spock checks his PADD for shuttle times,, glancing up at Jim who has given up trying to skim stones, and is just picking up the heaviest rocks he can and throwing them as far as he is able, enjoying the way the still water rippled as they broke the surface.

“The next shuttle will leave in thirty-seven minutes Captain- we should start making our way back now.”

Jim raises an eyebrow at him.

“Thought we were going to stop by a teahouse before we went?”

“Perhaps another day, Captain.”, Spock says apologetically, putting his PADD back inside his jacket. “It is getting late, and you require rest.”

“You make me sound like an overstimulated toddler.”, he mutters, throwing one more rock, before sighing and taking a step back from the water’s edge. “But, yes, I see your logic. Today was a lot… but I don’t regret it, you know? Not if it gets that bastard Henson behind bars…”

“Yes.”, Spock nods, walking over to him and stroking his hand. “And to be clear, I did not mean to coddle you in any way, that was not my intent. I am simply… ensuring you take all the necessary steps to aid in your recovery.”

“I’ll be fine, Spock.”, he sniffs, running his thumb over his knuckles. “I’ve been through worse, a lot worse than this…”

“A broken thumb is preferable to a broken leg- it does not mean that either outcome is desirable.”

Jim snorts at that.

“Yes, well… I’m not saying we’re ever going to look back at this one day and laugh, but hopefully in a few months, it’ll feel less fresh…”

A silence falls between them as they look out onto the lake together, at the still reflection of the red mountains and the orange moon on the water’s surface. Spock regards him carefully before speaking again:

“If you don’t mind me asking, t’hy’la… would you be comfortable sharing your memories with me once we get back to our quarters? I will ensure the transfer is only one way, so you don’t have to experience them again…”

Jim tenses at the question.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea Spock… you won’t like what you see.”

“Of course I will not like it Jim… but what I dislike more is you sharing this burden alone.”

He shakes his head.

“Spock, I… don’t want you to see me… the way I was that night. It was like… I was some kind of animal, and I felt myself… fucking her, for hours and hours, and it was endless, insatiable- I couldn’t think about anything else. Even though I was looking out of his eyes, and I know it was me, it didn’t feel like me. Everything that makes me, me was gone- I was just some crazed vessel, just chasing whatever felt good, nothing else seemed to matter.  And I felt everything Spock- every touch, every smell, every taste… I remember it all. And I felt myself… enjoy it.” He hangs his head low in shame and disgust, his breathing suddenly unsteady. “I felt the way my body reacted to her…”

“Jim, it wasn’t you- you were drugged. McCoy and myself explained the effects, how it alters your behaviour…”

“Yes, yes, I know, but… it’s different hearing about how it works and actually feeling it. I… hate myself for how easily I succumbed to it, how I didn’t even try to fight it. Like I… wanted it.”

Spock shakes his head and puts his hands on his shoulders.

“Do not hate yourself for this, Jim. You were not in control of yourself…”

“But at the end of the day, the drug only altered my brain chemistry slightly, temporarily- I was literally back to the normal by the morning. What if I could’ve… stopped myself, if I had tried harder…”

“Jim.”, Spock says firmly, making him turn his head to look at him. “Remember the day I made you take me to Vulcan, when I was going through ponn farr?”

He stares at him, bewildered by the sudden change of subject.

“It’s… kind of a difficult day to forget Spock. For a whole host of reasons…”

“Jim, that day, there was a moment, before I came to my senses, when I looked down at what I thought was your dead body on the ground, and you know what I felt? Triumph. I did not think of you as my captain, or as my friend- I saw you only as a rival, an obstacle between me and my mate… and I felt no regret as I saw the life leave your eyes, in fact I felt pride. And you cannot fathom how much that shamed me- it took me a long time to forgive myself.”

“Spock.”, he whispers, putting his hands on his face, staring into his black voids. “You…  were in a blood rage, you weren’t yourself, I know that…”

“So you do not blame for nearly killing you? That I even took pleasure in it, however briefly?”

“Of course not! You weren’t in control of yourself, the pon farr was messing with your head…”

Spock just continues to look at him, a sad expression on his face.

“So you do not blame me for my actions, because they were outside my control…”, he whispers, leaning into his touch. “… so why do you blame yourself, t’hy’la?”

Jim just blinks at him, at a loss for words as he stares into Spock’s eyes, steady and focussed, his attention only on him. Suddenly, Jim surges forward and crashes his lips against his, clasping the back of his head as Spock puts his hands around his waist to steady himself.

After a while, they come apart again, gasping for air as Jim leaves his arms wrapped around Spock’s neck, looking into his beautiful face.

He lightly pecks him on the nose, closing his eyes as he murmurs softly: “I love you so much...”

Spock gives him a small smile and brushes his lips against Jim’s forehead.

“Your affection is very much reciprocated.”

Jim laughs against his neck, but then he stops suddenly, raising an eyebrow as he inhales an unexpected scent.

“Hey, you kind of smell of… coffee? I thought you didn’t drink it…”

“Correct. The beverage was not mine- the young man working reception spilt it on me on his way out the door.” He hesitates before elaborating: “I believe he did it deliberately.”

“What? Why?”, Jim frowns.

“He handed me a pack of tissues- along with this.”

He hands Jim the business card and he watches as his face scrunches in confusion as he reads the message on the back.

“ ‘Help the people of Vallen?’ What does that mean? Do you think it has anything to do with the alliance?”

“I find it very likely, Captain.”, Spock says curtly, hands behind his back. “Though why they would take such a roundabout way of delivering such a brief and cryptic message, I am not certain.”

“Yes, it is rather… paranoid. Perhaps for good reason…”, Jim considers, flipping round the card and running his finger over the name of the bar. “… an enemy of the royals, maybe? So, that could make them a friend or foe to us, it’s hard to say…”

“Captain?”, Spock raises an eyebrow at him “Are you suggesting we report this to Starfleet?”

“No… well, not yet anyway. I think we need to investigate this for ourselves first, see if it’s just someone’s idea of a joke or not… how do you feel about taking a quick detour to ‘The Gamma Station’?”

“Jim- this could be a trap.”, Spock points out. “It was widely publicised that you attended the diplomacy meetings last weekend on Vallen- perhaps someone is using this knowledge to gauge your interest and hope you ‘take the bait’, so to speak.”

“I’m aware that’s a possibility Spock- but it’s not like we’re heading into a back alley or someone’s dilapidated basement. This is a bar, a public space, with security, cameras and everything. And I promise you, first sign of anything potentially dangerous, we’ll be out of there quicker than you can say ‘I told you so’.”

Spock looks unconvinced.

"We are supposed to be catching the shuttle back in the next half-hour.”

Jim shrugs.

“So? We’ll get the one after that- they’re pretty regular.”

“Jim…”, Spock exhales, looking at a space just behind his head. “Does it occur to you that your keenness to follow this lead is simply a way of distracting yourself from your own personal issues?”

“And now you’re starting to sound like Bones! And even if that’s true… come on Spock, this is interesting!”, he exclaims, spinning the business card through his fingers. “You’re telling me that there’s no part of you that is just a little bit curious?”

Spock stares at him a little while, blank-faced, his face unreadable even to Jim. After what feels like a minute, Spock just sighs and pulls out his PADD again, flicking through the electronic pages with his pen:

“We should catch the shuttle that is due in ninety-seven minutes”, he informs Jim, a slight line between his brows. “Any later would be inadvisable, Captain, as data shows the likelihood of departure delays from this planet increase ten-fold after sunset.”

A big grin lights up Jim’s face and he reaches up to give Spock a quick peck on the cheek:

“Love you, sweetheart!”

Spock just gives him a swift nod, as he flatly responds:

“I am aware, Jim.”

Chapter Text

The bar turned out to be a recently converted old docking station, with most of the inside décor consisting of exposed metal piping, steel walls and floor to ceiling-length lava lamps; they emitted a warm reddish glow across the entire establishment, making one feel like they were wandering around the inside of a volcano that happened to serve drinks. The music playing on the speakers was a strange jazz-electronica fusion that Jim found he did not hate, and the staff and cliental were extremely diverse in terms of species- he even thinks he spots a few androids getting down on the dance floor, their movements jerky and regular.

He had given his name and table number to the bouncer working out front, and an Orion waitress had led them downstairs to where the bar’s restaurant was located. As they sit themselves down in the booths, she hands them each their menus and tells them to call her over when they’re ready to order.

As she walks away to tend to other tables, Jim pipes up enthusiastically: “Good selection here! And a lot of vegetarian options, if you’re feeling peckish...”

“Captain… may I remind you our purpose in coming here was not ‘dinner’.”, Spock says dryly, placing his own electronic menu down on the table.

“I know…”, Jim shrugs. “But we don’t know when our mystery person is gonna arrive, and I’ve always been curious about what snail steak tastes like…”

“I’ve been told it is rather tough in texture, Captain.”

“Well then, maybe the jumbo mollusk…”

“Hi!”, a loud, enthusiastic voice suddenly chirps up, startling Jim as he looks up to see the blonde Bajoran from the police station beaming down widely at the two of them, dressed in the denim jumpsuit that all the wait staff here seemed to sport as a uniform. “Can I get you two something to drink?”

Jim raises an eyebrow at him, a somewhat amused smile on his face.

“Fancy seeing you again!”

“Indeed, sir.”

“So…”, Jim gestures at his uniform.  “You work here as well? They don’t pay you enough down at the station?”

“A lot of people have more than one job to get by, sir- not everyone has the luxury of a captain’s salary.”, the Bajoran responds brightly, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“Still… when do you find time to sleep?”

“Usually at work, sir- there’s a very cozy laundry room out back. I could show you sometime…”, he winks. “Now, can I get you two gentlemen something to drink while you peruse our menu selection?”

“Well…”, Jim glances over quickly at Spock, who is just staring blankly at the young man, a slight tightness to his mouth that tells him he is completely unamused by the whole situation. “… I guess I’ll just have a water, and Spock… is it tea you want?”

“Vulcan spiced tea- if you have it.”, he responds curtly, looking the Bajoran up and down.

“Ah yes, I believe we have a tin of that out back!”, their waiter grins, tapping at his tablet before putting it back in his pocket. “Won’t be a moment, gentlemen!”

As he walks away, a slight skip in his step, Jim turns back to face Spock, who still looks like he’s sucking on a lemon.

“Hey- you alright?”, Jim asks, tilting his head in concern.

“I am perfectly adequate Jim- though I do confess finding the way this young man chooses to engage with us somewhat… frustrating. Why does he not just tell us why he brought us here, rather than going through all this inefficient back-and-forth?”

“I’m not sure, Spock.”, Jim says, craning his head around to look for any sign of their mysterious waiter’s current whereabouts. “But I do get the feeling he likes playing the part of a spy; whether he actually is… that remains to be seen. For all we know, he could just be having fun with us…”

“From the way he was looking at you, Captain, he is looking to have fun with one of us…”

Jim’s head snaps back at him, surprised by the subtly bitter note present in his first officer’s typical monotone. Then, his words finally click, and Jim cannot help but emit a deep chuckle, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Why, Mr. Spock… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous!”

“Jealousy is a completely illogical response to this situation, Captain.”, Spock responds emotionlessly, though Jim can spot the tips of his ears colouring slightly. “I am simply saying that the young man has not exactly endeared himself to me this evening by acting so… coquettishly around you. It is rather unnecessary and demeaning.”

At that, Jim lets out a big belly laugh while Spock just continues to stare forward, unamused.

“You are jealous! Oh my, I should take you out like this more often, I enjoy seeing you all possessive…”

“Here are your drinks, gentlemen!”, the Bajoran smiles at two of them, plonking their drinks down on the table, only spilling his water slightly. His sudden return had surprised even Spock and it occurred to Jim he certainly had a talent for sneaking up on people. “Have you decided what you want to eat?”

“Uh, yes...”, Jim mutters, casting his eye back down on the menu. “I’ll have the mollusk with a side of fried potatoes, and Mr. Spock…”

“… the mixed green salad. No dressing. Thank you.”, Spock mutters, giving their waiter a pointed stare, who quickly gets the hint and leaves to put in their order, just as Jim notices the folded bit of paper left beside his own drink. Unfolding it, the message reads simply: ‘My next break is in 15 mins- meet me out back. Go through the emergency exit. If anyone asks, you’re having a smoke.’

“Huh.”, Jim ponders, before handing the paper over for Spock to read. “What do you reckon? Do we risk it? Or do we just stay here and enjoy our food?”

“That would be the safer option, Captain. I do suspect the young man has no useful information for us, he may even be working for nefarious agents…”

“… or maybe this is his way of flirting? Getting me on my own so I can have my wicked way with him?”, Jim smirks, playfully tapping him on the finger. “That does sound equally likely…”

“Jim…”, Spock shoots him a warning glare.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing…”, Jim concedes, putting his hands up, though he is still grinning. “But in all seriousness, we’ve gotten this far, we might as well see it through… if things get messy, well, we’ll deal with it like we always do. I’ve seen you take on ten burly guys at once with your hands tied behind your back, and I’m charming- plus, it doesn’t hurt to have Starfleet on our speed dial. First sign things are going wrong, we set off the emergency signal on our communicators. Promise.”

Spock gives a large exhale, before somehow sitting himself up even straighter, his hands clasped in his lap.

“We should also make sure we have our phasers at the ready, Captain- set them to stun.”, he says, casting an eye towards the back of the room where the exit resides, the luminous sign glowing above the door.

“Agreed.”, Jim nods at him, feeling inside his pocket for said item. “I don’t know what we’re walking into, but between the two of us, any bastard would have a hard time taking us down…”

“Your food, gentlemen.”, the Orion waitress suddenly appears, placing their dishes before them. She takes a step back from the table, hands in her pockets as she asks: “Do you require anything else? Sauces, maybe? More water?”

“Uh, actually… I think we’ve changed our mind about sitting in.”, Jim smiles apologetically, before gesturing at the food. “Can we take this all to go please? And make it a fifty percent tip, thanks.”

Chapter Text

They find him just outside the exit, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, face contemplative in the fading light. The Bajoran nods over at them as they approach, his previously sunny demeanour replaced with a cagey, guarded stance. It occurs to Jim that his change in manner makes him seem much more older, less carefree and foolhardy.

Like he had been playing a part...

He glances behind them nervously: “Did anyone notice you go out the back?”

“I don’t think so…”, Jim shakes his head, squinting his eyes at him in the dying light. “Anyway, what’s this all about? What do you…”

“No. Not here.”, he mutters, straining his neck as he looks back and forth, clearly on high alert. “Just… follow me please, it’s just round the corner…”, he says, pushing himself off the wall, and making his way round the side of the building.

“What is?”, Jim frowns as he hurries after him, Spock quick on his trail, hand ready on his phaser gun.

“The laundry room.”, he answers as he reaches a heavy-looking metal door, taking out a key card and pressing it on the scanner. There’s a sudden click and a green light starts flashing. He smirks over at Kirk: “I did say I would show you, Captain…”

He pulls the door open, and the smell of fresh linen and fabric soften emerges from the entrance.  The Bajoran indicates for the two of them to go inside and Jim just stares at him, baffled.

“You expect us to just walk in there? How do we know you’ll not just lock us in? Or that there isn’t someone in there waiting to jump us?”

“Yes, that is a risk, Captain.”, the Bajoran shrugs, his one golden earring glinting in the light of the setting sun. “But if it eases your mind, I am entirely trustworthy, I assure you. On my mother’s life…”

“Do you even have a mother?”, Jim asks cynically.

“Yes, Captain. Horrible woman- refuses to die. Anyway…”, he puts his hand out again, face expectant. “… please, enter.”

Jim glances behind at Spock, who just raises an eyebrow at him, his way of saying: ‘your call.’

Sighing, Jim puts his hand on his own phaser, and walks through the open doorway, Spock following closely behind, the Bajoran a few steps after.

Jim’s first impression was that this was very much a typical laundry room, with washing machines and dryers whirring and buzzing away against one wall, and piles of table cloths and dish towels piled up along the other side. The harsh yellow lighting hurts Jim’s eyes and there’s a stuffiness to the windowless room that makes him desperately want to sneeze, but he holds it in. He looks over at Spock, who seems just as confused as he is- why had they been brought here?

As if answering his question, the Bajoran suddenly calls out, his voice reverberating throughout the room:

“Meeriana? It’s just me. I’ve brought him- and a friend. You can come out… pretty sure they weren’t followed.”

“‘Pretty sure’?”, a husky, feminine voice answers sceptically. It was difficult to tell with all the machines going, but Jim was pretty sure it was coming from behind one of the many giant towel forts. “Not very reassuring Kol…”

The Bajoran, who was presumably named ‘Kol’, just rolls his eyes.

“Well, they’re aware you’re here now anyway- may as well show yourself.”

After a beat, a figure steps out from behind a towel rack, her heavy boots clunking against the smooth linoleum. She walks over to them, her posture rigid and guarded, and she stops to look the two of them up and down. Jim does the same with her, studying her appearance: a very tall, very muscular Vallen woman, her skin a dark midnight blue, almost indigo in some places. Her black curly hair was shaved on one side, and she wore only a thin vest and leather trousers, showing off the many tattoos splayed across her toned arms and shoulders. Jim recognised a few of them as traditional Vallen warrior tattoos, his knowledge mainly coming from a brief history module he did back at the academy.

The most noticeable thing about her, however, was the scarring.

If he had to guess, he would wager she had been burnt in the past, and badly by the looks of it, certainly to the third degree- the entire left side of her body was covered in raised, shiny scars that looked like they’d split open and burst with the lightest touch, and half her face had been essentially mutilated, black-blue splotches twisting her features, one nostril fused completely closed. One side of her lips were peeled back, revealing dark blue gums and pointed teeth- it made it look like she had a permanent sneer. She had a prosthetic eye, but it didn’t match the one staring out at them from her unburnt side at all: sky blue rather than endless blackness. It also looked like it had been put in rather shoddily, permanently bugging out of its socket like she was constantly surprised. The overall result was that she could only show expression on one side of her face, one upturned, catlike eye giving them the lookover, half of her mouth set in a thin line.

“Well, he does look like the photos…”, she considers, looking Kirk up and down. “… but what about him?”, she cocks her head at Spock. “I don’t recognise that one…”

“Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise, science officer and first officer, second in command to Captain James T. Kirk.”, Spock says politely, giving her a brief Vulcan salute. “May I enquire who you are?”

“Meeriana. Don’t really have any official titles right now, but I guess some would call me an outlaw.”, she shrugs, looking over her shoulder to see where the Bajoran is still stood near the door. “It’s alright Kol- I can take it from here. I know you got tables to wait…”

“Okay Meeriana- give me a shout if you need anything.”, he nods before making his swift exit, door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the two men with the striking woman, her gaze steely and penetrating.

“Well then…”, she says, taking another step towards them. “… thanks for agreeing to come out here gentleman, I know Kol can be…”, she pauses, frowning as her one remaining nostril starts working away. “Wait, why can I smell fish?”

Jim blinks at her, then remembers the wrapped food he’s still holding.

“Ah, right, we… uh… ordered stuff while we were waiting, but we didn’t get a chance to eat it.”, he murmurs bashfully, holding out the package to her. “Are you wanting some?”

She raises her one good eyebrow, clearly slightly amused by his frankness.

“What is it?”

“Jumbo Romulan mollusk- it’s not to everyone’s taste but if you’d like to try, it’s still warm…”

“Sure. I could eat.”, she shrugs, turning on her heel and heading towards the back. “Let me just pull out a few crates and we can have a real cozy get-together.”

A minute later, they have three smaller crates surrounding a larger crate, making up a makeshift dining table. Meeriana and Jim tuck into their mollusk and potatoes with wooden forks, while Spock pokes at his salad, looking thoroughly unimpressed by yet another delay to the proceedings.

“Hmmm…”, Meeriana hums appreciatively, her mouth slightly full. “This is very good actually. This new cook really knows what he’s doing- the other one always overcooked the meat…”

“You been staying here long then?”, Jim asks, looking around the cramped, stuffy room. Wouldn’t exactly be his first choice of accommodation, but he supposed he did have more options than her at the moment.

“A few months…”, Meeriana confirms, popping another fried potato into her mouth, wincing slightly when it catches on the exposed burn on her upper lip. “Longest I’ve stayed anywhere for a while to be honest. Usually they track me down after only a few weeks- Kol must be working overtime to make sure no one finds me here…”

“‘They’?”, Jim asks, tilting his head at her. “Who’s ‘they’? And why are they after you?”

“The Vallen royal family…”, she says casually like she’s just talking about the weather, still eating. “… though I guess if you want to get more specific, their spies and bounty hunters. They would never get their own hands dirty…”

“Right.”, Jim nods, his eyebrows crinkling. “You… are aware you’re telling this to a Starfleet captain, right? That I work for the Federation, that we literally agreed to form an alliance with said royal family less than a week ago?”

She shrugs.

“You going to report me, Captain?”

“No. Well…”, Jim reconsiders. “… depends on what you did to hack the Vallen royals off, I guess. I have no love for them, but the enemy of my enemy isn’t always my friend.”

“Fair enough- I can tell you my tale of woe, then you can make your mind up about me. Although…”, she narrows her eyes at Spock who is just staring at her impassively, salad box still mainly uneaten in his lap. “… what about him? He’s Vulcan, right? I can tell by the ears… I hear they’re sticklers for law and order.”

“Your generalisation, while not without some truth, is inaccurate, ma’am.”, Spock responds in his monotone. “Our culture strictly adheres to logic, which while has been known to coincide with intergalactic law, is not always the case. Captain Kirk here can tell you of the time I once hijacked his ship and kidnapped my previous captain for reasons that were entirely logical, but not altogether legal.”

Meeriana still looks unconvinced.

“You can have the rest of my salad.”, Spock offers, gingerly handing the paper box towards Meeriana who takes it happily, mixing the leaves into the remaining Romulan sauce.

“Okay then…”, she says, stabbing a piece of green lettuce with her fork. “So, you both agree to hear me out, and then you’ll decide whether or not to help us?”

“Help ‘us’? Not just ‘you’?”, Jim enquires, wiping his hands on the provided napkins. “There’s a group of you?”

Meeriana nods, chewing slowly and swallowing before answering:

“Yep. We call ourselves ‘The People of Vallen’ – P.O.V for short. Not a great name, but I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore, there’s so few of us left…”

“Left?”

She points at the burnt side of her face, her expression grim and pained.

“Let’s just say the royals aren’t kind to those they consider a terrorist organisation…”

“And you don’t consider yourselves that?”

“No- we prefer freedom fighters, or a liberation group- those who stand against the current tyranny of the Vallen government and the harm they do to their own people. Will continue to do so, if we don’t put a stop to them…”

Jim stares at her then back at Spock, who is listening with utmost interest now.

This had certainly escalated…

“Ma’am… Meeriana…”, he says slowly, leaning over the makeshift table slightly so he can look her in the eye. “I still don’t quite understand what you want from us- I’d never even heard of your group before now. If you’re wanting resources, I don’t really know how we can get that to your people without alerting Starfleet and subsequently the royals to your presence on this planet…”

“Oh, nothing like that, Captain Kirk. What I’m wanting is information.”

“Information?”, he says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes.”, she says simply, folding up the now empty food boxes, a satisfied look on her face. “I would like you to be our eyes and ears on the princess, along with the rest of her heinous family.”

“You mean…”

“I would like you to be a spy for the People of Vallen, Captain Kirk- we think you’d be a great asset.”

Jim stares at her gobsmacked, taken aback by the boldness of her request. His eyes flicker over to Spock who has one eyebrow raised at him, clearly intrigued to see what his response to such an outrageous ask will be. He almost got the feeling he was starting to enjoy this whole ordeal.

“Meeriana…”, Jim groans, rubbing his temples slowly. The yellow lighting was really starting to give him a migraine. “I think you’d better start from the beginning, before we go making any drastic decisions…”

Chapter Text

“From the beginning, right…”, Meeriana murmurs, leaning back in her seat, hands behind her head. “… well, I guess I should start by explaining how I got involved in all this mess in the first place. I was recruited by the P.O.V when I was just a teenager- I’d grown up on the streets, constantly starving, no family to speak of. That made me an ideal candidate for them: I was angry at the world, wanted to prove myself to anyone who would let me, and, most importantly, had nothing to lose- I was willing to put myself in any kind of danger, so long as it helped the cause. When they asked me to be a spy for them, I jumped at the opportunity: I joined the Vallen military, went through all the training programmes that would eventually land me a place as a guard in the palace. And for years, that’s what I did- I fed information back to the P.O.V members, stuff like the castle layout, the comings and goings of the royals, guard rotations… I let them know everything I could find, and slowly but surely, we started making headway- we leaked scandals, trade secrets, we even managed to get their Head of Defence court martialled under intergalactic law… every small blow against the royal family was beginning to add up, and they were getting scared. Their subjects were beginning to no longer see them as these invulnerable beings, but mortals, who could one day be overthrown and cast aside if the ordinary people willed it. At its most effective, the P.O.V had around five-thousand members working around the world, infiltrating all government sectors, and if we had continued down that path, I’m sure we could’ve successfully organised an official uprising within a few years. And nearly two years ago this night, Vallen’s main figure head, the King, had succumbed to his disease and fallen into a coma, his inexperienced daughter set to rule as regent in his steed….”, she trails off, a sudden strange look on her face, but she continues: “… so it was the perfect time to attempt something drastic- when they were at their most vulnerable, image-wise. It was supposed to be our time, the people’s time, to take our power back.” She sighs deeply, running a hand through her curls, a dejected look on her face. “And, well, that obviously didn’t happen. And it was my fault.”

“Your fault?”, Jim asks perplexedly.

She nods, turning her face from the two of them, only the burnt part showing.

“Yes… I got cocky, thought I was doing good work, when really… I was taking an unnecessary risk. I had a… contact that I thought I could trust, who was close to the royal family. They’d given me good information in the past, and helped me out of some sticky situations, so in my mind, they were above suspicion. How wrong I was…”

For a while she goes silent, her face strained as she’s clearly keeping back some overwhelming anguish, painful memories flitting through her mind. Jim tries to put a hand on her arm to comfort her, but she pushes him off, shaking her head profusely:

“I’m fine! It’s just… I keep going back to that day, you know? Going over all my mistakes, what I should’ve done… a pointless exercise, but it’s hard not to do…”

“I understand.”, Jim nods in sympathy. “That’s also a very human habit; I know it well…”

Spock gives him a small look but says nothing.

“Yeah, well, anyway…”, she sniffs, her voice slightly croaky. “… back to my tale of self-pity and woe. For context, the location of the P.O.V’s headquarters were changed every month as a safety measure- we couldn’t afford to be in any one place for long, the police and anyone else in the royal’s pockets were always on the lookout for us. We were never supposed to give out that month’s location to any non-members, but I… considered my contact an unofficial member at the time. So when they asked for the location of that month’s meeting place, I… gave it to them.” She looks up at the ceiling, her one black eye glassy as she whispers, her voice ladened with horror: “… I let them know where to find them.”

Jim inhales sharply, as he can already tell where this is going.

“There were… hundreds of us there that night, way busier than usual; we were celebrating a big win against the government and we were planning our next move. There were a lot of people who would spend the night at the meeting house anyway- a lot of us were homeless or on the run from the law. A lot of the people who’d stay over were very young members, some of them teenagers, kids…”, she shivers, wrapping her arms around herself, unspeakable horrors plaguing her: “… so many kids there that night...”

Her breathing is becoming very erratic and laboured, and Jim puts a comforting hand out, but doesn’t touch her this time:

“Hey, hey, take a few deep breaths… maybe you should take a break. This is clearly difficult for you…”

“I said I’m fine!”, she snaps suddenly, snarling and baring her pointed teeth. However, she quickly recovers herself, gazing at him apologetically as she puts a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I just… it’s a lot. And I haven’t talked about it in a while…”

“Sounds like it.”, Jim says grimly, handing her one of the clean napkins, which she takes. “Look, like I said, if you need to pause…”

“No. I want to… get it over with now.”, she whispers, one eye on the ceiling fan above. “I don’t know why this is so hard, I’ve gone through it in my head a thousand times before…”

“Doesn’t make it easier.”

“No. I guess it doesn’t.”, she shrugs, dabbing at the wetness under her one working eye. “But I should finish anyway. What happened was… well, first, the lights turned off in the whole place. I think they cut the power off to panic us, make us scatter all across the building… then there were the sound of gunshots, and that’s when everyone really started to panic. People made for the exits, but someone had barred them shut. And… and… that’s when we heard a bunch of sounds coming from the roof.” She takes a heavy breath before continuing: “… I remember just waiting, all of us crammed in there, waiting for whatever was coming. A lot of us were armed, but we had no idea what to expect, what their plan was, and… well, suddenly, there was a loud bang, and then the whole roof came down on top of us.” She looks down at her lap, her face a little green. “Those who died immediately from being crushed were lucky. Because then they just kept throwing more and more grenades down, and in less than a minute the whole building was alight… I saw people I’ve worked with for years, every inch of their body aflame, screaming and screaming and I… I tried to find a way out, to make people follow me, but the grenades kept coming and the building was collapsing, and I just couldn’t…”, she shakes her head, taking another deep breath, and continues: “… well, long story short, I was one of the few who managed to escape that night. Anyone else who managed to survive the blaze were rounded up by the royal’s mercenaries and tortured for information- they used that information to track down other P.O.V safehouses and do similar. Our numbers went from the thousands to the hundreds, to the tens in just a few short months… and it was all because of me.” Her head is bent forward and she’s holding her arms, her sharp nails digging into her skin, including the burnt parts. She lets out a shaky shudder: “An entire resistance movement, eradicated because of some stupid girl in way over her head…”

Jim stares at her, at a bit of a loss for what to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry…”, he whispers, cringing at the uselessness of his words. “I… can’t imagine what you’ve been through…”

“I wouldn’t try to imagine it. Not great for your psyche.”, she tries to smile, but it just looks like a grimace. “I have the deaths of thousands on my conscience, some of them close friends of mine… and as much as I would love to just off myself, I can’t let them die for nothing. Even if it takes me the rest of my life, or costs me my life… I need to see the royal family pay for their actions. I have to continue the work of the P.O.V, try and grow our numbers again, get some influential people on our side. My reach is limited, of course- I can’t go back to Vallen… the authorities know my face, as soon as I show up on any security camera or scanner, I’ll be rounded up, tortured then executed. Maybe it’s what I deserve, but I don’t like the idea of a pointless death- if I must die, I want it to be in a way that benefits the cause. And besides, I know too much, I’d hate to be forced into giving up the few remaining P.O.V members we have left…”

“How many of you are there currently?”, Spock interrupts her.

“On Vallen? Eleven, that I know of. Off-planet? Fifty-two, including me. And honestly, I don’t even have the means to know for sure who is and isn’t still alive- my contact with current members is fairly intermittent.”

Spock considers this a moment.

“The odds are not in your favour, are they?”

“Spock!”, Jim hisses, not enjoying his blunt Vulcan tactlessness for once.

“No, it’s fine… he’s right. It’s been slow work recruiting people. Non-Vallens are sympathetic to our cause, but it’s hard to find anyone you can fully trust. There aren’t that many Vallens that live off-world, and those that do are often out here because they had to escape with their families- they can’t risk reprisals from the royals, even all the way out here. They have eyes and ears everywhere… and with this Federation alliance, their reach will only grow…”

“But surely an alliance with the Federation will be good thing for your people?”, Jim points out. “After all, Starfleet has the resources to keep the royals in line…”

She snorts at that but quickly stops laughing when she sees the look on Jim’s face.

“Oh, you were being serious? Captain, I thought you must be aware… the reasons for this alliance aren’t as selfless as the official reports like to imply.”

“What do you mean?”, he frowns.

“Well… I don’t quite know how to say this Captain, but… a lot of your people are in the royal family’s pocket. They stand to gain a lot more than just weapons from this alliance- they’re being promised riches, influence, favours… and in return, all they have to do is cover up and look the other way when the Vallen government commit atrocities against their own people.”

Jim raises a sceptical brow.

“And you know this… how?”

“Kor.”, she says, nodding towards the door. “He has a lot of contacts in Starfleet, and they’ve been able to confirm some suspicions we’ve been having for a while… about corruption finding its way into Starfleet and subsequently the Federation government.”

“Corruption?”, he frowns, leaning forward over the crate, his stare intense. “You realise that is a very serious accusation, miss?”

“Yes.”, she whispers, nodding her head solemnly. “I do, Captain. But Kol’s information has never been wrong before…”

“So you say…”, he mutters, his expression darkening. “Who is he, anyway? What does he do?”

“I’m not entirely sure what his background is to be honest- he’s obviously Bajoran, but besides that, I couldn’t say. He keeps his cards close to his chest, and he’s always on the move- he had a different name when I first met him, and he’s had at least two other ones since. As for what he does, well… I guess you could say, he does what I do, but much more successfully. He collects secrets and helps out those who need it when he can. I’ve… never met anyone quite as good at what he does, honestly. It’s a real talent.”

“And this… ‘Kol’, he has contacts you say… in Starfleet?”, Jim asks, slightly bemused by this information as he pictures the young blonde waiter rubbing shoulders with lieutenants and commanders alike. “Who are they?”

“No idea.”, she shrugs. “He never reveals his sources to me or anyone. Sensible really- probably why he’s managed to stay under the radar all this time…”

“Where did you meet?”

“He used to do some work for the P.O.V back in the day- back before everything went to shit, I mean. He was never an official member, but he was certainly very useful to us, and he became kind of a friend to me. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, honestly, but a few months ago I was this close to being caught by a bounty hunter… and he managed to slit the bastard’s throat before he could lay so much as a hand on me. He helped to smuggle me onto Cermat 7, faked some records that said I was a refugee… which I guess isn’t completely untrue, a political refugee at the very least.”, she notes contemplatively, looking around their dingy surroundings. “And I’ve just been hanging out here ever since- I managed to find a way to get in contact with some of the remaining P.O.V members, but it’s been slow progress for a while, and as more and more people stop responding to my messages… well, it worries me. Maybe they’re just stepping back from the cause, trying to prioritise their own safety, which, I mean… can’t really blame them, I’d probably do the same if I had anything else to live for. But I can’t help thinking… that maybe they got to them.”

There’s a heavy silence in the room, as the implication hangs in the air. Meeriana scratches at her scarred arms nervously, and Jim resists the urge to reach over and make her stop.

“Yeah, so… I know things are looking pretty helpless right now… but I can’t give up now. Not while I’m still breathing.”, she murmurs, her eyes screwed shut. “I asked Kol if he could get in touch with his people, see if there was anyone influential within the Federation or Starfleet who might be sympathetic to our cause and… well… your name came up Captain.” She looks up at him with tired eyes, hair hanging over her face: “Kol’s contact said you spoke out against the alliance proposal, that you nearly lost your position over it… and… and I just thought…”

“… that I’d be able to help you.”, Jim finishes for her, nodding in understanding. He frowns to himself as he thinks it over: “I admit, I can see your logic, but it still seems like a risky move on your part. You had no idea what my reasons were for not wanting this alliance, if I had changed my mind, or if I was in any way trustworthy…”

“Kor’s source was very complimentary of you- said you were a man of integrity, that you always prioritised the needs of the many…”

“His source is correct on that particular point, miss.”, Spock nods, and Jim feels himself blush at the compliment despite himself.

“Yes, but that’s still just a second-hand opinion of me, one you couldn’t even verify for yourself - and besides, my ship will only be in port around Vallen this week, I won’t even be involved with the alliance after this! This was only supposed to be a small detour on the Enterprise’s five-year mission… shouldn’t you be talking to someone who’s actually involved in the alliance proceedings?”

“Yes, that would be… more ideal Captain.”, she sighs, picking at her arm again. “But unfortunately, the only people assigned to Vallen from Starfleet are those who are fully for the alliance, who have voiced no reservations or misgivings about the arrangement- and I’m sure that’s by design. And besides, whoever is involved with that work going forward will have a great deal of scrutiny put on them- they won’t be able to so much as sneeze without someone knowing. You though…”, she says, cocking her head at him. “… you might be able to get into places others can’t…”

“What do you mean?”, he asks curiously.

“Well…”, Meeriana hesitates a second, her expression unsure. “… I understand that the princess has shown you some… special interest lately…”

Jim feels his blood run cold, while the outside of his skin feels overwhelmingly hot- his stomach churns uncomfortably, his dinner threatening to violently re-emerge.

Had rumours of what happened really reached this part of the galaxy so quickly?

“… and I do understand you’re assigned to this mission for the next few years, but I’m sure if you made the occasional request to visit the princess on Vallen, Starfleet would allow it. You’d have access to the palace as a guest, and if you can get the princess to let her guard down around you, then…”, Meeriana suddenly stops, and she looks over at Jim, concern etched into her features. “Captain, are you okay? You look upset, I did not mean to offend…”

“I’m fine.”, he snaps, then quickly recovers himself. “I’m just… you shouldn’t believe every rumour you hear, you know?”

“Understood, sir…”, she murmurs, clearly embarrassed she’s upset him. She looks down at her lap: “And I really didn’t mean anything bad by it, really- it wouldn’t be the first time the princess seduced someone for her own benefit…”

“Yes, well, that didn’t happen.”, Jim says shortly, doing his best to ignore Spock’s steady gaze. He really wasn’t looking for sympathy right now. “Look, Meeriana, I appreciate why you might think I’m a good candidate for this, but I… it’s not just about me. If me and Mr. Spock go down for treason, it won’t just be us affected: our entire crew would be under suspicion, people who had nothing to do with any of this could lose their jobs or, god forbid, be arrested. I have to look out for my people…”

Meeriana nods slowly, her expression sad but also one of acceptance.

“Of course, Captain. I… understand that. I also have people I need to look out for… and I’ve already let so many down… so yes. I understand why you can’t help me…”

“No.”, he says firmly, shaking his head. “I will try to help you.”

“You will?”, her and Spock say at the exact same time. She shoots him an annoyed glare, before turning back to Jim: “Are you saying you’re willing to report back to me? If you hear or see anything useful?”

“Yes… but I’m not going to be taking any unnecessary risks. I’m a Starfleet captain, not a spy, at the end of the day. I’m not going to be going around picking locks, scaling palace walls or anything like that- but if anything that seems interesting or useful comes my way, I will get back to you. I just… can’t make any promises. Like I said, the Enterprise will be leaving port in a few days…”

“I understand, Captain Kirk.”, Meeriana sighs, crossing her arms against her chest. “It’s a tall ask, and not without significant risk. Believe me, the only reason I approached you in the first place is because I’m desperate. I…”, she bows her head, clearly overcome and trying not to get too emotional. “… I have a lot to answer for. At this point, I’ll try anything…”

Jim stares over at her, overwhelming sympathy enveloping him as he looks over at the troubled young woman. He puts a hand on her shoulder, and she does not shove him off this time.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself…”, Jim says softly. “… you weren’t to blame for what happened. It was your contact who chose to betray you…”

“That’s kind of you to say, Captain.”, she smiles queasily, scrunching up the napkin in her hand. “But you’re also wrong- it was my fault, and I’m learning to live with that. Now…”, she says, clapping her hands together, dismissing him before he can argue any further. “Let’s get to business- if we’re to work together, I need to give you a way of contacting me. Here…”

She hands him another business card, and Jim frowns down at it in confusion.

“What is this?”

“Card for an Earth-themed restaurant- used to be across the road from here, but it recently moved to another part of town.”

“This is a pizzeria.”

“Is that the word for it? I confess, I’ve not indulged in much Earth cuisine. Would you recommend?”

“Uh… yes, I guess. But why are you giving me this?”

“Because this card has the number for the communications box in the original building- I managed to refit it so it’ll come through my burner device here.” She fishes out an ancient-looking metallic box with several knobs on it. “Just call that number, wait for the answerphone and when it asks you if you’re wanting to book a table or order takeout, say you want a table. That should put you through to me.”

“Huh. Neat.”, he says, putting his card into his pocket. “But wouldn’t it easier if you just came back with us, to the Enterprise? We could keep you safe there, you wouldn’t have to hide out in a laundry room…”

“I appreciate the offer Captain, but I have to refuse- shuttles off-planet have security cameras and guards on the door and I can’t afford to be recognised. And while I’ve chosen to trust the two of you, I can’t say the same thing about the rest of Starfleet… I am a wanted criminal at the end of the day, they would be obliged to take me back to Vallen to answer for my crimes. Don’t worry about me though… I’ve survived this long on the run.”

“Understood.”, Jim says grimly, pulling himself up from his seat. “But just know the option is there miss. Whenever you need it. We have ways of being discrete, I assure you.”

“And it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve knowingly brought a wanted criminal on board.”, Spock says dryly.

“I appreciate it, gentlemen.”, she smiles, putting out a hand to Kirk. He shakes it firmly. “I look forward to working with you!”

**********************************************************************************

“Did you disagree with my decision back there, Spock?”

“Disagree, Captain?”, Spock cocks his head at Jim, considering a moment. They were outside the front of the bar, catching a breather before they headed off to catch the next shuttle, talking through the mind meld so that no-one might overhear. “Well, the young lady certainly seemed genuine in her convictions, but she admitted herself that she is currently very desperate and harbouring a lot of guilt over her past actions- I don’t think we can trust her to act completely rationally going forward, and that could be detrimental both to us and the Enterprise. If Starfleet were to discover we were conspiring with a criminal, someone designated a terrorist on her home planet, well, the consequences would be quite substantial. However, I do understand why you agreed to help her.”

“Oh, yeah? And why’s that then?”

“Well, sir, I know these last few months have been frustrating for you- you felt strong-armed by our superiors into attending and participating in the alliance talks. You’ve always had an intense hatred of tyrannical rulers, and being forced to negotiate with them in any capacity goes against many of your strong convictions. So, I understand why you would be tempted to rebel in some way, however small.”

“Hmmm…”, Jim considers this reading of him. “But it’s not enough, is it? I mean, after talking to her… she’s suffered, Spock. So many of her people have suffered, are still suffering under the royal’s rule. And here I am, doing the bare minimum, and she’s still grateful for it. It makes me feel terrible.”

“Your primary duty is to your crew, Jim- you explained as much to her and she understood.”

“Yeah, real easy for me to walk away from a problem when it doesn’t affect me directly…”

“The universe is a vast place, Jim- you cannot help everyone, you are only one man. And toppling a tyrannical government will certainly take more than one person to achieve…”

“I still think I could do more.”

“Hey! Lovebirds!”

The two of them whirl around to see Kol standing there in his waiter’s outfit, his smiling, handsome face lit up under the light of the red lanterns hung above the entrance. He has a jacket slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to go home for the night.

“Hey yourself!”, Jim shouts back at him. “You really know how to sneak up on people, you know that?”

“Not that hard.”, he shrugs, stepping forward. “Seems like you two were in a world of your own… anyway, seems like you two had a good chat with Meeriana?”

“Yep- talked a little bit about you, actually.”, Jim responds, squinting at him a little. “Says you’re the secretive type… that she doesn’t even know your real name.”

“I find names to be very unimportant.”

“Clearly.”, Jim mutters, huddling into his coat. Now that the sun was nearly gone, it was getting pretty damn cold on this planet. “Mind if I ask why exactly you work two jobs? Doesn’t seem like a great use of your time… or is that a secret too?”

He smiles at him.

“Double the paychecks, Captain. And, in my line of work, law enforcement centres and popular drinking establishments are both great sources of information for me. The amount some rich idiots will open up to you after a few martinis, let me tell you…”

“Okay, got it… kind of. Meeriana also said you had some contacts in Starfleet, that they’ve been feeding you information… would you be willing to tell me who they are?”

“Afraid not, Captain- I never reveal my sources. But, if it makes you feel better, whoever you most suspect, it’s probably not them.”, he winks at him, a twinkle in his eye.

“Do you find your sources trustworthy?”

“They’re just as trustworthy as me.”

“And are you?”

“Kirk! You wound me!”, he gasps, mockingly grabbing his chest. “I told you, on my mother’s life!”

“You implied you hated your mother before.”, Spock points out, hands clasped behind his back.

Kol smirks at him.

“Yes, I suppose I did, didn’t I? Well, if it puts your mind at any ease gentlemen, I have no intention of double-crossing you, unless you give me a good reason.”

“And what would be a good reason, Kol?”, Jim enquires, narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously.

The young man pauses a second, all mirth gone from his face now, looking the two of them up and down like he was sizing them up.

“You know Kirk…”, he eventually responds, a drawl to his voice that hadn’t been there previously. “I consider Meeriana a friend. A good friend. I… have very few of those, and those I do have, I cherish deeply. She’s been through hell these past couple of years, and if I had it my way, I would make sure she never knew pain again. But I’m not capable of that, so I just keep her as safe as I can. And that includes keeping a close eye on people she chooses to trust…” He takes another slow step towards him so that him and Jim are nose to nose, and he can practically count the freckles on his cheek. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, more mature, and there’s a dangerous glint in his eye: “… and I want to make it clear to you Kirk, that if she comes to any harm because of you, intentionally or not, I will kill you. That is a promise, make no mistake.”

Spock puts on a defensive stance and starts stepping forward, ready to push Kol off him, but Jim tells him to stop in his mind and he backs off. He smiles at Kol and gives him a steady nod, not breaking eye contact.

“I understand.”, he whispers softly. “I take care of my friends too.”

And with that, the hostility disappears from Kol’s face, a cheeky, youthful grin lighting up his features again.

“Excellent! Glad we got that sorted!”, he claps him on the back, making Jim wince- the guy was stronger than he looked. “I’ll be seeing you around gentlemen! Hope you enjoyed your evening!”

And with that, they watch him walk off into the good night, melodically whistling as he wanders down the road, leaving the two men to watch after him as he disappears from sight. Spock rubs his hand, and Jim happily puts two fingers out for a Vulcan kiss, listening to the music and chatter emanating from inside the bar.

“T’hy’la…”, Spock whispers in his mind, his voice soothing and sedative. “I believe our business is concluded here…”

Chapter Text

It was late by the time they boarded the Enterprise again, with only the crew members still working the night shift seen walking about the ship. There were a few curious glances thrown their way as the captain and his first officer make their way down the hall in their civvies, but nobody stops to talk.

As they re-enter their quarters, Jim can feel exhaustion seep into his bones at the sight of the bed, taking off his jacket and falling backwards into the sheets, his body sinking into the mattress. He looks up, expecting Spock to join him, but instead he is still standing by the door, typing away on his PADD.

“Hey…”, Jim yawns, sitting himself up on his elbows. “… don’t you feel like putting your feet up?”

“I will join you soon, Jim. I am just messaging Dr McCoy to see if he’s still awake- I promised to give him an update on the situation as soon as we returned. I also need to talk to him so we can arrange an appointment for you tomorrow…”

“An appointment?”, Jim frowns. “What for?”

“You require a medical and psychological assessment if you are to be granted medical leave for the next few days. And of course we need to discuss your course of treatment- I’ve already asked the doctor to look into therapists specialising in this field…”

“Medical leave?!”, Jim blurts out, interrupting Spock mid-sentence. “Spock, I feel fine… and surely it should be my choice whether I take the day off work or not?”

Spock raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well… ordinarily, yes. But Starfleet rules dictate that if any personnel are potentially at risk of being medically, emotionally or psychologically compromised, that they must be assessed by an appropriate practitioner, so that they may judge if they are in a sufficient state to effectively perform their duties.”

“Yes, well…”, Jim says, scratching his head. “… can’t we just leave it? All I need is a good night’s sleep, and only you and Bones are in the know about what happened.”

“Negative. Once the report we made down at the station is officially uploaded to Starfleet’s database, they will be aware of what transpired. If we do not follow proper procedure for cases such as this, there will be consequences.”

Jim sighs, flopping down on the bed again, too tired to argue.

“Fine. Let’s go see Bones…”

“It is unnecessary for both of us to go, Jim- you should stay here, try and rest or take a shower…”

“Is that your way of telling me I smell, Spock?”, Jim grins over at him. “Because you could’ve just said…”

“I’m implying nothing, t’hy’la. I simply wish that you… try to relax, in whatever way best suits you. It has been a long day.”

“No kidding…”, Jim mutters, crossing his arms across his chest. “I can’t wait for when we can finally leave here, get back to the mission… too many bad memories here, and I was never one for politics anyway. Give me scientific discovery and harrowing adventures any day…”

“We will get back to it soon, Jim.”, Spock says, sitting himself beside him on the bed, resting a hand on his stomach. “In the meantime, take advantage of the downtime. Rest.”

“You my doctor now, Spock?”, he smiles lazily, rubbing at his hand. “Bones will be pissed…”

Spock does not respond, instead that small crease appears between his eyebrows again, the one that told Jim he was thinking hard.

“Hey…”, he says, poking him in the ribs. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Jim, I…”, Spock hesitates before continuing. “I know you expressed reluctance before, but I would very much appreciate it if you would show me your recovered memories.”

Jim feels himself stiffen, his hand still resting on Spock’s.

“Spock, I told you, I… don’t want you seeing me like that…”

“I know, t’hy’la, and you are within your rights to refuse, but I…”, Spock sighs, rubbing his hand across his stomach. “… I want to understand. Fully. What you went through. I… do not like being kept in the dark about it.”

“It’s not me keeping you in the dark, Spock, it’s just…”, Jim’s voice trails off as he tries to find the right words. “… it’s still fresh, you know? Maybe when I’m ready…”

Spock nods at him, his eyes softening as he runs a cool hand over his face.

“Of course, please forgive me… I should’ve known it was too soon to ask…”

“Spock, please don’t apologise.”, Jim says earnestly, clasping his hand. “I will let you see someday, I promise. Just not… right now.”

Spock looks down at him, his dark eyes considering as he clasps his hands back. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then his PADD starts beeping and he pulls it out quickly, opening up his messages.

“Dr McCoy wishes to meet.”, he announces, eyes darting down to Jim. “Would I be okay to leave you for a little while, Jim? My discussion with the doctor should not take more than an hour.”

“I’m not a child Spock…”, he says, rolling his eyes. “You can leave me unattended for a whole hour.”

“I just meant… if it was preferable…”

“It’s fine, Spock, just go.”, he waves his hand at him. “I could use a shower anyway, as you said.”

Spock nods at him, putting his PADD back in his pocket as he leans over to kiss Jim softly on the lips, which he happily returns. Pulling back, he whispers: “I will see you soon, t’hy’la.”,

With that, he stands himself up and makes his way out of the room, the door swishing closed behind him. Jim smiles after him as he leaves, but it soon fades as he looks around the room, observing his surroundings. The room looked the same as normal, but everything just felt a little… wrong. Like he’d walked into a sitcom set of his own life, rather than his actual room. Even yesterday, when he’d fully believed Spock was about to break up with him, it hadn’t felt like this, like he was a stranger in his own home- the walls too white, too clinical, the bed linen too silky underneath his chipped fingernails, the carpet too rough on his bare feet…

He sighs. He just needed a shower- he’d feel more human after that.

As he wanders over to the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror, he recalls looking himself in a very similar fashion that fateful morning: his split lip, the bruising, the bite marks…

He shivers and just starts running the tap so he can brush his teeth, trying not to think about the way his teeth had clinked against her fangs as they violently smashed their lips together.

He spits into the sink and wanders over to the laundry chute. He hesitates as he lifts the hem of his shirt, suddenly remembering this was the first time he’d be fully nude since having his memory recovered. Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, he pulls the garment over his head, his trousers soon following. As he pulls down his boxers, he can’t help but carefully inspect his thighs under the bright lights, noting how good a job Bones had done at healing him up. Only the deepest scratches left any trace, and those were just fine silver scars, barely visible against his tan skin. You wouldn’t even notice they were there if you didn’t know what to look for.

She’s licking between his thighs; long, wet tongue sliding against his sensitive skin as he holds her head down there, panting. Her claws dig in, white hot pain erupting, drawing blood, but he finds he does not care, it feels too wonderful to stop…

He finds himself heaving over the sink, cold sweat dripping down his face as he forces himself to keep the vomit down, acid rising up in his throat. His knees are trembling as he holds himself up over the basin, he wants nothing more than just to collapse onto the cool, smooth tiles and curl up into a ball…

His legs are shaking, he has no concept of time anymore, but it feels like they’ve been at this forever, him leaning over her back, pushing in again and again, the sound of her heady gasps and high-pitched mewling, sweet, sweet music to his ears…

He punches the side of the sink, hard, knowing full well his knuckles will be bruised purple tomorrow, but the sickening pain followed by the dull throbbing does its job.

It grounds him for now.

He walks over at the shower head and glances up at the sonic and water settings, hesitating with his hand over the lever…

He stifles a pained yell as the powerful spray hits his tender bruises; cuts that had barely just closed up opening again under the force of the erupting water, blood dripping slowly down his arms and knees, swirling into the drain below, brown-red spirals forming in the clear water.

Silent, pathetic sobs escape him, hurting his raw throat: he knows he deserves the pain, and more. What on earth had possessed him last night? He wants to bang his head against the shower wall again and again, until his skull cracked open, until he gave himself brain damage and he was no longer James T. Kirk, he was no longer wearing his own disgusting skin…

He opts for a sonic shower tonight.

*********************************************************************************

Once he’s finished, he puts on his Starfleet-issued nightclothes as quickly as he can, not trusting himself to look down at his own body as he gets dressed in the semi-darkness of his own room.

He tries to finish up some paperwork for a little while, but his mind is a blurry landscape, confusing and indistinct, flashes of the last few days playing through his mind as he tried to put his stylus to PADD. Finally, he takes Spock’s advice and lies himself down on the bed, closing his eyes, willing sleep to take him…

She crawls over his body, one sharp claw scratching tantalisingly down his bare chest…

He puts a pillow over his face and groans- what the hell was wrong with him? It had just been sex, rough sex for sure, but still, just sex. No-one had died, his injuries superfluous and skin deep, and it wasn’t like she’d forcefully held him down or anything as she took pleasure from his body. If anything, he had been the one holding her down mostly; she was a tiny little thing, nothing but slender limbs and soft curves, no muscle to speak of. Even if she had wanted to, she would’ve offered little resistance under his strong grip. If he’d really wanted to, he could’ve thrown her off easily…

Jim rolls over onto his side, pillow clutched to his chest, an anchor in the sudden vast emptiness of the captain’s quarters. The bed sheets had clearly been changed today, they no longer smelt of him or Spock, and he finds himself wishing he was here, right now. He hates himself for thinking that- he’d been gone for what, forty minutes? Was he really unable to cope without him for even a whole hour? Surely, he wasn’t that pathetic? He’d faced down gunfire, torture at the hand of sadists, the death of his crewmembers, his own brother, Tarsus IV…

He could not let something as frivolous as this be his undoing. He was the captain, his number one priority was his duty to his crewmembers, his ship. Captains were supposed to stay strong, overcome the impossible for the good of the many or die trying. Like Captain Pike, his own father…

Henson’s words come back to him suddenly; he’d implied him and his father were on friendly terms, that he’d had a lot of respect for him. He had never known his own father that well, always away on duty, leaving his mother as his kid’s primary carer. When his family had been informed his death, he’d mourned more the idea of a man that the man himself, always talked about in his presence but rarely seen.

What kind of man could he have been if he’d considered the admiral a friend?

Suddenly, he hears the sound of the door swishing open, and he immediately stiffens, suddenly brought out of his depressive spiral, back into panic. He doesn’t want Spock to see him like this, not even a sobbing mess, just a frozen, useless, living corpse…

“Jim?”, he hears him whisper, the spot on the bed next to him sinking as he sits himself down. He does not look around. “Ashayam? Are you asleep?”

He shakes his head. If he’d felt more up to it, he would’ve turned around, given him his classic easy smile, make some innocuous joke, pull him into a hug, let him know he’s alright.

But he doesn’t. He just stays on his side, lying there in the darkness as Spock places a careful hand on his arm.

“Are you well, Jim? Do you need to talk?”

He shakes his head again, screwing his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. There was no need for him to make a spectacle of himself right now, not when Spock was probably tired too, after dealing with all his nonsense the last couple of days…

“T’hy’la, please, is there something you need? Dr McCoy is still awake if you require anything…”

“No, Spock.”, his voice strained, muffled against the pillow, but it’s still very obvious he’s on the edge of tears. He scrunches himself up further, hating how weak he was, how he’d proven Spock right, here he was in here sniffling in bed like he was still a small kid afraid of the dark.

“Jim…”, Spock whispers, running a cool hand over his hair. He does not breach his mind, but he does send comforting, soothing emotional resonances down his arm, traveling over his scalp and throughout his body, and it does help a little.

But only a little.

“Spock, I…”, he gasps out, his voice catching as his chest pangs with pain. Tears prick his eyes as he whispers, his body still facing away from him: “… please, could you just… hold me?”

“Of course, t’hy’la…”, Spock whispers to him, lying himself down behind him and enveloping him in his strong arms, continuing to send soothing vibrations down his body. He turns him around so that his face is now against his chest, and he takes a deep breath as he inhales his partner, letting him hold him close, his legs intertwining with his own.

He hates himself for needing this, but he does not allow himself to dwell for now- and if Spock feels any discomfort as he rubs his wet face against his officer’s shirt, he does comment on it, just continuing to stroke his hair as he gazes up at the skylight, watching the stars burn and collapse thousands of light years away from where they lay.

**********************************************************************************

He kisses his way down Spock’s body, enjoying the way he squirmed and wiggled under his ministrations. As a Vulcan, he always did his best to control himself, to make himself seem devoid of feeling, and Jim always took great pleasure in making him partially break those restraints. It used to be just a slight twitch of the eyebrow when he beat him at chess, a barely concealed sigh when he proposed some dangerous rescue operation.

This, however, this was so much more fun…

He got to the middle of his stomach, breathing deeply, taking in his scent, pressing his lips to his skin…

That’s when he frowns in confusion- the smell is wrong, strong flowery perfume rather than lightly scented soap and subtle notes of aftershave. The skin instead feels soft and supple, rather than hard and firm, completely lacking body hair…

The restrained masculine grunts suddenly replaced by feminine moans.

His eyes fly open, and what should’ve been a pale, green-tinged torso covered with black body hair was instead expanses of smooth, azure skin, his own hands moulding two fleshy breasts as she puts her head back and moans even louder, one arm covering her ecstatic face.

He tries to stop, pull himself off her, but instead he finds himself sinking into her skin, his own pink flesh melding with the blue, becoming one. His lips are fused to her skin, and as he sinks in further, he finds himself unable to breathe.

He keeps pulling, and pulling, but he only sinks in deeper, the sounds of the breathy moans deepening as he struggles for air, his lungs burning. Hands claw at his back, drawing blood and he tries to scream, but he can’t, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe…

“Jim? Jim? T’hy’la? Wake up!”

He is being shook from side to side, and he scrabbles for purchase, but instead of grasping at hot, sweaty flesh like he expects what he feels is something soft and cool, like cloth…

No, it’s bedsheets.

He comes to with a start, finding himself looking into Spock’s worried dark eyes, cold hands gripping his shoulders. Jim looks around, confused, what happened to her, she was just here, him and her had been…

His entire body shudders and it’s difficult to breathe again. Spock loosens his grip on him, and instructs him to breathe slowly in and out, rubbing gentle circles on his back as he did so.

“Just a dream, t’hy’la…”, Spock whispers as he begins to feel a little more in control of himself. “I’m here with you, you’re safe…”

With that, Jim feels himself let go completely, completely unrestrained as he sobs loudly into Spock’s neck, his tears flowing freely, big, watery gulps emerging from his mouth. He’s humiliated with himself, but he can’t stop, he lets himself be held by Spock who shows no discomfort with their position, despite how much he must be feeling his evident distress right now.

Eventually, he calms down enough so that he can shakily request a glass of water. Spock happily obliges and as he watches his boyfriend hurry off into the bathroom, he cannot help but wish he’d insisted Spock sleep in his first officer’s quarters tonight, away from him and his pathetic little nightmares.

Groaning, he puts his hands over his face, knowing that despite feeling more tired than he had in a while, he was not going to be able to get back to sleep after this.

Chapter Text

“Jim?”, Spock murmurs groggily, awoken from his slumber by the shifting body. He knows it is ten to six in the morning, and that he himself had fallen asleep around two, which was more than enough sleep for a Vulcan. He had tried to stay awake as long as Jim, but he was very fatigued from their activities yesterday, as well as spending most of last night doing his best to subtly soothe his partner with telepathy, all while taking care to not accidentally breach Jim's mind without his permission.

“Shhhh…”, Jim shushes him, just a humanoid-shaped silhouette in the darkness. “I’m just going to the bathroom. You go back to sleep.”

But Spock was fully awake now, so he simply sits himself upright in bed and flicks through his team’s research reports on his PADD, waiting for Jim to return. He frowns when he hears the noise of an electric toothbrush and razor coming from the bathroom, but he just figures Jim is wanting to freshen up a little after his rough night. Following his nightmare and subsequent panic attack, Jim had simply laid there, his emotions an uncomfortable, stressful whirr in his mind, like someone was drilling into the wall behind their bed. Spock had tried to engage him a few times when it was becoming clear he was now too wired for sleep to take him under anytime soon. He had simply responded he was fine, and had moved further away from him, clearly annoyed with his prodding. When he asked him if he wanted him to go request a sleeping aid from Dr McCoy, he actually snapped at him but quickly apologised profusely, a look of shame on his face. Spock had stroked his cheek and huddled up to him again to show there was no hard feelings, and Jim gladly reciprocated.

And so that’s how they stayed most of the night, in each other’s arms, Jim doing his best to shield his emotions but having little energy or will to do so. Spock had thought about offering to Vulcan pinch him into unconsciousness, but decided Jim was not in the mood for jokes or might mistake him for being serious- he was still working on his delivery. When he himself finally fell into unconsciousness, he had been pretty sure Jim’s mind was still active and whirring away, a bundle of nervous, pent-up energy with no real form of release. So if he had managed to get any sleep last night, it would’ve been only a few short hours. He would broach the topic of a sleeping aid with him again once he’s returned from the bathroom, to see if he would be more amiable to the idea.

He hears the swish of a door, but when he turns around to look, the door to their bathroom is still closed and there is no sign of Jim. He wonders if he had simply misheard, or the Jim had quickly opened and closed the door by accident when he wasn’t looking.

Then his keen Vulcan ears pick up something peculiar: someone wandering around next door, in his first officer’s quarters. Perhaps Jim remembered he had left something of his through there, and was going to retrieve it?

Just as this reasonable explanation crossed his mind, he hears the sound of another door swishing open and closing.

His own bedroom door- the one leading out to the ship’s corridor.

Spock jumps up from bed, presses the release button on Jim’s bedroom door and runs out into the corridor, not bothering to feel embarrassed that he is still wearing his nightclothes and is padding down the long hallway barefoot.

Sure enough, he finds Jim standing by the turbolift, all decked out in his captain’s uniform and Spock notes that he’d even taken the time to style his hair. He has his hand on elevator button when he suddenly notices Spock’s presence, his head snapping up at the sight of the Vulcan hurrying down the hall in just his pyjamas.

“Spock!”, he hisses, looking nervously up and down the corridor for any other early risers. “I told you to go back to sleep!”

“Jim… Captain, where are you heading to this early?”, Spock asks, not bothering to dignify that with a response. “Your appointment with Dr McCoy isn’t for another three hours.”

“Yes, well…”, Jim says, rubbing the back of his neck wearily. “Thought I should get some work done before that, you know? Get some hours in while I still have some adrenaline. I still have some more mission reports to read through, and then there’s the team briefing at eight…”

“Those tasks can be covered by any of our senior officers, including myself.”, Spock states, studying Jim’s face as he did so: the grey pallor of his skin, the bloodshot eyes, and the dark circles that had formed beneath them. “You should not attempt to return to work until the doctor has deemed you fit to do so.”

“Jeez Spock!”, Jim sighs, exasperated. “It’s nothing taxing! Just a bit of reading, then a quick circle talk- I’m pretty sure I can cope with that.”

“You should not have to cope with anything Captain- you did not get adequate sleep last night, and it is against regulations to allow someone on the bridge with potentially impaired mental or physical faculties.”

“Mr. Spock…”, Jim breathes slowly in, then out, clearly annoyed now. “… I think Starfleet has bigger things to worry about right now than whether I got my full seven hours. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

He makes to enter the turbolift, but Spock quickly pushes a panel, and the door swishes closed. Jim whirls round and scowls at him, his fists clenched.

“What the hell Spock!”

“Captain…”, Spock says, doing his best to keep his tone as neutral as possible, not wanting to come across as annoyed or irritated. “… I insist that you go back to your room for now and rest- the doctor will look you over in a few hours and determine whether you are fit to work. If he gives you the all-clear, you can, of course, return to your duties.”

“God, Spock!”, Jim growls, his bloodshot eyes seeming to glow red under the fluorescent lights. “I had a shitty night, okay?! Isn’t the first time, won’t be the last. I’m perfectly capable of working!”

“Jim, do you recall what happened the last time you ignored medical advice and continued to overstretch your limits?”

“If this is about our last trip to Risa, I swear to god…”

“Yes, it is Jim. You refused to inform Dr McCoy of your insomnia, and it greatly affected productivity and overall crew morale…”

“It turned out fine in the end!”

“You made a yeoman cry, and told Lieutenant Sulu to, and I quote, ‘go throw himself out of the airlock’. And it was not in a light-hearted manner.”

“I apologised to Sarah- and the lieutenant was deliberately getting on my nerves!”

“He tries to get on your nerves every day, Captain- but it is not every day you choose to respond with vitriol.”

“Look, Spock…”, Jim groans and Spock can see his shoulders visibly deflate. “I get it, I do, but… please, just let me keep myself busy for a few hours. I… can’t go back to my room and just do nothing, I’ll go mad. I need a distraction…”

“Jim…”, Spock sighs, feeling his previous frustration dissipate, reaching for his hand. “… if you require a distraction as you say, I am happy to take the day off with you. We can play chess, watch an old Earth movie, whatever you need…”

To his shock, Jim slaps his hand away and faces forward, a stormy look on his face as he presses the button again for the turbolift.

“I don’t need to be bloody babysat, Spock!”, Jim snaps. “I’m a grown man, I don’t need you hovering around me all the time, treating me like some imbecile!”

“I am doing no such thing, Captain!”, Spock immediately stiffens, putting his hands behind his back. “I am simply insisting you take rational decisions with regards to your health…”

“Ah, yes, yes, rational, logical, all those good Vulcan qualities, am I right Mr. Spock?”, Jim chuckles bitterly as the turbolift door swishes open again. “How annoying for you to be constantly surrounded by stupid, illogical humans who don’t know how to take care of themselves… or maybe you enjoy it secretly, makes you feel all superior? Is that it? Is that why you enjoy my company so much?”

Spock is not often taken aback, but in this moment, he actually feels himself freeze up as Jim’s cruel words leave his mouth, hovering in the air between them like a toxic cloud.  A look of regret briefly passes through Jim’s features, and Spock almost expects him to apologise then and there, but the moment quickly passes. Jim looks back towards the lift, stony-faced, and starts to walk forward…

… only for the door to immediately close on him again, Spock gazing over at him impassively, pale hand pressed on the panel, ignoring’s Jim’s furious expression.

“Captain…”, Spock says cooly and evenly, not betraying any kind of emotion. “If you do not return to your quarters this instant, then as first officer of this vessel, I will be forced to pull rank on you.”

Jim stares at him blank-faced a moment, clearly shocked by his abrupt change in demeanour, but the shock is quickly replaced again by anger.

“You cannot be serious…”, he splutters.

“I am always serious when it comes to the safety of the Enterprise and its crew, Captain. It is of my opinion that your mental and emotional faculties are severely compromised- I cannot in good faith allow you on the bridge this morning, not without endangering all those who work under you. If you continue to ignore my requests, I will use my position as first officer to have you temporarily relieved of your duties. Now…”, Spock removes his hand from his panel and raises his eyebrow at him, the doors swishing open once more. “… it is, as you say, your call sir.”

 Jim gapes at him, too stunned to speak, his face red and fists shaking now, they're so clenched.

Just as he’s about to respond, the melodic voice of one Lieutenant Sulu pipes up behind them:

“Oh, hey you two! Nice to see the dynamic duo up and early…”, he pauses, raising his eyebrows when he sees Spock’s state of undress. “Hey Spock, you realise the Enterprise pyjama party isn’t until Friday, right? Or is this dress rehearsal for you?” He pauses again when he takes note of Jim’s red face and clenched fists, and Spock’s even stiffer than usual posture. “Oof, tension… everything alright here? Mum and dad aren’t getting a divorce, are they? Because if that’s the case, I would like to spend the weekend and the holidays at Captain Kirk’s house, if that’s okay with you Spock…”

“The captain and I are not engaging in a disagreement, if that’s what you are implying Mr. Sulu.”, Spock responds frostily, his eyes not leaving Jim’s face. “Captain Kirk was simply letting me know he will be taking leave today, and requests that I take command of the bridge in his absence.”

Jim struggles to keep the scowl off his face as he stiffly nods in affirmation.

“Yes… you have command of the bridge, Mr. Spock, as you say. If there any issues that demand my attention, please inform me at once.”, Jim says through gritted teeth, causing Sulu to raise a curious eyebrow. “Now if you’ll excuse me gentlemen…”

And with that, Jim storms off down the hall, his boots thumping against the shiny surface of the hallway as the two men stare after him. Sulu turns back to Spock, who is already pressing the release button on the turbolift:

“Hey, in all seriousness, are you two… okay? Because me and Scotty are happy to take command today if there’s something you need to work on. Well, I don’t know if Scotty would be happy about it exactly, but I’m sure he would be willing…”

“As I said before, Lieutenant Sulu, me and the Captain were not having a disagreement; he was merely informing me he required… rest.”

“Okay…”, Sulu nods slowly as he follows him into the lift. “… I suppose that’s good then. I was surprised he came into work yesterday, honestly; he looked exhausted after those talks.”

“Indeed.”, Spock murmurs, turning his face to the voice activation comm. “To the bridge, please.”

”Uh… commander?”, Sulu says wearily, eyeing him up and down. 

“Yes, lieutenant?”

”Shouldn’t you get dressed first?”

Chapter Text

Spock was able to work to his usual efficiency that morning, issuing orders to the bridge crew directly and his own science team over the comms, alongside working on Jim’s mission reports and captain’s logs. If anyone noticed his responses to queries were a little more abrupt and concise than was typically the norm, his movements stiffer, lips a fraction more downturned, nobody mentions it. He did not think it likely anyone would notice anyway, as most of the human crew usually struggled to accurately read his mood, with the exceptions of Jim and Lieutenant Uhura, and she was currently far too occupied with her comms to spare him so much as a glance. Sulu had glanced his way a few times and even enquired how he was doing at one point, but he was soon distracted by his usual banter at the navigation panel with Chekov. Spock could not help but wonder if he would tell the young officer about his interaction with Jim and himself this morning, but decided to pay it no mind- it was hardly the most tantalising bit of gossip to be found on this ship.

He would be lying if he said his mind did not often turn to Jim when he was supposed to be getting on with his tasks, and he was even tempted to give his quarters a call after the morning team meeting, but decides against it- Jim had clearly already gotten tired of his overattentiveness, so he would try and keep a little distance for now and give them both a chance to cool down.

Spock sighed to himself- he should have been more patient with Jim, he knew that. He did not regret making him go back to his quarters, but he did not like how he had gone about it. It had been a long time since him and Jim had what would constitute a real argument, at least not one that had brought Spock close to the point of visible anger- they’d  had plenty of disagreements in the past and traded jibes on a day-to-day basis, certainly; but they were still based on mutual respect and affection, never getting to the point of outright hostility. This morning however… he knew why Jim had said what he did. He was tired, in pain, frustrated with himself for not meeting his own high standards, and when he got like that, he tended to lash out at whoever was in his way, whether they were at fault or not. It was a character flaw Jim very much recognised in himself, and he usually did his best to manage it, learning when he needed to step away from a confrontation or take a quick breather. But he wasn’t perfect by any means, and there were times the frustration would spill over, and he would get personal or downright nasty, resulting in weeks of guilt and self-flagellation over his own harsh words.

Yes, he knew why Jim had taken a stab at his Vulcan-ness, knowing full well it would touch a nerve- he had wanted Spock to get out of his face, to let him get on with trying to prove to himself that he was unaffected by the events of the last few days, that he was still capable of functioning as normal. After all, that was why he had snuck out of his room this morning, trying to avoid a confrontation with Spock who he knew full well would disapprove of his actions.

Yes, he understood why he had said what he said.

But understanding did not stop it from hurting.

He was used to being othered, and most of the time it did not bother him- he had chosen to work on a ship that consisted mainly of a human crew, and he never attempted to downplay his Vulcan upbringing. It was only natural people would treat him as a curiosity or feel somewhat uncomfortable in his presence.

But Jim had never made him feel like an ‘other’- even in the early days of their mission, when Spock was still struggling to figure out how he felt about the inexperienced young captain, so different from his predecessor Captain Pike. He had often tried to include him in crew get-togethers, always saved him a seat at lunch, and eventually their chess games became one of his favourite weekly pastimes. He suspected that at first, Jim’s efforts were just his way of ensuring he and his second-in-command were on good terms for the purpose of the mission, but eventually it had blossomed into true friendship, one that he truly treasured.

He had opened up to Jim, about his struggles growing up on Vulcan as a half-breed, and the isolation he experienced as the only non-human crewmember stationed on the Enterprise. And when their friendship became something even more, and he allowed him to mind meld, well… there were few insecurities of his that Jim was not privy to, and vice versa.

So yes, it had hurt when Jim had used that very knowledge and trust against him.

Of course, he would forgive him- he knew he had not meant it, after all. But that did not mean it hadn’t hurt.

“Commander?”, Uhura suddenly approaches him, PADD in hand. He is grateful for her interruption, being pulled out of his own rather dreary contemplations. “Princess Feronzi’s husband, Prince Grunig, is currently on the line- he is wanting to speak with the captain. I believe he is looking to arrange a follow-up to the initial talks, to re-evaluate certain parts of the agreement with Starfleet personnel- I told him the captain was currently unavailable, but he was quite insistent…”

“Please tell him that his second-in-command is available to talk, and anything he wishes to discuss with Captain Kirk, he can discuss with me. I am happy to pass on any messages he has, but if he wants to speak to the captain directly, he will have to wait until tomorrow.”, Spock responds, his tone clipped and short, but not so different most people would notice the change in his usual speaking pattern.

Uhura, however, was not most people.

“Yes sir.”, she says, giving him a curious stare. “If I may ask, Mr Spock… is something bothering you? You seem a bit… dour right now. I know you said the captain was on medical leave, and I hate to be nosy but…”

“The captain is quite alright, Lieutenant- in all likelihood, you will see him back on the bridge tomorrow. And I apologise if my general demeanour has been coming across as less than content- I will do my best to rectify it, for the sake of crew morale.”

“Oh, it was not a criticism Mr. Spock!”, Uhura clarifies hastily. “I was merely… concerned. As a friend.”

“I appreciate that lieutenant.”, he says, giving her a small nod. “But I assure you, I am perfectly fine- please pass along my message to the prince consort and let me know what his response is.”

“Right away, sir.”, she smiles at him before walking back to her station.

After less than a minute, she calls back over to him, hand over her headset:

“Prince Grunig is willing to speak to you now Mr. Spock, over video call- shall I patch him through?”

“Yes, thank you lieutenant.”, Spock calls back, pulling up the captain’s screen and putting in his own earpiece. “I am ready to receive.”

She turns a dial, and a second later, Prince Grunig’s round, turquoise face turns up on his screen, a smarmy-looking smile spread across it. He was resting his clawed hands on a large, varnished desk, each of his fingers covered in golden rings, studded with jewels and precious gems. Spock had never met the prince consort in person before, but he recognised him from photos: he was a lot older than his wife, the princess regent, being forty years her senior and he very much looked it. His face was lined and leathery, and the thinning hair on his head white and wispy, a contrast to the thick, flowing hair that grew out of his chin- his beard was elaborately styled, set in three plaits that were carefully curled at the ends, and he had a twirling moustache to match. When he had been looking through Dr McCoy’s memories, he recalled the good doctor had been having a difficult time sitting across from this man, partly because he had to keep repressing the urge to make fun of his facial hair, but mostly because he made for rather odious dinner company.

Grunig Miza had already been an incredibly wealthy man long before he married into the Vallen royal family, as the prime owner of several successful enterprises, including a major weapons facility, a company specialising in cosmetics and plastic surgery, and several popular restaurant chains that could be found throughout many a galaxy outpost. His wealth and influence had only grown when he married into the royal family, though his first wife had not actually been the princess regent, but her first cousin. They had been married seemingly happily for twenty years, but then one day, only one month after her cousin had been sworn in as princess regent in fact, she had been reported missing. Her body was eventually found out at sea- official story was that she had drowned after her yacht had capsized unexpectedly.

Only two months later, Grunig and Princess Feronzi had announced their engagement, followed by a very opulent, presumably very expensive royal wedding- paid for out of their people’s taxes, of course. The rich did not stay rich by paying out of their own pocket, after all.

Spock was not one for entertaining conspiracy theories usually, but he could not help but suspect the cousin’s death had been a little more nefarious in its nature than what was officially reported. Grunig did seem like the type to replace his wife with a younger, richer, more influential model if such an opportunity arose, particularly one set to inherit the throne once her father had finally succumbed to his illness.

According to the transcripts Spock had taken time to read through, along with Jim and McCoy’s own recollections of the events, Grunig had been a key figure during the alliance talks, with most of his contributions coming in the form of requests for permissions to build more of his manufacturing facilities off-planet, specifically on other planets within the Federation. Most of his requests had been denied, barring a few barren desert planets with little to no signs of life, and that had seemed to satisfy him just fine for now.

However, the fact Grunig was wanting to arrange another meeting to re-look over the initial agreement did worry Spock- Starfleet had done their best to placate the man without entertaining some of his more outrageous demands so far, but who’s to say they would hold out forever?

“Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise, I presume?”, Grunig’s gravelly voice comes through the monitor, the smug grin still plastered on his face. “Pleased to make your acquaintance- though, I do confess, I was seeking an audience with your captain…”

“Captain Kirk is currently unavailable as of today, but I am happy to pass on any messages you have for him- otherwise, we can arrange a meeting for tomorrow…”

“Oh, no, don’t trouble yourself my good man!”, Grunig laughs, waving a hand at him. “I merely wanted to extend an invitation to Captain Kirk to visit me and my wife’s humble abode, let him have a place at the table for this next set of negotiations- after all, his input was very much appreciated the last time…”

“Your invitation has been noted your highness- however…”, Spock pauses, considering. Lying had never exactly come easy to him, but working amongst a human crew these last few years, he had become a lot more practiced at it. “… Captain Kirk is still recovering from a virus he caught during last weekend’s talks, and we cannot guarantee he will be symptom-less or non-contagious before the Enterprise is set to leave port…”

“Oh, you Vulcans and your goddamn politeness!”, Grunig chortles, running a hand through one of his long beard strands. “Just say he’s still recovering from the night he had with my wife, commander- I’m perfectly aware of what a little minx she is! She takes five years off my lifespan every time we try out the marriage bed, let me tell you…”

Spock had never been so grateful for his Vulcan upbringing and his own adherence to the teachings of Surak. Otherwise, he didn’t think he could’ve stopped himself from snapping off the armrests of the captain chair in an unbridled fit of rage. He cannot stop a muscle in his jaw from flickering, and he can see from across the room that Uhura has noticed his rare loss of restraint, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“… I assure you, that is not the reason, your highness.”, he responds stoically, placing his hands on his lap. “I will pass on your message to the captain, and he will let you know if he is able to attend or not. If he is unable, we will, of course, send another senior officer in his steed. I am happy to volunteer if necessary…”

“That, uh… won’t be necessary Commander Spock…”, Grunig grimaces, the smug smile now gone from his face. “You must understand, I am not prejudiced against the Vulcan people, but I’m afraid I can’t say the same for the rest of our heads of state- it wouldn’t be good PR for us, and unnecessary stress for yourself, having to deal with bigots all day long. You can understand, surely?”

“Perfectly, your highness.”, Spock nods, even though he’s pretty sure Grunig actually cared very little about his general comfort. “In that case, we can send down other senior officers…”

“Actually, between me and you, Commander Spock…”, Grunig whispers, which seems unnecessary since Spock is listening through his earpiece. “… it is really my wife that wants the captain to attend our little get-together- wants to give him a little parting gift before he leaves Vallen, if you catch my drift? So, if Captain Kirk could find it in himself to leave his sick bed, well… let’s just say these re-negotiations could go very smoothly… for all of us…”

“Understood… your highness.”, Spock nods stiffly, just wanting to end this unpleasant conversation as soon as possible. “As I say, I will pass on your message to Captain Kirk, and I will let you know his response as soon as I am able.”

“Good man! Good man!”, Grunig exclaims, clapping his hands together, before giving a perverted little smirk into the camera. “And please tell him that both me, and especially my wife, wish him a very speedy recovery.”

“I will pass on your well wishes, your highness.”, Spock says, his eyes wandering over to Uhura, who is nervously approaching him again, PADD in hand. “Was there anything else, or…”

“No, no! You get back to your important work, my boy!”, Grunig smiles at him, showing off his bright white fangs as he holds up a mangled Vulcan salute. “Live well and prosper, and all that!”

Spock bristles a little when he hears his people’s words come out of the odious man’s mouth, but he does not think it is noticeable through the video screen. He returns the salute before signing off, allowing  a moment to collect himself before turning to Uhura, who is staring down at him with her big, dark eyes.

“Yes Lieutenant?”, he sighs, hoping she isn’t here to ask about his general wellbeing again.

“Sorry sir… but I’ve just had another request come in for Captain Kirk. Admiral Lawson wishes to speak with him. He would not tell me what he wished to talk to him about, just that he wanted to see him as soon as possible.”

Spock raises an eyebrow at her- Admiral Lawson was an extremely high-up member of Starfleet, having been in the position of admiral for nearly twenty years now. He knew he had been present at the talks last weekend and would be a key player going forward with the alliance, but he didn’t think Jim had ever had so much as a conversation with the man.

“Please tell the admiral that the captain is not currently available, but that he can talk to me if he wishes to…”

“See, I tried to tell him that commander…”, Uhura interrupts him, an uncomfortable look on her face.  “… but he insisted that he would only speak to the captain, and it had to be in person.”

Spock raises his eyebrow even higher.

“In person?”

“Yes, commander.”, she nods. “He is already on-board the Enterprise.”

Chapter Text

“I fucked up, Bones.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, Jim.”, Bones mutters, leaning over him as he attaches more sensors to his bare chest. “Believe it or not, I’m a doctor, not a mind reader.”

Jim sighs as he slumps forward, coming dangerously close to falling off of Bones’s examination table; he is shirtless and has a number of wires attached to his body, all leading to some very interesting looking machines that buzzed and beeped away.

“I… said some really hurtful things. To Spock. Stuff I can’t take back…”

“Jim, just because I know about you two now, doesn’t make me your marriage counsellor.” When he looks up and sees how defeated Jim looks, he rolls his eyes and concedes grumpily: “Okay, tell me what happened then…”

“Well… I used his insecurities about being… different… against him, and… ow!”, Jim suddenly yelps as Bones, without warning, jams a needle into his arm. “What the hell Bones?!”

“Sorry Jim, I need a blood sample.”

“I keep telling you, making it a surprise doesn’t make it hurt any less!”

“I think the research is still inconclusive Jim… anyway, you insulted hobgoblin for being different? What did you say? Did you tell him his ears look weird? Or that his haircut is stupid?”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Dear god, you really are in love with him…”, Bones groans, shaking his head sadly. “Denying reality…”

“Shut up.”, Jim mutters, closing his eyes. “Anyway, that would’ve been better than what I said. I basically told him that he looked down on me and all humans for being emotional, that he couldn’t really understand me, being Vulcan and all…”

“Okay…”, Bones shrugs, pressing his dermal regenerator to his arm, healing up the sample area. “… kind of an asshole move, but hardly relationship-ending. Believe me, I would know- you gotta say way more hurtful things, bring their mother into it or something…”

“You don’t get it, Bones! It was only a couple of nights ago he was confiding in me that he was worried he wouldn’t be able to support me through this because he doesn’t regulate his emotions the same way I do. And… I threw it back in his face. He was vulnerable with me, and I used it against him.”

“Jim…”, Bones sighs, leaning over him as he makes small adjustments to the sensors. “… I’m not going to pretend I know hobgoblin as well as you, but I do know he looks at you like you hung the moon… just bat your pretty eyelashes at him, and I’m sure he’ll forgive you pretty quick.”

“But he shouldn’t have to, Bones! He’s been the most supportive partner you could ask for through all this, and here I am, being a complete jackass!”

“You said it, not me.”

“Bones…”

“Okay, okay…”, he mutters, walking over to his computer and observing the readings. “… so if hobgoblin’s such a saint, allegedly, why’d you blow up at him?”

“He… well…”, Jim hesitates, glancing over at Bones. “… I tried to go to the bridge this morning, to work, and he wouldn’t let me.”

“Wow, what a monster.”, Bones says sarcastically, shaking his head. “Next you’ll be telling me he tells you off for riding your bike without a helmet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, it sounds stupid…”, Jim groans, covering his face with his hands. “But I… I had such a shit night Bones, I spent the whole night having nightmares or staring at the ceiling…”

“Never mind, you’ve convinced me- you’re absolutely fit to work today…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it Bones, I’m an idiot. It’s just… I spent all night feeling so useless and pathetic, and Spock was doing his best to comfort me and all, but… it just made me feel worse. I was just this weeping mess, and he was having to tend to me…”

“That’s what partners do, Jim.”

“Yes, but I shouldn’t act like that! I’ve been through way worse stuff than this, I go out risking my life every other week! And besides, I’m the captain of this whole operation, I should be able to withstand most things the universe throws my way…”

“Did you confuse ‘captain of a Starfleet vessel’ with ‘superhuman’ by any chance?”

“Bones, I’m being serious!”

“So am I, Jim.”, Bones says, looking over at him grimly. “You had a terrible thing happen to you- it’s natural, hell, human for you to be going through it…”

“But… it wasn’t like it was violent or anything. I mean, sure, she drew blood, but, you know, nothing awful… and sure, it was scary, seeing myself out of control like that, but it wasn’t like she held me down or anything.”

“Jim, what if something like this had happened to me? Or Spock, for that matter?”

He winces.

“Please, don’t make me think about that…”

“No, I think I will, because it sounds like it’s the only way to get through to you- would you be expecting us to be back at our stations literally the next day, happy as larry?”

“No, but…”

“But nothing, Jim! God, it’s like you’ve got one set of rules for yourself, and another for everyone else.”, Bones shakes his head exasperated. “If the only way for you to look after yourself is to pretend you’re someone you care about, well, do that! Because I don’t know how to get it through your thick skull, otherwise!”

Bones pauses, clearly taken aback by how heated he’s getting, before just sighing and turning back to his computer monitor. Jim sits in silence for a bit as Bones types away, feeling the fatigue settle into his bones.

“Bones, I…”, he finally says, sighing heavily. “… look, you’re right, I know you’re right. It’s just… I hate feeling like this. Useless, immobile, weak… I can’t stand it. It just takes me back to… when I was younger. After Tarsus…”

The doctor stops typing, and looks over at Jim with such compassion, he feels himself start to well up. He looks down at his lap, unable to look into Bones’s big blue eyes right now.

“Jim, you… you’ve never really talked about it all that much…”

“Yeah, well, for good reason.”, he shrugs, eyes still downcast. “Doesn’t exactly make for comfortable dinner party conversation… and besides, I hashed it all out in therapy years ago. No need to go dredging it up again…”

“Yeah, well…”, Bones mutters, hands in his pockets. “… trauma has a habit of dredging itself up again and again- whether you choose to talk about it or not.”

“I suppose…”, Jim winces, thinking back to last night. “Spock asked me if I wanted to take something to help me sleep, and I… kind of shut him down. Because… it got me thinking about this guy I used to know. A fellow survivor from Tarsus IV. We kept in touch for a while, but he… had a hard time coping with life, did a lot of self-medication, and we lost touch eventually. Then I found out a few years ago that he… well, he overdosed, on sleeping pills. Something his doctor prescribed him…”

“Jim…”, Bones whispers, sitting himself down beside him now, placing a careful hand on his arm.

“Yes, yes, I know…”, Jim chuckles, wiping away a small tear. “It’s stupid… got nothing to do with any of this…”

“No, it’s not stupid.”, Bones tells him firmly. “Shit, you never even told me about that…”

“We were probably busy with the mission at the time- no time to sit down and vent, really. And besides, like I said, we hadn’t talked in years, me and him. But still… it hit hard. Mainly because I felt guilty about losing touch, but also… it got me thinking about… me, I guess. Bones, most days I feel fine, but other days…”, Jim exhales, knuckles pressed against his forehead. “… sometimes it feels like I’m one bad day away from losing it completely. I worry that… one more person dying on my watch, one more mission gone wrong, and that’ll be it for me. That I’ll… one day be in the same head space he was in, when he chose to end it…”

Bones lunges forward and envelops him in a forceful hug, and Jim clutches him back, tightly. Generally speaking, they usually weren’t that touchy-feely with each other, so this was kind of a weird moment for both of them, but Jim found he didn’t hate it. At all.

When Bones finally releases him, coughing in embarrassment, Jim notes the moist redness around his eyes, and he feels his heart clench a little- you always knew it was serious when Bones started crying.

“Look, Jim…”, Bones scowls at him, sniffing a little as he wipes at his eyes. “… that is… not going to happen. I’d… I’d kill you myself first!”

Taken aback at first by that little bit of dark humour, Jim suddenly finds himself chuckling loudly, and it must be contagious because Bones starts chortling too, and soon they are both doubling over, clutching their sides as they struggled to breathe, hanging onto each other for dear life in the middle of the medical bay.

“It’s… it’s not… funny… Jim… I… I… mean it!”

“I… know… Bones…”, Jim wheezes, wiping very different tears from his eyes. “That’s… why… I’m… laughing!”

By the time the two men finally get the giggles out of their system, the computer starts beeping away, indicating that the test results are ready.

“Alright, Jim, let’s take a look here…”, Bones mutters, moving his features back into a serious expression. “According to this, you are suffering from sleep withdrawal, your resting heart rate is up twenty percent from your usual, and your cortisol, epinephrine and norepinephrine levels are through the roof… besides that, Jim, you are good to go.”

“Really, Bones?”

“No, obviously not. Rest up for today, and we’ll do another physical tomorrow… we’ll also get one of our on-board psychologists to assess you, test your reaction times, that sort of thing… and get you a referral for a bucketload of therapy.”

He sees the look on Jim’s face and sighs:

“Look, I know you haven’t been the biggest fan of therapy in the past Jim, but I do think you need to talk to someone professional- you need someone outside of your inner circle to talk to, you can’t just rely on me and Spock. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of- a lot of our crew talk to a counsellor on a weekly basis, and you’ve got a lot more pressure on you than most…”

“Bones.”, Jim interrupts him, putting up a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll go, I promise- whatever you and the rest of your team recommend, I’ll do. It’s just… as I said, I don’t like feeling like this. I’m the captain, and I have an entire crew relying on me… it just feels like I can’t afford to have bad days…”

“Everyone has bad days, Jim.”

“Not everyone is responsible for over four-hundred lives, Bones.”

Bones just snorts at that.

“Oh, keep making out you’re more important than you actually are!”

When Jim’s miserable expression doesn’t flicker, Bones changes tactic:

“Hey, remember when you had to come rescue me from that bar back on Earth, a year before the mission started? When my divorce just got finalised?”

“Why the change of topic, Bones?”, Jim asks, eyeing him suspiciously. “You aren’t trying to distract me, are you? Gonna stab me with another needle?”

“Just answer the question, Jim- do you remember?”

“How can I forget, Bones?! I paid your bail! And when you got back to my place, you threw up all over my carpet- couldn’t get the stains out for months…”

“Yes, so tell me Jim- what part of that special night made you think: ‘You know who I want as my personal doctor on a five-year mission, thousands of lightyears away from any kind of civilisation? This drunken fool!’”

Jim just shakes his head.

“I… knew how capable you were Bones. You were just… in a bad place at the time…”

“And there we have it again, Jim…”, Bones sighs, slapping him on the back. “… holding yourself to a whole different set of standards to everyone else. Jim, if you can forgive me for ruining your carpet and making your pockets one-thousand credits lighter, I think you can also afford to be a little nicer to yourself- no one is asking you to be perfect. And… speaking as a friend… I don’t want you to pretend you don’t have bad days. I’ve had bad days, Jim, a lot of them and… pretending otherwise doesn’t help. You’re just going to get stuck in your own head, winding yourself up over the smallest things, becoming a pain in my backside...”

Jim smiles softly at him, and Bones groans:

“Okay, get that stupid look off your face, this is just the mental-health equivalent of me telling you to eat your greens…”

“Yes, I know. Love you, Bones!”

“Go to hell Jim.”

“Only if you meet me there…”

“Ugh.”, he says, pulling a face. “Don’t you have the hobgoblin to go flirt with, instead? He can actually stand to look at your ugly mug…”

Jim’s smile wavers.

“I don’t know if he’ll want to see me right now…”

“Jim, I told you. I can say a lot of things about that Vulcan, but he doesn’t hold a grudge… just say you’re sorry, tell him what you just told me and I dunno, get him a bouquet of roses or something? Hobgoblins like flowers, right? To eat, I mean- must be why they have green blood…”

“Thanks for the advice, Bones- don’t let anyone ever tell you a divorced man can’t be a marriage counsellor.”

“Get stuffed Kirk. Also… sorry to ask, but is me giving you a little something to help with your little bout of insomnia completely off the table? It’s your choice, of course, but if it’ll help you catch up with your sleep today, then you can take a much smaller dose tomorrow, and go off it completely after that…”

Jim hesitates a moment before nodding. 

“Sure- whatever you think will help, doc.”

“Great, I’ll whip something up for you- and you can put your shirt back on, Jim.”

Just as he says that, Bones’s computer starts beeping away, with a message saying ‘incoming call’. Frowning, Bones walks over to answer it:

“McCoy here- what’s up?”

“It's Lieutenant Uhura, doctor- is Captain Kirk with you? I couldn’t reach him in his quarters.”

“Morning Lieutenant!”, Jim calls over his shoulder as he shimmies his shirt back on. “Everything okay on the bridge?”

“Yes sir. I’m just calling to let you know Admiral Lawson has beamed onto the Enterprise and is demanding to see you- he is waiting in the observation lounge.”

“Tell him the captain is unavailable- and to go boil his head. Doctor’s orders.”, Bones responds snarkily. “If he still gives you trouble Lieutenant, tell him Dr McCoy is to blame…”

“Bones, wait! Admiral Lawson?”, Jim interrupts, eyes narrowing. “Why would he be wanting to see me? He’s one of Starfleet’s most decorated admirals- he wouldn’t be giving me a social call if it wasn’t important.”

Bones just shakes his head.

“Spock can deal with it.”

“The commander has already tried to talk to the admiral, doctor.”, Uhura’s voice reverbs through the comm. “But he just insisted he wouldn’t leave until he had a chance to speak with the captain.”

Jim frowns.

“Sounds serious Lieutenant- I’ll be up there soon, just have to change into my uniform. Kirk out.”

“Jim!”, Bones exclaims, turning to him furiously as he presses the disconnect button. “What did we just talk about?!”

“Yes, rest, I heard you Bones… but Lawson wouldn’t have beamed up to the Enterprise if it wasn’t something major. And if he only wants to talk to me, well… sounds like something of a classified nature. I’ll just go see what he wants, and then I’ll go rest up in my room, promise.” He looks over at Bone’s disbelieving face and sighs deeply. “Promise Bones. Just… leave the sleeping aid in my quarters, would you? I’ll probably be needing it after hearing whatever the admiral came to tell me…”

Chapter Text

One Year Ago

Jim coughs wretchedly as he accidentally inhales the black, putrid smoke wafting all around him- his lungs feel like they’re on fire, his chest tight and painful, and he can taste acid and soot on his tongue. He hobbles forward, pawing at the wreckage for balance, unable to put his weight on what was likely a broken leg. Covering his mouth with his sleeve, he tries to make sense of his surroundings through the smoke, his eyes irritated and streaming- he had to find some way to escape this burning hellscape, before what remained collapsed on top of him. He always knew this mission might end up killing him, but he wouldn’t let it be today.

It was supposed to be a simple operation: get emergency supplies to the colonists, fix up their medical centre and make a report back to Starfleet. There had been no signs of hostilities when they landed, the colonists had seemed relieved to see them, perhaps overly so in hindsight, and there had been little to no trouble getting their people down planet-side.

But it hadn’t taken long for things to go very wrong- it turned out the reason the colonists had sent a distress call was because they had been forced, under duress, to attract the attention of a Starfleet vessel by a nefarious group of traffickers, keen to get their hands on starship technology and some very expensive hostages. Jim didn’t bear the colonists any ill will- after all, the traffickers had rounded up all their children and imprisoned them in an abandoned underground mine, threatening to blow the place up with the children still inside if they didn’t do what they said.

But, still. It wasn’t exactly ideal.

They’d taken down most of the traffickers after some clever subterfuge on their part, and managed to free the children trapped in the mines, returning them to their grateful, tearful parents. But then it became evident that several children were still missing, along with some of the more dangerous members of the trafficking gang, including the leader of this whole operation, a war-grizzled Cardassian. Him and his rescue team had gone down into the mines again, on a hunch that they were likely hiding out there. Sure enough, they found the three remaining gang members holding the missing children hostage, their weapons trained on them, and the leader with a detonator in hand. It looked like it was going to be a messy stand-off, but then some strange clicking noises attracted the attention of the two adversary groups, taking their attention off each other. Jim had taken advantage of the distraction and managed to stun the two gang members who had their weapons trained on the children, both of them falling to the ground, hard. Two members of his own team took a shot at the leader, one of them succeeding and hitting him directly in the chest, throwing him backwards against the cave wall. Him and the rest of his rescue team had then grabbed the children and started heading back the way they came, fairly slowly as many of the hostages had to be carried, they were so small and frail.

Then, the clicking noises started up again, and out of the shadows came the creatures: pale, with impossibly long limbs, sharp claws and mouths that opened obscenely wide as they gave off a high-pitched scream. They ran down the tunnels at them, their long arms flailing as they went. They had tried shooting to kill, but their weapons were ineffective, and as they got closer and closer, Jim could see they had some kind of hard exoskeleton that just seemed to absorb their phasers.

With his men carrying the children, Jim knew it wouldn’t be long before the creatures caught up with them. So when they come to a diverging set of tunnels, he orders his men to go left with the children, while he’ll go right. His team had protested, but he just screams at them to go, that it was a direct order from their captain. Reluctantly, they left him, the children in tow, while Jim started sprinting down the right-hand tunnel, shouting as he went. When he’d gotten a better look at the creatures before, he’d noticed they’d had ears but no eyes to speak of, which made him think they relied on their hearing to find their way around.

Luckily or unluckily for him, he was correct. As he continued to shout like a madman, all the creatures had followed him, completely ignoring his men and the children as they hurried to safety. The corridors had been dark, nearly pitch-black in places, and Jim was starting to find his own eyesight was starting to fail him as he sprinted forward, occasionally stumbling on a loose rock or discarded bit of machinery.

Eventually, he saw light again, but as he had hurried towards it, he discovered that the glow was emitting from lanterns the traffickers had left out, their three paralysed bodies still lying there, not stirring.

He was back where he had started. And it was a dead end.

He’d span around, only to see the creatures emerging from the tunnel, still hissing and screaming. They’d ran forward, blindly, but he managed to flail out of their way, accidentally falling over the trafficker leader’s body as he did so. He had come dangerously close to landing directly on the detonator, his palm lying an inch beside it, and as had he tried to sit himself up, he sees the horrible sight of the creatures surrounding the bodies of the two other paralysed men, their mouths opening even wider before biting down, blood spurting out of disembodied limbs. One of the creatures had turned its blind head in his direction and started making those clicking noises with its claws again, and Jim was able to work out it was doing some kind of echolocation, trying to gauge its surroundings.

And as it started slowly crawling forwards, he realised with great horror that it could see him, its mouth opening wide, showing off a curly tongue and sharp teeth.

Jim had glanced down at the detonator in that moment, before swiftly making his choice.

If it was his time, he wasn’t going out like this, goddamnit. Better a fiery explosion than being eaten alive by some demon in this godforsaken hellhole…

He whispered a small ‘sorry’ to he doesn’t know who, maybe himself, and pressed the button, closing his eyes as he did so.

For a second, there had been nothing.

Then, one of the loudest noises he had ever heard in his life rung through the air, and he had been flung violently upwards, his vision going white, only to soon be replaced with complete blackness. Next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes, surrounded by flames, and it was difficult to breathe. 

He’d never been quite sure if he believed in hell or not, but in that very moment, he couldn’t help but wonder.

He must’ve passed out, but he couldn’t have said for how long, just that when he opened his eyes again, he was lying in some kind of crater, every inch of his limbs hurting, but especially his leg, white hot pain firing through the limb as he tried to stand himself up on it. He supposed he was lucky he had been far enough from the explosives that he’d only felt the force of it through the solid rock, rather than being burnt alive to a crisp, but it was difficult to feel lucky as heavy black smoke started filling the collapsed tunnels, and pretty soon, his lungs. He tried his communicator, but there was no signal, and he doubted he could even tell anyone where he approximately was if he tried. He could be near the planet’s central core for all he knew.

He kept going, because it was all he could do- he was probably going to die down here, he knew that, but he would go down fighting, goddamnit. Like a captain was supposed to…

He tries to climb up the debris, up to higher ground, but finds he has little strength left in his limbs, and he is very much struggling to breathe right now. Just as he feels the urge to give up completely, his hazy mind ready to accept oblivion, a blinding light appears before him.

Jim shields his eyes, squinting- is this what death looked like? Is that what was coming for him?

But then he hears the voice, the sweet, sweet low timbre of…

“Captain? Captain!”, Spock yells, scrambling down the rock pile, a clear filtration mask attached to his face. Once he reaches his side, he pulls another mask out of his bag and clips it onto Jim’s face. He flicks a switch, and suddenly his sore, scratchy lungs are breathing clean, delicious-tasting oxygen. His chest and throat still hurt, but he still makes himself inhale and exhale deeply, over and over again, until his head is just a little clearer, less hazy, until it no longer feels like he’s underwater.

“Sp... Spock…”, he croaks, as his first officer lifts him easily over his shoulder into something resembling a fireman’s carry, showing off that Vulcan strength. “How did… how did you…”

“Save your energy, Captain.”, Spock’s voice comes out robotically through the mask’s filtration device, sprinting back up the debris towards solid ground like it was nothing. “We’re still a long way from the exit, and you require urgent medical attention…”

“… just my leg… and… my lungs…”, he wheezes, which does nothing to soften Spock’s heavy glare. He was definitely pissed at him for being reckless once again, but that was an argument to be had once they were both back on the Enterprise, not down in this hellhole.

Holding on to Jim with one hand, Spock gets his communicator out, shouting coordinates furiously into it, raising his arm up and down in frustration.

Jim shakes his head:

“Good luck getting a signal down here… believe me, I’ve been trying…”

“Then we will go to higher ground… the rest of the search party cannot be far behind…”

“Spock...”, he coughs, grimacing in pain. “… why are you on your own down here? Shouldn’t you have stayed with the others?”

“Negative, Captain- due to my biology, I am much faster and have far greater endurance than the average human- and I am stronger, so less likely to die from the rockfall. It was only logical that I go ahead, to increase the likelihood of you being found before this underground structure underwent any further collapse …”

“What if you had gotten hurt down here? Nobody would know where to find you…”

“Captain, as I said, save your energy. We will have time to discuss this at a later point in time…”

Conceding to his logic, Jim rests his head against Spock’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he does his best to control his breathing. After a while, it’s almost back to normal, minus a very sore throat and some sharp chest pains.

But then he hears a very familiar clicking noise and his eyes fly open again, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid.

“Spock…”, he whispers against his pointed ears. “… stay… very…quiet.”

“What is it, Captain?”, Spock whispers back, coming to a stop, his black eyes darting about urgently as the clicking noises got louder and louder.

“Creatures… saw them before… they ran after us… they ate those criminals, and they were going for me next…”

“Anything I should know about them?”, Spock whispers, shifting the weight on his back.

“Blind… I think they find their way through echolocation… strong exoskeleton, phasers couldn’t penetrate it.”

Spock nods slowly, before carefully settling Jim down on the cave floor. He doesn’t have to explain why- the clicking was sounding very close now, the creature was likely just round the corner.

The two men hold their breaths as they see a shadow move across the stone walls, willing whatever the thing was to just walk on by, to be distracted by the sound of some fallen shrapnel or debris further down the tunnel.

No such luck- the creature suddenly slides in front of them, crawling on all-fours now, and with one last large click, it turns towards them and opens its mouth, emitting a terrible, high-pitched scream.

Before Jim had even so much as a chance to flinch, Spock is rushing forward, making very un-Spock-like noises as he runs down the corridor, attracting the full attention of the creature, leaving Jim to desperately hobble after them- he knew he wasn’t going to be any help in his condition, but he couldn’t leave Spock behind with that thing.

When he does finally catch up with them, he finds Spock backed against a dead end, dodging and weaving away from the creature’s long, sharp claws. He can only avoid its blind flailing for so long though, and when the creature finally makes contact, it slashes at Spock’s shoulder, tearing his uniform open and leaving deep green gashes.

Jim yelled out in horror, and just as suddenly, the creature’s attention turns towards him.

‘Thank God the thing also seems to lack object permanence’ was his initial thought as the creatures starts scuttling towards him, away from Spock, its claws dragging along the stone floor.

Jim tries to get away, but he just ends up falling to the ground, white hot pain shooting up from his broken leg as he scrapes his knees.

He closes his eyes and waits for the final blow as the creature bellows, his ears screaming in pain…

… and then, silence.

Still shaking, he opens his eyes again, only to see the creature slumped forward in front of him, its legs collapsed underneath itself, something sharp and metallic-looking embedded into the side of its skull. He looks up, only to see Spock standing above him, breathing heavily, his shoulder wound still bleeding, viridescent green liquid dripping down his arm onto his uniform. Jim raises a shaky hand and points at the creature:

“Is it…?”

“It is dead- I had a theory, that the inside of their ear was likely soft tissue, and that if a knife was pushed in there with enough force, it would penetrate through to the brain. Luckily, I was correct.”

“No kidding…” Jim mutters, trying to push himself up again, and then immediately regretting it as he doubles over in pain. Spock rushes forward and kneels beside him, but he tries to wave him off: “I’m fine, I’m fine… just keep forgetting about my leg. Anyway… you’re not exactly in great shape yourself.”

He gestures at his shoulder and Spock’s mouth forms a thin line, his face paler than Jim has seen it in a while.

“It is just a flesh wound- as soon as we make our way back to the search party, the doctors can tend to us. Actually…”, Spock purses his lips and digs his communicator out, his eyes widening slightly as he looks down at it. “Captain, I have a signal now! Let me just…”

He turns the knob, static noise emitting from the device. But after some more twisting and playing around with the controls, they suddenly hear Bones’s glorious, pissed-off voice, slightly distorted by the weak signal:

“Come in, Mr. Spock! Commander! Hobgoblin! Please give your position, I repeat, please give your position you pointy-eared…’

“Bones!”, Jim laughs joyfully, grinning ear to ear.  “We’re here, we’re both here…”

“Jim! Goddamnit Jim, where are you two?!”

“Here are our coordinates, doctor…”, Spock says calmly, and as he continues speaking to Bones, getting an idea of how long it will take the rescue party to meet them, Jim can’t help but notice an odd sound, like metal scraping against solid rock. Were the caves about to collapse on them again, along with some mining equipment?

But then a figure comes round the corner, and it takes Jim a moment to recognise the Cardassian gang leader, his face is so bruised and bloody, and his expression disfigured by an ugly sneer. He had assumed he’d been crushed in the initial room collapse- goddamnit, he was a persistent bastard.

Well, that’s what they got for automatically setting their weapons to stun.

It takes him another moment for him to realise that what the Cardassian is holding is a long, sharpened metal pole, likely collected from one of the of the collapsed mining structures.

“Spock!”, Jim screams, pointing behind him. “Look out!”

The Vulcan whirls around just in time to see the Cardassian try to bring the pole down on his skull, and he quickly rolls both him and Jim out of the way, Jim’s vision blacking out as he writhes on the floor in pain. When he looks back up, he sees Spock ducking to avoid another hard swing from the Cardassian, before managing to grab the side of the pole and is able to start pushing his assailant up against the wall. He tries to bring the pole up to the Cardassian’s throat, but he just takes advantage of Spock’s loosened grip and punches him in the face, breaking open the clear seal of the filtration mask, Spock stumbling backwards from the force.

On any other day, this should’ve been an easy fight- Spock was not only a strong fighter, but a strategic one, able to easily outmanoeuvre his opponents with only a few well-planned moves. However, his fight with the creature had clearly tired him and he’d already lost a significant amount of blood- the fatigue was settling in as the Cardassian kept swinging the sharp side of the pole at him, and any time Spock attempted to reach for his phaser, he left his body open and vulnerable to attack.

Jim grapples desperately for his own phaser, breathing a sigh of relief when he finds he still has it on him. However, as he tries to point it at the Cardassian, he realises to his horror that he’s unable to aim properly: his arms are shaking too much, and his vision too hazy. And Spock and the Cardassian were too close together, grappling chest to chest, metal bar between them. There’s no way he can attempt to shoot when he had an equal chance of accidentally hitting Spock.

Still, he points it, his hands tremoring, waiting for a clear shot.

Suddenly, the Cardassian is able to push Spock off so that he stumbles backwards, slamming his head against the wall.

Jim takes his chance and shoots.

He misses, the energy blast narrowly missing the top of the Cardassian’s skull, who is momentarily distracted by the heat and sudden blast of light, his head snapping in Jim’s direction. Spock takes advantage of this momentary distraction, and rushes forward, ready to grab the Cardassian by the neck and then…

… the Cardassian suddenly whirls around, alerted to Spock’s sudden movements. He strikes him across the face with the side of the metal bar, and Spock collapses to the ground, crumpling to the stone floor in a heap. Jim raises his phaser again, pressing down the trigger…

… and it doesn’t fire.

He realises to his horror that the energy cell has ran out, and he immediately starts scrambling around his pack for a spare...

… and the Cardassian raises up the metal pole, just as Jim locates a spare cell, and clumsily reloads.

He raises his hand to fire…

… and at the very same time, the Cardassian plunges the sharp side of the pole right into the middle of Spock’s chest, who lets out a strangled gasp, and then…

… his head falls back, and he goes still.

Very still.

Jim fires, and he doesn’t miss this time, but he barely registers the Cardassian collapsing, the metal pole clanging to the ground with him. He’s just crawling towards Spock now as fast as he is physically able, the pain lighting up his knee making him feel nauseous, but he cannot care about that, he only cares about one thing right now...

“Spock!”, he hisses, shaking the very pale man by the shoulders, his head lolling limply from side to side. His eyes are closed, delicate black lashes resting gently against the top of his cheek. If it wasn’t for the dark green stain seeping out from the middle of his chest or the stark whiteness of his skin, this might’ve been mistaken for peaceful slumber.

“Spock, please, wake up!”, he shouts, slapping him lightly across the face. No response. He can’t see him breathing, there is no visible fall and rise of his chest. He feels for a pulse, but either he’s unable to locate it, or…

“Hey! Stop scaring me!”, Jim whispers, slapping him across the face a little harder this time. “Come on Spock, just… open your eyes, please…”

There’s no response, no recognition, he just lies there. Unmoving. Silent.

“Sp… Spock… search party… B… Bones will be here soon… you gotta…”, Jim takes a shuddering breath, overwhelming panic consuming him. He feels for a pulse again, but still, nothing.

He brings his hands down to his chest, trying to put pressure on the wound, but his hands feel too big, too clumsy as he pushes down. He tries chest compressions, but his hands are covered in the green substance now, slippery and slimy, Spock’s body just rocking away like a sack of sawdust under his attentions.

Jim starts shaking as the metallic scent of blood fills his nostrils, the overwhelming sense of helplessness too much to bear.

“Spock, Spock… please just…”, hot, fat tears start falling down Jim’s cheek as he continues his compressions, despising how weak and fatigued his body was right now. “Don’t leave me Spock! Come on, just… come on you’re going to be fine…”

But even as he feels his own arms give out on him, his vision going fuzzy, Spock just lies there, limply.

And Jim feels the entire world collapse around him, bile rising up in his throat as he stares down at Spock’s pale face, his own hands covered in his dark green blood.

No, no, no, not him, anyone but him. Me instead, please, I’d take his place, gladly…

Please don’t take him.

Please.

Not him.

“Spock?”, Jim whimpers, running a bloodied hand through his neat fringe. He was cold to the touch, as always, but was he colder than usual? He pinches his cheek, pokes him on the eyelid, flicks his ear, anything to try and get a reaction, but still nothing.

It feels like his chest is a cavern of horrors and unending terror, and that it is currently being violently ripped open by someone’s cruel, bare hands. As he gathers Spock’s limp body into his arms, clutching him tightly as he rocks back and forth, he lets out a guttural scream, so loud he’s surprised the whole cave doesn’t come down on top of them just then.

“Help! Help me, anyone!”, he wails, his voice echoing back at him, mockingly, inside the cavernous space. “Anyone, please! Help!”

It’s like he’s reverted back to a terrified child, just wanting an adult to swoop in and make this all better.

But there was no making this better, not if he was…

He lets out another pained, guttural scream, and this time, someone answers.

“Jim? Jim! Are you around here? Shout again…”

Before he can even comply to his request, Bones appears from behind the wall, his wide eyes growing even wider when he sees the sight of Jim cradling a white-faced Spock in his arms, his hands covered in his green blood.

“Oh, shit! M’Benga, get over here, now! Spock’s hurt bad…”, Bones rushes forward and makes Jim let Spock go, lying him on his back as he runs his scanner up and down his body, scowling furiously as he did so. M’Benga joins him swiftly, crouching beside Bones as he brings out his own instruments.

As the two doctors work away, a couple of guards try to help Jim up, but he pushes them off forcefully and shakes his head.

He can’t leave. Not now. He needed to be here, when the doctors could tell him whether or not Spock was…

People are arguing around him, but he cannot understand what they’re saying- all the sounds were muffled, and the only clear thing in front of him was the sight of Spock’s unconscious face, the two doctors leaning over his prone body…

Then, the two guards are grabbing him, dragging him away and he’s screaming again, demanding that they let him go, hot pain shooting up his leg as he wiggles out of their grasp.

He has to be with him, he has to be there when he…

“We’ve got no choice, he’s gotta be sedated- he’s too agitated right now to come with us willingly…”

Before he can so much as protest, he feels the sharp pinprick in his neck, and almost instantly, he is no more.

The darkness consumes him.

Chapter Text

He knows he’s awake, but he cannot bring himself to open his eyes yet- his lids feel so heavy, his body lethargic and pleasantly warm underneath soft, fabric sheets. The urge to go back to sleep is so very tempting, but he tries to hold off for now.

He doesn’t want to dream again.

That dream… nightmare… he’d had… it had felt so real. He hadn’t experienced one so vivid in years now, and especially not one with such attention to detail… it’s like he could still smell the smoke, his own singed skin, the blood…

Shivering, he tries to force himself to cast it aside from his mind now… he was safe, Spock was safe, they were all on the Enterprise…

Taking a deep breath in, then out, he lets his eyes flutter open, fully expecting to be greeted with the sight of his own room, submerged in semi-darkness.

But it’s lighter than he expects. And… the room is painted white, his bedsheets light blue and made of much thinner material than what he has in his quarters. There’s some kind of armband attached to his arm, wires leading out towards a machine, which seemed to be taking his heart reading, and there’s a cabinet in the corner that seemed to be full of all kinds of pill bottles.

He realises, with a start, that he’s in medbay.

Why was he…?

All of a sudden, a sense of true horror overwhelms him, his stomach twisting and twisting as more and more memories come back to him. He breaks out into a cold sweat, unable to control his breathing, recalling the brief bouts of lucidity he’d had as he’d been dragged back to the ship and carried over to the medbay. How he’d called out for Spock, demanded news from the doctors who could only shake their heads sadly and say they hadn’t gotten word back from the medical team planet-side yet.

He must’ve kept getting louder and more insistent, because someone decides to put him under again, the cold needle pressing into his neck, and immediately, he had drifted into blessed darkness again.

There was nothing he could recall after that.

Jim experimentally tries to bend his left leg, and though there is a stiffness about it, he feels no pain. But then he lifts the bedsheets off his body and sees that his foot is slightly raised and covered by a splint that he hadn’t even been previously aware of.  How had he not felt it? He tries pinching hard at his skin, and once again, feels no pain.

He must be on some kind of heavy sedative… for his broken leg while it undergoes the rapid healing process…

He’s stumbling over the wreckage and jagged rock formations, hissing in pain as he drags the broken limb behind him, sleeve over his mouth as he does his best not to breathe in the fumes…

Jim is shaking now, both hands over his mouth as he shudders and retches, willing himself to wake up again, so that he’d be back in his own room, uninjured and ready to start a new day on the bridge, Spock bending over his console across from him, slanted eyebrows furrowed in concentration…

No, no, no, no, none of that was real, none of that happened. It couldn’t have, it wasn’t possible, there was no world where Spock wasn’t…

He swings his legs off the bed, and pushes himself up, shakily exiting the private room he was in and makes his way down the public area of the medbay, only starlight guiding his way along the long, clinical room full of empty beds and surgical tables. The splint makes it difficult to walk, but it doesn’t hurt him, and right now he can only concentrate on getting out of here, demanding answers from someone, anyone…

Jim pauses at the exit, hand over the control panel. He was sure he knew the override code for the medbay, he just had to… think about it. Why was it so hard to think right now? Was it the aftereffects of whatever drugs they had given him?

He keeps trying different familiar-sounding number combinations, and on the fifth attempt gets himself locked out. He starts to swear, loudly and openly, his voice echoing around the silent room.

Then suddenly, he hears a voice- a familiar, beautiful voice emerging from one of the other private side rooms:

“Captain? Is that you?”

Jim freezes, his heart beating wildly in his chest, not even daring himself to believe…

“Jim?”

It’s him, it’s him, it’s him!

Rushing as fast as his splint will allow, Jim barges into the room where the voice was emerging from, and there, sure enough, sitting up in bed, adorned in a black robe, bathed in starlight was…

“Spock…”, he breathes, taking an unsteady step forward, his eyes trained on him. He didn’t even want to blink, scared this was just a wonderful dream. “You’re… you’re…”

“Alive, Captain, yes. You should not be up…”

Whatever he’s about to say next is soon cut off as Jim envelops him into a tight hug, squeezing him like he was worried that if he let go for a moment, he would simply float off into the great expanse of space outside their window. Spock, unaccustomed to this level of physical contact between Jim and himself, pats him on the back wearily. He seemed unsure of what the appropriate response should be to this level of affection, but he allows it.

“Spock… Spock!”, Jim cries, somehow managing to tighten his grip even further. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

“It was not my intent…”, but Spock just sighs, and pats him on the back again. “I am fine, Jim. Now, please cease standing- the doctor said you were not to try and put weight on that leg until the morning…”

“Okay, okay, scootch over then!”, Jim grins, making his way to the other side of the large bed and flinging himself down beside him, the mattress shaking as he lands.

Spock sighs again- Jim was deliberately misunderstanding his meaning, but he obeys and shuffles over, allowing Jim to lie down next to him. He was turned on his side, grinning over at him dopily, looking at Spock like he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes upon.

If Spock was being truly honest with himself, there was a large part of him that quite liked it.

“Spock…”, Jim sighs, resting a hand on his clothed shoulder, causing Spock to raise an eyebrow. “… I can’t believe you’re here…”

“Yes Captain, I… apologise for causing you undue distress…”

“I thought you’d died!”

“Yes, Jim- you said.”

“You looked dead! You… were so still, I couldn’t feel a pulse…”, Jim shudders, moving in closer to him. Spock feels himself tense up, wrapping his robe more tightly around himself, his eye on Jim’s hand which is coming dangerously close to touching his own. “You weren’t… breathing…”

“Yes, once again, my apologies Captain. I’d simply passed out due to the pain and significant blood loss- Vulcans already have a much lower respiratory rate than humans, and it becomes even slower in an unconscious or meditative state. As for my pulse, well, you were likely unable to locate it due to your state of agitation at the time, and your own lack of familiarity with Vulcan anatomy…”

“The pole went right through you!”

“Through the middle of my chest, yes, and narrowly missed my lungs- it did do great deal of cartilage damage and fractured my ribs, but Dr McCoy has assured me there should be no long-term effects, so long as I confine myself to bed for the next few days. He mentioned many times that it was lucky I was not born with a more human anatomy, or where he struck might’ve gone straight through my heart.”

“Spock, I…”, Jim whispers, raising his hand up slowly, about to stroke Spock’s face. “Is this… this is real, right? Not just a dream, wishful thinking, or something…”

Spock suddenly jerks his head back, just as Jim’s fingertips are about to brush his cheek. Seeing the immediately dejected look on Jim’s face, he hastens to explain himself:

“Apologies, Captain, it is just… the combination of sedatives I am currently on makes it difficult for me to… shield effectively…”

“You mean telepathically? Through touch?”, Jim says, raising his eyebrows at him. Usually Spock had such good control, the topic of his mind-reading abilities rarely came up in conversation, unless it was somehow relevant to the mission.

“Correct.”

“Huh.”, Jim smiles languidly at him, squinting at his face. “Yes, your eyes do look a little strange, I didn’t notice before… you’re just as drugged up as I am! I swear, they wouldn’t stop stabbing me with needles…”

“Yes.”, Spock nods sagely. “The medical team informed me that you did not… come quietly. That you were most resistant to any form of instruction…”

“Can you blame me?! I thought you were dead at the time; I was freaking out! And they couldn’t tell me anything!”

“I’m not blaming you, Jim- I was simply telling you what I was informed. Now… you should go back to your own bed and rest. Starfleet will be wanting to interview you in the morning for an official report on what went down in the mines, and you need to be somewhat coherent to ensure we have an accurate timeline of events…”

“Okay, okay…”, Jim mutters, but he makes no effort to move from where he is lying, continuing to stroke the silky fabric covering Spock’s arm. “… god, I’m going to hate having to explain myself…”

“Explaining why you told your men to leave you down there, you mean?”, Spock says stiffly, his eyes flickering over to Jim in a way that made it clear he did not approve.

“No- about activating the detonator.”, Jim yawns, resting his face against Spock’s robed shoulder. Spock is so distracted by the intimate gesture, that it takes him a second to fully comprehend what he just said.

“You… set off the explosion?”, Spock stares down at him, his eyes widening slightly. “Was it by accident?”

“Nope.”, Jim sighs, rubbing his face into the silk in a way that made Spock squirm. “I mean, I didn’t want to, last resort… about five of those creatures were surrounding me, phaser was doing nothing, and I’m not as good under pressure as you are. At the time it felt like the choice was between dying at the hands of those things or blowing myself to high-heaven, and, well… you saw what I chose.”

“Indeed.”, Spock says, his tone apathetic, but Jim can see the muscles in his face tense slightly.

“You’re angry at me.”

“I am not… angry, Jim.”, Spock mutters, and the fact he had not immediately informed him that anger was an illogical emotion, told Jim that he was pretty angry. “I simply… wish you had not gone off on your own in the first place.”

“The creatures were going after my men and the hostages- I had to lead them away.”

“There were other ways- you could have had half the group handle the hostages, while the rest went with you…”

“And have them risk their lives for me, when there was a chance of escape for them? Not likely- we’ve lost enough of our own people these last few years…”

“Captain, your men knew what they signed up for- they understand the risks…”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let unnecessary deaths happen on my watch.”

“You are the captain, Jim… you are valuable to our mission, to our crew…”

“… my rank doesn’t make my life any more valuable than anyone else on this ship Spock. And besides, there’s a reason we have a second-in-command… and let’s be honest, some days I feel like you would do a much better job than me…”

“That is…”, Spock takes in a sharp breath, his eyes screwed closed while Jim watches in fascination- it wasn’t often he got to see Spock lose the tight control he had. The painkillers must really be doing a number on him. “… entirely incorrect Captain. I am perfectly proficient at many capabilities, but leadership is not one of them.”

“I don’t know about that…”, Jim murmurs, glancing up at him. “… you’re rational, dedicated, smart as a whip. All ideal qualities for a starship captain…”

“I do not want it, Jim!”, Spock suddenly snaps, his face flushing. Just as suddenly, he goes back to his blank-faced stare, the only evidence of his outburst the greenish tinge to his cheeks. “Forgive me, I am… not quite myself.”

“It’s fine…”, Jim mutters, placing a hand on his clothed arm. “… it’s nice to know… you care. I know you have a hard time showing it most of the time.”

“I thought my loyalty to you was quite evident, Captain.”, Spock states rigidly, on his back now as he stares up at the ceiling, like he can’t bring himself to look at him.

“No, I mean… as a friend.  I… care about you, Spock. So much. Maybe more than anyone else in the universe honestly, and… god, when I thought you were dead, I… I didn’t want to be alive anymore, that’s how bad it was.”

Jim is aware he’s slurring his words slightly, and that he should probably be embarrassed by the emotional torrent pouring out of him, but he just can’t bring himself to care. Spock was here, Spock was alive, he needed to say his piece now:

“I don’t think I’d be able to keep going without you... not the mission, Starfleet, life in general… none of it. And to know, that you had died trying… trying to save me… that I was responsible for your death…”

“Jim…”, Spock whispers, his eyes softening in a way that fills Jim with such a light, tingly feeling, he was surprised he wasn’t glowing. “It would not have been your fault. I made the choice…”

“No. Stop. L… listen to me…”, Jim gulps, tears falling freely down his face now, dampening the pillow beneath him. “I’m trying to tell you… I love you so much Spock. Please never leave me. My world… it doesn’t… it doesn’t make sense without you in it… not anymore…”

“Jim, I…”, Spock stares at him, eyes wide and unblinking. He seems paralysed with indecision about how he should proceed with this. “You are… that is to say, I…”

“Spock.”, Jim whispers, interrupting him, his eyes screwed shut. “Please could you just… let me touch you… briefly? Just to make sure… you’re real? I… I still can’t believe this is all real, that you’re still here with me… this all feels like some kind of dream I’m making up…”

Spock hesitates a moment as he looks over at Jim, all his raw emotions displayed to him, open and vulnerable, tears streaking down his cheeks.

After a moment longer, he finds he cannot deny him.

“Of course… Captain.”, Spock nods slowly, closing his own eyes. “Just… allow me a moment, to try and… shield my mind sufficiently …”

“Thank you, Spock.”, Jim murmurs, a smile spreading across his handsome features. “And please, take all the time you need…”

Spock lays back on the pillows, closing his eyes, hands clasped across his chest. For a while he just lies there, and Jim almost wants to check if he’s fallen asleep but manages to stop himself.

After a few more minutes, Spock opens his eyes and turns on his side, facing Jim, who is once again staring at him with such affection that it takes everything in Spock just then to keep his weakened shield up. He nods at Jim that he is okay to proceed, and Jim tentatively brings his hand forward, delicately stroking Spock’s cheek, enjoying how cool he feels under his hot fingertips. He then brushes the ridge of his brow, watching the way it twitches under his light touch and runs a finger down his long, straight nose. He puts a hand through his hair, silky smooth to the touch, and finally his eyes wander down to his mouth, staying there a while.

Spock is staring back at him, waves of panic flowing through him as he feels the weak barrier he’d put up begin to falter.

“Captain, I… I think you should…”

His words are cut off when suddenly he feels Jim’s soft lips press against his own, very lightly but undeniably there. As he draws back, he opens his hazel eyes, staring into Spock’s black ones, and he sees the Vulcan look at him in a way he’s never seen before.

Jim leans forward and kisses him again, hand cupping his face, ready at any moment to be told to stop, to cease, but Spock continues to allow it, his lips beginning to move against Jim’s own. It starts chaste enough at first, but soon Spock opens his mouth slightly, allowing Jim better access, and soon the kiss deepens, Jim swallowing Spock’s mouth with his own, sucking on his lower lip, his tongue meeting his in simple dance…

Spock continues to kiss him as his hands wander down to his hip, pulling him closer, and that simple movement sends waves of electricity through Jim’s body. He grabs the back of Spock’s head and pushes him forward, their mouths sliding over each other messily and desperately, teeth clinking together but neither man seems to care particularly.

Jim’s hands start pawing inside Spock’s robe, finding yet more fabric, but he can feel Spock’s body heat through his shirt, and he just desperately wants to feel…

… then suddenly Spock gives a pained yelp, clutching his chest as he leans away from him, face scrunched in agony. Jim stares at him, panicked:

“Shit, Spock! I’m so sorry, I forgot you were injured…”

“I am… perfectly fine, Captain…”, Spock groans, still holding himself. “It just… seems… there is a limit… to the painkiller’s effectiveness…”

“Are your bandages okay? Do I need to get someone…?”

“Negative, Captain.”, Spock takes a long breath, already looking calmer. “But perhaps this is a sign… we should both take rest for now. Continue our conversation tomorrow….”

“Yes, sure Spock…”, Jim smiles at him, hand running over his arm. “But seriously, is there anything you need?”

Spock starts shaking his head, then hesitates, his eyes wandering over to the sink in the corner.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Captain… could you refill my tumbler? I’m feeling a bit parched now...”

“Course Spock.”, Jim says, quickly jumping to attention, while also doing his best not to put his weight on his bad leg.

Just as he’s handing Spock a glass of cold water, the two of them hear the sound of the medbay door buzzing. Soon enough, Bones is walking through the door, scowling at the two of them like they were kids caught past their bedtime.

“You want to tell me what you’re doing on your feet Jim? That leg is not going to heal up correctly if you’re doing jumping-jacks all over the medbay…”

“He’s alive, Bones!”, Jim exclaims, a big, stupid grin on his face, pointing over at Spock. “Can you believe it?!”

Bones just groans and grabs him by the arm, shoving him towards the door.

“Jesus Jim, you’re still high as a kite… go to bed! And you…”, he points at Spock, scowling at him. “… I told you, sleep! You’ve still got a huge hole in your chest, and all that muscle repair is going to take a lot out of you- I don’t want to deal with your bad mood tomorrow just because you decided to play slumber parties with Kirk!”

The tip of Spock’s ears glow green at that, but thankfully the doctor does not seem to notice as he manhandles Jim out the door, who is still babbling away. Spock stares after the two men until the door swishes closed behind them, and only then does he allow himself to lay back and let exhaustion take him.

Chapter Text

Well done, Kirk. This is a fine mess you’ve got yourself into…

Jim looks glumly over at the console where Spock would usually be standing on the bridge; he was still in sickbay, healing from his injuries and, according to Bones, was mostly sleeping still.

He could believe that- Spock had yet to reply to his message, enquiring about his wellbeing, so that would explain it. Sure, it was possible he was deliberately ignoring him, but Jim did not think it likely- when Spock had an issue with someone, he was always quick to let them know, efficiently and without tact. He never saw any reason to spare a fellow crewman’s feelings if he found them lacking in any department or had engaged in some form of perceived impropriety.

And, oh boy, what he had done to Spock went well beyond some minor impropriety… yes, he had been woozy from all the drugs in his system, but that was no excuse for what he did. He knew Spock felt about being touched, and what had he done? Immediately jumped into bed with him, started grabbing away at his arms and shoulders, asking to touch his face…

Kissed him.

Except it had gone beyond simple kissing, hadn’t it? Not to mention all the saccharine nonsense he’d been spouting just before then, like he was some lovesick teenager… god, how was Spock supposed to ever respect him again after seeing him like that?! He liked to think he was not as reckless with professional boundaries as his reputation suggested, but then here he was, about to ruin one of his closest friendships. All because he had been thinking with what was between his legs, instead of his head.

In his fuzzy memories, he seemed to recall Spock reciprocating his actions with some enthusiasm, but that didn’t exactly mean anything- Spock had admitted he was also feeling the effects of some powerful painkillers, and might’ve been in a more docile, suggestible state at the time. Perhaps he let Jim did what he did out of some weird sense of obligation? That he thought it was a way of helping his human captain work through his strong emotions?

How would he feel now though? When he was sober and in full control of all his cognitive functions?

Jim liked to think he knew Spock fairly well after three years, but he honestly had no idea of how he was going to proceed with this- perhaps he would pretend it never happened, and Jim would endeavour to do the same. Or maybe he’d approach him privately about it, make it clear that his actions were not appreciated, then leave it there? But then again, he was a Vulcan, they were all about rules and regulations… and he, the captain of the Enterprise, had assaulted his first officer while he was in a vulnerable state. Maybe he’d come to the conclusion that the only logical route for this situation would be to make an official complaint to Starfleet, let them know what went down. Spock would probably find no joy in reporting his captain to the authorities, but that would be the most appropriate course of action for someone in his position. After all, Jim should answer for his actions, same as any crewmember who worked under him. Maybe he should make the report himself… but he felt weird doing that without the go-ahead from Spock.

Such worries had plagued him all night, and he was grateful that Bones had allowed him to work today, under the strict condition he stayed mostly sitting, and that he hand over control to Scotty or Sulu at the first signs of any trouble. He needed the distraction of work, and though reading through reports and taking comms from nearby planet dignitaries wasn’t the most stimulating of tasks, it occupied his mind enough.

Several of his team members had greeted him with wide smiles and slaps on the back when he’d entered the bridge that morning. Sulu seemed especially relieved to see him up and about, as he himself had been planet-side when the incident occurred:

“Nice to see you back with us so soon, Captain! I swear, when we saw you being dragged out of there, unconscious and white as a sheet… well, not going to lie, we all thought you were dead!”

“Yes, well… that’s what you get for being incredibly annoying Mr. Sulu.”, Jim shrugs at his lieutenant, giving him a half-smile. “Apparently I was being fairly uncooperative on the way back, so they had to give me a little something to make me sleep…”

“Yes, we… er… heard you were there when Mr. Spock got stabbed sir.”, Sulu nods at him sympathetically. “It must’ve been very upsetting for you, seeing that… we’re just glad you’re both back with us now!”

“Thanks, Sulu.”, Jim mutters, wishing he hadn’t brought up the mines again. He couldn’t so much as wash his hands right now without thinking of the green blood that had covered them.

Later, when he’s eating lunch in the mess hall with the rest of his bridge crew, Bones comes over to join them, his expression thunderous as he sets down his own tray with a clatter.

“I swear to god, if I have to fill out one more report to Starfleet… it’s their own bloody fault anyway, for not sending anyone out to investigate that outpost in over four years! Not to mention I’ve had to stick my neck out for that hobgoblin, not that he’ll appreciate it anyway… might even give me grief for it, he’s such a stickler for the rules…”

“What do you mean, Bones?”, Jim frowns over at him, spooning the last dregs of his soup into his mouth- while his lungs had now been cleared of any impurities, he still had a slightly scratchy throat, so he was mainly sticking to foods that were easy to swallow.

“In the latest report I filed, I made it very clear that Mr. Spock splitting off from the rest of the rescue team was a complete accident- floor opened up, he fell in, unstable structure and all that. Of course the truth was he went bolting off like a bat out of hell, completely against the official rules Starfleet has for managing rescue parties- you should always have at least one other crewmember with you and let the team know where you’re heading. I was pissed with him at the time, but, well, his reckless behaviour did get results, I’ll admit… it also resulted in him nearly getting killed though! That moron always likes to talk about how rational he is, but as soon as his chess buddy decides to blow himself up, he throws all caution to the wind...”

“It was… unnerving seeing the commander in such a state.”, Sulu nods in agreement, picking at his pasta salad. “He gave your men such a tongue-lashing when they came back up without you, Captain. And not long after, the ground started shaking and we heard the sounds of the blast and…then we saw the smoke coming up from down below. I remember looking over at Mr. Spock, and, well… I never thought I’d see the day a Vulcan looked heartbroken, but… there you go. Honestly, it was awful, I never want to see that look on his face again…”

Sulu gives Jim a pointed look, but he pretends not to see it, instead bringing his PADD out and checking his messages…

… and sure enough, there’s a new message from Commander Spock, informing him that he is now fully healed and discharged from medbay.

He also lets him know that he wishes to discuss something with him privately, as soon as he is able.

Jim sighs heavily and types a simple response, expressing delight with his recovery and providing a meeting time.

Well, at least by the end of tonight, he wouldn’t be waiting around in suspense anymore.

**********************************************************************************

Spock is punctual to the second, the door chime going off the second his clock read nineteen hundred. Clearly, a near-death experience had done little to change his propensity for dutiful promptness. Jim lets him in, and Spock wanders in, looking the picture of health, his skin back to his natural green-ish tinge, and his eyes focussed and clear. He has his hands behind his back as always, and as he stands by the doorway, he regards Jim in his usual way, like he was an especially interesting specimen he hoped to catalogue.

If he didn’t have fairly clear memories of the last few days, he could’ve almost sworn it was the same as any other evening, and Spock was here to play a few rounds of chess before going off to his quarters to mediate.

No such luck tonight though…

“Commander…”, Jim starts, wincing at how formal the title sounds. “… you look well. Dr McCoy told me he gave you the all-clear…”

“That is correct Captain- and I would very much like to return to my duties as science officer tomorrow. Only if you are agreeable to it of course…”

“Of course. Granted.”, Jim smiles at him, putting his own hands behind his back. “I’m sure your team will be thrilled to have you back!”

“Thank you, sir- and yes, I’ve had many well wishes from people in my department. It is most appreciated.” Spock pauses; his stare intense as he straightens his back further. “Of course, this is not what I wished to talk to you about…”

 Jim’s smile fades from his face.

“Yes, of course…”, he murmurs, pointing over at the sofa. “Would you… like to sit?”

“Negative sir.”, Spock says, not moving from where he’s stood near the door. “I prefer to stand.”

“Of course…”, Jim sighs, folding his arms across his chest. “I suppose this will not take long anyway…”

“That depends on you, sir.”

“Actually, I think it very much depends on you, Spock.”, Jim says, giving him the eye. “You are the injured party in this case…”

“As Dr McCoy has already informed you, I am fully healed…”

“No, Spock! I mean…”, Jim exhales in exasperation, folding his arms tighter. “… I mean, I was the one who took advantage of you the other night. It should be up to you how you want to proceed with this… I was thinking of reporting myself, but it felt wrong without talking to you first…”

Spock stares at him impassively a moment, tilting his head slightly.

“Captain…”, he says, raising an eyebrow. “… if you are referring to what happened between us in medbay, I can assure you that I have no intention of reporting you.”

“That is… kind of you Mr. Spock.”, Jim mutters, eyes looking towards the ground. “But whether you choose to go through official procedures or not, the fact of the matter is… my behaviour towards you the other night was unforgiveable, abhorrent even. I was under the influence, but that is no excuse for my actions. I am well aware of what your… boundaries are, and I more than overstepped them…”

“Captain, if I could speak please?”, Spock abruptly interrupts him, his face still unreadable.

Jim gives him a small nod, his expression grim as he looks at a spot just to the side of Spock’s head- it was difficult to look into those piercing eyes right now.

“You seem to be under the impression that you took advantage of me the other night, or that I regretted such a thing happened. If your touch offended me or made me feel uncomfortable, I would’ve told you so- I was perfectly capable of doing so.” Spock pauses, his face considering, before continuing: “If anything, it is quite the opposite in fact.”

Jim stares at him, more confused than ever.

“I… don’t understand Mr. Spock…”

Spock inclines his head again, his face still inscrutable.

“I am saying… that I welcomed your touch the other night.”

 For a while, the two men stand there still as statues, eyes trained on each other as the engine of the Enterprise thrums around them like a comforting purr. Jim studies the man in front of him, so stoic and matter of fact.

Surely, he was not suggesting…

“Captain?”, Spock raises his eyebrows at him. “Do you… have anything to say to that? Or shall we conclude our meeting here?”

Jim shakes his head.

“Spock, you... I don’t think you fully understand the implications of what I did the other night. Even amongst humans, showing that much open affection isn’t typical. We only do that kind of thing with people we’re…”

“Attracted to.”, Spock finishes for him, nodding his head. “You are attracted to me, are you not?”

And there it was, said so nonchalantly like he was simply reading the duty roster for the day, and not voicing one on Jim’s most closely held secrets.

“Spock, I…”, he gapes, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to sit down now. What was going on? “What do you… mean?”

“You are attracted to me. On a physical level. And emotionally, if I was reading you correctly the other night…”

“You… read me?”

“Yes.”, Spock says, looking suddenly guilty. “My apologies Captain, I did not mean to pry in your head, but… my shields were even weaker than I initially thought. I was able to block my own thoughts from you, but I could not stop myself from picking up on yours- not fully formed thoughts, but I felt your emotions, clearly, along with scraps of consciousness. As soon as you kissed me… it all came flooding through. I saw… what you felt, in that moment. When you were looking at me…”

Jim feels the heat grow in his cheeks, remembering that first light kiss against Spock’s lips, the look on his face…

“Spock, I…”, Jim screws his eyes shut, trying to choose his next words carefully. “I am… so sorry about that. I never… wanted to be unprofessional, or… or show you any unwelcome attentions. I never planned to act on any of those feelings, and if had been in my right mind, I assure you, I would’ve never…”

“Captain, I have already told you, it did not make me feel uncomfortable. My obvious reciprocation that night should have indicated that…”

“You were inebriated!”

“The drugs simply weakened my telepathic and emotional shields- I was completely cognisant otherwise. By your logic, I must have taken advantage of you, as your judgement was far more impaired, and I made no effort to remove you…”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”, Jim exclaims. “I wouldn’t get off you… I was like a damn octopus…”

“And I did not remove you from my person, Jim. What does that tell you?”

Jim stares at him, eyes wide, his breathing shallow.

“Wha… what are you saying, Spock?”, Jim splutters, knowing for a fact his face has gone very red.

Spock gives him an almost pitying look, before uttering in his usual monotone:

“I am saying I am attracted to you, Jim.”

Chapter Text

For a while, there is silence again, and this time Jim is the one to break it:

“Just… let me… sit down a minute…”, Jim says weakly, putting his hand out for balance as he makes his way over to the sofa. As he sits himself down shakily, he glances up at Spock, who looks unperturbed as ever, hands still clasped behind his back, standing to attention. Meanwhile here he was, his whole sense of reality shaken and turned on its head. However he thought tonight was going to go, he’d never imagined… this.

“Can I just ask…”, Jim says, snapping his head up to look at Spock.  “… for clarification… when you say you’re ‘attracted’ to me… what does that mean for a…”, he hesitates, looking Spock up and down, unsure if what he is about to ask is offensive or not. “… for someone like you? A Vulcan, I mean? I… had this idea, with pon farr and everything, you only experienced… sexual attraction every seven years years or so…”

“Pon farr is…”, Spock hesitates himself, his cheeks flushing a little, and Jim is suddenly grateful he’s not the only one feeling a little uncomfortable right now. “… it is the insatiable desire to mate. It is very different to sex for the sake of… pleasure.”

“Right… so wait? Vulcans have sex for… fun?”, Jim stares at him. “As in… not just for… breeding purposes?”

“Yes, that is correct- though I do object to the term ‘for fun’. It seems rather flippant.”

Jim puts his hands together, considering this new titbit of information carefully.

“But… isn’t sex with no real purpose quite… illogical?”

He puts his hand up when he notices Spock visibly bristle.

“Please don’t take offence… I’m just trying to understand. And your people are very… tight-lipped, let’s say, about this kind of thing usually, so I really don’t know…”

“It is true Vulcans do not talk about such personal matters with outsiders usually… but it is not for the sake of secrecy, such as pon farr. It is merely considered… impolite to discuss such matters in a public setting or with strangers. It does not mean we do not partake…”

“And have you…”, Jim swallows, his throat suddenly quite dry. “… partaken?”

“Yes.”, Spock nods. “It is actually actively encouraged that young Vulcans… experiment extensively before being undergoing the full bonding ritual … to ensure both partners are well educated on their own sexual preferences… as well as how best to pleasure one another. We can learn a lot by engaging intimately with a wide range of individuals- and of course, there are those who may end up choosing a non-Vulcan mate, such as my father.”

“Right, right…”, Jim mutters, drumming his fingers on the armrest of the sofa, doing his best to seem calm and collected, even though inwardly, he was screaming.

I am discussing… sex, with Spock. Spock, my Vulcan first officer, who you have been harbouring unprofessional feelings towards for a good while now, who has just admitted he feels ‘attracted’ to you as well…

This really wasn’t how I thought this evening was going to go.

“And when you say a wide range of individuals… have you? Engaged intimately, I mean?”, Jim asks, cringing slightly, though he is genuinely curious. He might never have the opportunity again to have Spock talk so openly about such personal details- the man could be such an enigma, always keeping his cards close to his chest, little pieces of his backstory coming up in short, fascinating bursts. He hadn’t even told him who his parents were until the Vulcan ambassador was staring him right in the face!

Spock stares at him a little while, and there’s a tightness to his jaw that had not been there previously- was he offended? Had he overstepped? It was so hard to know.

“I would not say… it is extensive. I had few opportunities growing up on Vulcan due to my… human heritage. Not that I’ve had no experience from other Vulcans by any means, but those who chose to engage intimately with me… kept it very much a secret, for reputational reasons. My father’s name held and still holds a lot of weight amongst the Vulcan people, which is how he was able to negotiate my betrothal with T’Pring’s parents…”, Spock’s voice trails off, his eyebrows furrowing and Jim now very much regretted asking his question.

“Spock…”, he whispers, leaning forward. “… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“Do not be sorry… it is natural you would be curious.”, Spock replies stiffly, his eyebrows still scrunched together. “All I will say is that I had more… opportunity for experimentation during my academy days… though I do confess I found few people during that time who I wished to engage in such activities with. The experiences I did have were pleasing enough, but nothing that took too much of my time away from my studies. And since joining the Enterprise… I have not partaken.”

“Since… joining the Enterprise?”, Jim asks, raising his eyebrow. “You mean… even before the mission? When you were working under Captain Pike?”

That would make his last sexual encounter… what? Ten years ago?

“Correct.”, Spock nods. “I found I had little need or want to; for Vulcans, while we have biological urges like most humanoid species, we are very adept at dealing with such symptoms- pon farr excepted, of course. Many choose to not engage in sexual relations outside of the mating ritual, but that, of course, is a personal choice. I do not think I made an active decision in such matters, just that I have had little interest, and have been dedicated to my work these last years.”

“… alright then.”, Jim says, not sure what the appropriate response really should be for this kind of confession. “Thank you… for explaining. So when you say you’re attracted to me, you mean…”

“… I am attracted to you on a physical level, Captain… though I confess to finding your mind extremely compelling as well. Perhaps even more so.”

Jim blushes again, and he hates to think how red he must look right now.

“I… um… thank you, Mr. Spock, I… also find you… but you already know…”, Jim coughs into his hand, flailing for words. “Can I just ask… why are you telling me this now? Because of what happened in sickbay?”

“Yes, Captain. If that had not happened, I would’ve continued to keep my attraction towards you a secret. Based on the existing data I had, such a confession from me would’ve been… unwelcome, let’s say. And may have jeopardised both our friendship, and our ability to work together on the Enterprise… two things I value greatly. I had no way of knowing you harboured any feelings for me that were not strictly platonic. I have seen you pursue many people you’ve considered attractive these last few years… and none of them shared any commonalities with me, physically or otherwise.”

“I mean, to be fair, Spock… is there anyone else like you?”, Jim smiles up at him fondly.

Spock’s eyebrows furrow together again- he looks troubled by the question.

“Are you referring to my hybrid nature, Captain?”

“What? No! I just meant… you’re you, Spock, you know? All of the things that make you, you…”, he gestures up and down his body. “… you’re one in a million really…”

“Very vague, Captain.”, Spock responds wearily. “But I believe I understand what you’re trying to say…”

The two men consider each other silently for a moment, Jim still sat on the sofa, hands clasped together as he leans forward. He studies Spock’s body language: back as straight as a rake as always, expression betraying nothing, hands behind as he stood to attention. In other words, he looked the same as he always did.

And yet… there was something about the eyes. Some kind of nervousness? Fear? It was subtle, but it was there. Jim sometimes struggled to notice that kind of thing, but he could see it very clearly tonight.

“As for why I have now elected to tell you, well… as I have said, it has been a long time since anyone has held my… attention in such a way- at least, not to the point of distraction on my part. I have spent my whole life, learning to hide my feelings, but I will confess… keeping this particular secret has challenged me, greatly, and it seems to only get more difficult with each passing day. My feelings for you are… complicated. You are my friend, but also my captain, and… before now, I did not want this unwanted attraction to come between us…”

When he utters the word ‘unwanted’, Jim feels a slight twinge in his chest, but he does his best to not let the disappointment show in his face- after all, Spock was being very vulnerable with him right now, and he did not owe him anything.

“… but now, knowing you also feel similar to me, well… I felt you deserved to know my feelings on the matter as well. As I did invade your mind without your permission…”

“You did no such thing.”, Jim says firmly.

“Regardless, you would not have told me of your own free will otherwise… and clearly you have been harbouring a great deal of guilt over what occurred the other night. If my own confession can take such a burden off your mind, I would be most pleased.”

“Spock, I…”, Jim trails off, shaking his head in bemusement. “… I don’t know what to say…”

“You do not have to say anything, Captain. Although… I do have some questions for you relating to this subject. If you are tired, I am happy to come back tomorrow.”

“No… uh… fire away, Mr. Spock…”, Jim nods, gazing over at him intently, wondering where on earth this was going.

“Well, sir… I was wondering, in light of my confession, if you would still feel comfortable with me being your first officer?”

“What?”, Jim stares at him, genuinely shocked. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It is my understanding that many humans struggle to maintain a professional relationship with their colleagues when there is perceived interest from one or both parties…”

“Spock.”, Jim interrupts. “Let me assure you, my foremost duty is to the Enterprise and its crew. Maybe I’m not a Vulcan, but I am still more than capable of separating my own personal feelings from the job at hand…”

“Of course Captain- I did not mean to call into question your dedication to the mission. I simply wanted to check… that continuing to work so closely in my presence… after all, I would not want you to make you feel uncomfortable…”

“Spock, you could never make me feel uncomfortable.”, Jim sighs. “I feel more comfortable around you than most people- my attraction to you doesn’t change that. You are… my friend, first and foremost, as well as one of the best first officers I could ever ask for.”

“Thank you, Captain.”, Spock nods at him, formal as ever, but Jim could swear he could see the tips of his ears go green.

He loved it when they did that.

Especially when he was the one that caused it.

“And… how about you? Would my attractions interfere with your work ethic?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Well, then…”, Jim smiles widely. “It looks like you’re stuck here then, mister!”

Spock stares at him, looking slightly baffled.

“I am here of my own free will, Captain, I assure you…”

“No, no, Spock, I just mean… eh, forget it. Point is, I want you here. End of story. So… please don’t worry.”

“Understood, sir.”, Spock says stiffly. “But just know, if your feelings ever change on that matter… to please address such issues with me directly.”

“Not going to happen. But… understood, Spock.” Jim pauses, looking him up and down. “Did you… have any other questions, or…?”

“I do. But… just one more.”

“Well then…”, Jim puts his hands out. “… let’s hear it.”

Spock’s back stiffens, and Jim can swear he can see that nervousness, that fear in his eyes again. It was so unlike him, and Jim was resisting the urge to cross the room and envelop his friend in a hug; after all, knowing Spock, that would probably only make him more uncomfortable.

“Captain, I…”, Spock turns his eyes away from him, staring past the sofa to the wall behind Jim’s head. “… as I said before, I was previously under the impression that my attractions towards you was one-sided. Now that I’ve been made aware that it is reciprocated, well… would you ever be interested in…”, his voice trails off, still unable to look at him directly.

“Interested in what, Spock?”, Jim frowns.

Spock takes a long, deep breath, and suddenly the words are coming out fast, faster than Jim has ever heard him speak before:

“Would you ever be interested in exploring a more physical aspect of our relationship sometime?”

For a while Jim is frozen, staring at Spock like he’d grown an extra head suddenly. Mind you, that would’ve been far less crazy than what had just come out of Spock’s mouth.

“W… What?”, he stutters, failing to hide his complete bafflement.

“I said…”

“No, I heard what you said, Spock. I just… wasn’t expecting that. When you say ‘physical’, you do mean…”

“Sexual relations.”, he nods rigidly, hands still clasped behind his back. There’s a panicked look in his eyes, and he continues to talk fast: “To be clear, I completely understand if you are against the very idea, Captain. It is just that… I greatly enjoyed the feeling of your touch, and it appears you did too… and if you ever wanted to engage in something… similar, in the future I thought it would be best to let you know I would be quite… amiable, to the idea…”

Jim just continues to stare, wishing in that moment he had a shot glass of Bones’s strongest bourbon. He just couldn’t believe what was happening right now… was he having that dream again? Except his dreams didn’t usually have this much build-up…

He collapses back against the sofa, putting a hand over his forehead as he exhales deeply:

“Dear god, this is… insane…”

Jim doesn’t miss the way Spock’s eyes immediately dull, his shoulders collapsing slightly as he turns his body away from him:

“Yes, you are… correct, sir. Forgive me, I should never have asked. I will just take my leave now…”

“Spock, wait, no! That’s not what I meant!”, Jim exclaims, jumping up from the sofa just as Spock is about to put his hand on the door’s release button. “I just mean… Spock, it wasn’t that long ago you told me you felt shame at the idea of being friends with me! And now you’re asking for… that, and it’s just… hard to get my head around.”

Spock turns to look at him, his expression somewhat sombre:

“I am sorry for what I said about our friendship, Jim… in my defence, I was not in my right mind at the time…”

“There’s no need to apologise, Spock! I’m just trying to explain why… this is such a shock for me. I never imagined that you’d… ever ask for something like this… I’ve spent the last few years reminding myself not to hug you, or hold your hand, because I thought it’d make you feel uncomfortable. So you must understand, I never imagined that you would… want me, in that way.”

Spock nods slowly.

“But you know now, Captain.”

Jim sighs, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Yes, I do now… and I…”, Jim glances over at Spock who is looking just a smidge more relaxed now. He gulps as he finishes his sentence: “… I would be lying if I said I’d never had some fantasies myself… about the very thing you’re proposing.”  

At that, Jim can practically see Spock’s eyes light up, and he can feel his own heart clench as he continues, knowing he has to extinguish that very light:

“But it cannot happen… I am technically senior to you in rank, and cannot risk jeopardising either of our careers, or reputations…”

“Actually, Captain…”, Spock interrupts him, taking a small step forward. “… there is actually no official rule against the first officer and their captain engaging in romantic or sexual relations with one other. As the first officer is automatically designated captain duties whenever the official captain is unavailable or out of action, Starfleet regulations actually consider us equal in rank- so although Starfleet may not overly approve, officially speaking, they cannot hold such a thing against us in any professional capacity.”

Jim stares at him.

“You’ve… thought about this.”

“Yes, Captain. Now tell me, Jim…”, Spock tilts his head at him, taking another step forward. “… was that the only reason, or is there more?”

“I…”, Jim hesitates, forgetting his words as he looks into Spock’s intense, dark stare, as deep and penetrating as the view of the cosmos just outside their window. “… I don’t want this to ruin our friendship… if it ends badly, I mean. These kinds of things often do for me. And… can you really still respect me as your captain, if we’re, well… sleeping together?”

As he utters those words, a whole menagerie of erotic images starts playing in his mind, which he does his best to ignore.

“Jim, who you choose to sleep with, be it me or others, has no bearings on your leadership abilities. And… you are one of my closest friends, a bond I value greatly- though I will say it took me a long time to admit that very fact, I will admit. I find it unlikely that acting on a shared attraction could ever threaten such a bond, but if you ever felt that was the case, well… you would just have to say the word, and I would happily take a step back, no questions asked. We would simply… go on as we did before.”

Jim feels a painful twinge of pain in his chest- he made it sound so easy. It was clear that, for Spock, eventually ending such an arrangement would be as simple as terminating a contract between them. Whereas for Jim, well… he didn’t know if he would be able to take it. Yes, he had experienced heartbreak before, but at least in those cases, he’d been able to walk away from the situation, or even run away as the case may be. He imagined having to walk into the bridge every morning, looking over at Spock’s back, with the knowledge that he had only been desired, but not truly wanted by the man he loved…

He must’ve been making a pained expression, because the troubled look has returned to Spock’s eyes.

“Please understand, Jim… if you truly do not want this, I will take no offence, and you do not need to justify your reasoning. Say ‘no’, and I will leave- and I will never bring this up again, I promise.”

Tell him you don’t want this Kirk, tell him now Kirk. He’ll be hurt for now, but he’ll get over it, you’re just a temporary fixation for him, an infatuation, a passing fancy…

It has been so long since he’s had someone, anyone… of course he’d come to you. Someone always so open and willing…

He’s already told you his attraction towards you is ‘unwanted’- perhaps this was simply his way of getting it out of his system…

“Spock, I…”, Jim looks up into Spock’s dark eyes, his face only an inch away from his now. “You don’t understand, I do want this…”

You’re an idiot, Kirk.

“… but I…”

His throat closes up, unable to finish his sentence, as Spock continues to stare daggers at him, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Are you worried about my telepathy? Then please, let me assure you, I am now in full control of my facilities, and I would never invade your privacy without explicit permission…”

“No, it’s not that. Although… good to know.”

“Then… are you reluctant because… I am a man?”, Spock asks, his mouth tightening a little. “I will admit, I did previously assume you identified as primarily heterosexual, since ninety-eight percent of your conquests I’ve observed these last few years have been female identifying, with the remaining two percent consisting of non-binary individuals or androids…”

“It’s not that Spock. I’ve been with plenty of men before… the opportunity just hasn’t presented itself that often- not since the start of the mission, anyway.”

“ ‘That often?’”, Spock echoes, raising his eyebrows. “So… does that mean you have slept with some male-identifying individuals these last few years?”

“Sure.”, he shrugs. “What happens on shore leave, stays on shore leave, after all. People know enough about my business as it is.”

“I… see.”, Spock says slowly, a strange look on his face that Jim struggles to accurately identify. Surely, he wasn’t judging him? After all, he was the one currently propositioning his boss.

“How about you?”, Jim asks, genuinely curious. “Have you ever been with a man?”

“Two.”, Spock confirms. “One Vulcan male during my adolescence… and one of my lab partners during my academy days. Both were just… one-time affairs.”

“And do you often notice men… in that way?”

“With you excepted, you mean? I notice other men about as much as I notice women… that is to say not often and with only mild curiosity. The fact such a large portion of my interest has been taken up by you lately is… very much an aberration.”

“Right…”, Jim mutters, hating the fact he could feel himself blushing. It hadn’t even been a compliment really! If anything it just further confirmed that Spock viewed this infatuation as a massive burden. “Anyway to answer your question, no… I’m pretty secure in my sexuality. Even if I don’t advertise it that often…”

“If that is not the reason you are expressing reluctance then… is it because you still wish to explore relations with others?”, Spock blinks at him, that strange look on his face still. “Because I assure you, if that is what you wish… I will not stop you. I know you are an affectionate, open person, and that you have… many options. It is understandable if you do not wish to be tied to one person…”

Jim feels his face glow red with shame, and he cannot help but clench his jaw, his gaze turning to the ground as he finds himself unable to look at Spock. Sure, his description of him had not been completely inaccurate, but the fact he just assumed Jim would be sleeping around during their theoretical arrangement… it hurt a little. He knew that it was silly, but it was the truth. It was just further confirmation that for Spock, this was just a roll in the haystack for him, and he very much assumed Jim was in the same boat, if not more so. After all, he knew how he came across, he liked sex, there was nothing wrong with that. And he usually didn’t care what most people thought of him…

… but he very much did care about Spock’s opinion, as pathetic as that was.

“Jim? You look… upset.”, Spock says, his voice laced with concern. “Have I… offended you, somehow?”

“No, Spock…”, Jim sighs, even though it is technically a lie. “It’s just… that is not what I want. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but… I prefer to only see one person at a time. It’s just… easier, simple, less drama.”

“Yes.”, Spock starts nodding profusely. “I am…  relieved to hear you say that actually. I would much prefer it that way.”

Jim smirks at him.

“Because you’d get jealous, you mean?”

“Yes.”, is Spock’s short answer, and Jim can’t help but feel a pang of pleasure well up inside of him.

God, was he easily pleased… if anyone actually said they loved him, he’d probably explode into a million pieces.

“So… if you don’t actually want an open… situationship…”, Jim says slowly, grappling for the right word. “… why offer it? If it would just make you miserable?”

Spock is silent a moment, his face contemplative.

“I suppose…”, he finally answers, his pale face so beautiful and delicate-looking, even in the subdued lighting. “… because I’ve wanted this… for a while. And… there are many things I would sacrifice my own comfort for, if… you gave me the chance to be with you. Even just for one night.”

Jim feels his heart start to soar at that, and as he looks into Spock’s face, remembering how just a few days ago, he thought he may never see those eyes open again, never hear that low, clear voice calling out to him from across the bridge, would never get the chance to hold his hand, tell him all the things he’d always wanted to let him know but was too afraid to…

And here he was now, offering him something he thought he would only ever experience in his dreams. An offer he knew he should refuse, but right now, in this very moment, the reasons why momentarily escaped him.

He creeps forward, slowly, until he’s practically nose-to-nose with the man.

He places a hand on Spock’s arm, feeling the soft fabric…

He said just for one night…

Jim raises his head and looks up at Spock, sees the hope in his eyes, the way his lips slightly twitch at the corners…

Once he’s had his fill of you, he’ll act like it never happened. And you’ll be heartbroken.

He brings his head slowly forward, and Spock does the same, until they’re practically exchanging air…

Don’t do it, Kirk.

… and their lips come together, so soft and warm, Spock taking the lead this time as he deepens the kiss, sliding his arms around Jim’s waist, who reciprocates happily.

Moron.

Ignoring the incessant alarm bells ringing in his head, Jim allows himself to enjoy the feeling of Spock’s mouth moving against his own, taking in all the sensations he couldn’t fully appreciate before, due to the painkillers numbing his senses and feeling generally emotionally wrecked. He’d often dreamed about Spock kissing him like this, within the private quarters of his room, but there were so many little details he wouldn’t have imagined on his own: the coolness of Spock’s nose as it rubbed against his, the slight stubble he felt that was otherwise invisible to the naked eye, the smell of a cologne he didn’t recognise… had he worn it especially for this?

That simple thought filled him with such pleasure, he finds himself pulling Spock forward by the shirt, desperate to get him even closer to him than he already is…

… then he pauses, remembering what happened in medbay.

“Jim?”, Spock whispers, clearly worried as he feels his body go rigid. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… great.”, Jim exhales, feeling slightly breathless and light-headed. “It’s just… I know you said you got all the all-clear from the docs, but are you sure you’re up to this? I mean, I accidentally hurt you the other night…”

“Dr. M’Benga has done a more than satisfactory job at healing my wounds.” He raises an eyebrow at Jim, a dangerous glimmer in his eye. “I can… show you, if you would like?”

Jim’s eyes wander down to his science blues, and he finds himself nodding eagerly. Immediately, Spock takes a small step back from him and swiftly removes the garment, letting it drop silently to the floor beneath them. Jim’s eyes wander across his bare skin- it wasn’t like he’d never seen him shirtless before, but this was the first time he’d really been invited to look- and look he did. The slender yet toned torso, the muscular arms, the deceptively wide shoulders, the way his entire chest was covered with gorgeous black body hair, quite the stark contrast to his smooth face.

Apart from the centre of his chest- there was a small, round patch of hairless skin, and when Jim got a closer look, he saw that there was some silvery scarring contained within. He reaches forward slowly, looking up at Spock who nods at him to continue. Brushing over the circle carefully with the tip of his fingertips, he observes Spock for a reaction, but he shows no signs of discomfort.

“The regrowth of muscular tissue was an arduous process, but there were no significant complications during the procedure- I think you will agree M’Benga has done an exemplary job?”

“Yes…”, Jim chuckles, continuing to run his finger around the circle. “Bones should watch out… M’Benga might get promoted to CMO next review…”

“I do not think that is necessary…”

“It’s a joke, Spock.”, Jim smiles warmly.

His attention wanders over to Spock’s shoulder, the one the creature had slashed at- there was no visible scarring, but he could still remember the way claws had cut straight through the flesh, green blood spewing out from the open wound…

He shivers and moves his hand from his chest to his shoulder, and begins rubbing at it, appreciating the feeling of the cool flesh underneath his hot palms. Just smooth, pale flesh, the faintest hint of green veins lying underneath the surface…

“You shouldn’t have gone in there…”, he whispers, his fingers grasping at his shoulder, leaving verdant marks.

Spock does not need to ask what he means.

“I do not regret it, Captain… any longer down there, you would’ve suffocated.”

“I know, but… is it bad that I would prefer that to knowing you died trying to save me? I don’t know if I’d be able to live with myself, honestly…”

“Captain, I…”

“Spock… Jim, please. If we’re going to be doing this…”

“Of course- Jim. I just want to say… there was a moment down there, looking around at all the blast damage, that I knew the probability of finding you alive was near impossible. I am… very glad you managed to overcome those odds, but I do ask… that you do your best not to put yourself at unnecessary risk in future.”

“Spock, we work in a risky field…”

“Just promise me you will try. Please.”

Jim looks up into his eyes, his usually stoic face almost pleading, and almost without thinking he find himself surging forward, capturing his lips in a kiss once again:

“I don’t make that promise…”, he whispers against his lips, blowing hot air against cool skin. “… unless you do.”

Spock gives a jerky nod, before lowering his head and resting his forehead against Jim’s, stroking the side of his face:

“I am… more than amiable to that.”, he whispers back hoarsely, the feeling of his hand sending shivers down Jim’s spine.

“Good…”, he smiles, his hands travel down to Spock's arms, letting himself feel up the strong muscle, enjoying the way they tensed up as he pressed. “… we’ll both try and hold each other to that then. Besides, I don’t think Bones is going to let me run around planet-side for a little while…”

“For once, me and the doctor can agree on something.”

Chuckling, Jim kisses him again, a thrill going through him as he realises that he’s being allowed to do this, that this is real, that he gets to run his hands over his bare chest, brush his fingers through the coarse body hair…

… and that’s when he realises, he still has his own shirt on.

“Hey, should I… take mine off as well?”, Jim asks bashfully, already sticking his hands underneath the hem.

“That would be…”, Spock inhales sharply though his nose. “… preferable, I think.”

And that is all the encouragement he needs- he rips the garment over his head, throwing it into the corner of the room, far less elegantly than Spock had done. When he turns back to look at Spock, he, once again, sees a look on his face he’s never seen before.

Hunger. Want. Lust.

It was in that moment that he truly appreciated how good Vulcans were at hiding their true feelings. After all, how many times before now had he seen him shirtless? Countless. And he’d never seen him look at him that way once.

Jim gives him a crooked smile as Spock’s eyes roam appreciatively up and down his body, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so attractive in all his life. Finally, Spock reaches forward and starts running his fingers along his stomach, and Jim can’t repress the little gasp he makes as he feels the coldness against his hot skin. Spock’s eyes stay on his face as he works his way upwards, and he starts feeling up his pecs, clearly enjoying the way Jim’s breathing grew more and more unsteady under his touch.

“Are you… truly okay with this, Jim?”, Spock whispers against his cheek, one hand still resting against his pec as the other reaches around to stroke his back, drawing small circles on his shoulder blades.

Jim, still shaking slightly, nods mutely, but quickly realises that Spock is awaiting verbal confirmation.

“A… Absolutely, Spock…”, Jim stutters, cringing at his own lack of control. “I am… all yours, as they say…”

Or at least I wish I was…

Spock gives him a look that was downright feral, and suddenly he is all over him, hands running over inch of bare skin he can find, attacking his mouth like he was a starving man. Jim gasps at the contact, trying to match Spock’s pace, but it was proving difficult- it had been a long time since he’d been with someone so much stronger than him, and he found he was rather liked the feeling of being overpowered, especially with the knowledge that this was Spock holding back- he’d sparred with him enough in the past to know what the full extent of his power was. He bites down on Spock’s bottom lip, and he responds by lowering his hands until he is gripping Jim’s firm rear through his trousers. Jim gives a very undignified yelp as he squeezes back there and gets revenge when he turns his mouth’s attention to the crook of Spock’s neck, biting down hard. He knew that the sound Spock made when he did that would be appearing in his fantasies for months after, and a sense of pride welled up in his chest, with the knowledge that he was the one that caused such a reaction.

Jim starts pushing him towards the bed, kicking his shoes off his feet as he went. Spock only removes his when he’s sitting down on the edge of the bed, taking them off neatly but efficiently, before immediately getting back to business, pulling Jim on top of him. The two of them writhe together for a good while, Jim enjoying the feeling of their stomachs and chest rubbing against one other, Spock’s cool skin a welcome relief against his own molten flesh.  

His hands wander down to Spock’s belt buckle, but then he hesitates- Spock had said it had been a long time since he’d done this, hadn’t he? Maybe even longer since he’d been with a man. He should probably take this slowly, ease Spock into it, guide him through it…

He lets out a soft ‘oof!’ when Spock suddenly uses his superior strength to flip them over, so that he was now lying on top of Jim, pressing light kisses down his body as he squirmed and moaned, one hand holding him down while the other pulls down his zipper...

Chapter Text

One hour later, Jim is laid back against the mattress, a panting, sweating, boneless mess, his mind whirring away as he tries to comprehend what the hell just happened. Spock lays down beside him, looking none the worse for wear as he rests his head against Jim’s chest, stroking the small light hairs that grew there, looking somewhat fascinated by them. The only indication that Spock had just engaged in any strenuous activity at all was the fact his neat hair was now slightly dishevelled and also the green to yellow-ish marks left on him by Jim, the largest and most colourful of which being the bite mark on his neck. A distant part of Jim’s mind noted that they should probably get their hands on a dermal regenerator before first shift started, but most of his thoughts were occupied with the man lying across him right now, and all the ways he had essentially ruined him this last hour.

Jim considered himself fairly sexually experienced - once he had left Starfleet academy and gotten over his first big heartbreak, he had fully embraced the freedom that came with travelling across the galaxy, never having to stay in any one place for too long or put down roots. He had met and connected with numerous fascinating and beautiful individuals over the years, as diverse and varied as they were exciting and exotic. And while there certainly had been a few regrettable experiences over the years, the vast majority had been excellent to mind-blowing.

Or at least he had considered them to be.

Now? He wasn’t totally certain he’d ever really had sex before tonight.

Spock had ruined him.

Even in his fantasies about this kind of thing, he’d always imagined he’d be the one taking initiative, leading Spock through the process step by step until he slowly got more comfortable, eventually letting go of his inhibitions and surrendering into Jim’s embrace. After all, that idea was kind of sexy in and of itself, and he had kind of assumed Spock was a virgin before tonight.

But instead, Jim had been complete putty in his hands.

Spock had taken his time at first, excruciating so even, licking, kissing and sucking on every inch of his body, mapping it out like a canvas, every gentle caress with his long fingers setting his sensitive skin alight. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him with such tenderness and care, and Jim was surprised by how undone he had become by such simple touching alone, Spock’s mouth and hands applying perfect pressure up and down his body. He had tried at first to reciprocate his careful fondling, but he was soon too overwhelmed by all the sensations to do anything but lie there and take it, failing to hold back the embarrassing noises emitting from his mouth as he gripped the bedsheets underneath him nearly to the point of ripping. He had nearly come apart completely when Spock finally started working between his legs, overwhelming waves of pleasure threatening to kill him then and there.

The heavy petting portion had gone on so long, Jim had thought that maybe this was as far as they going to get tonight. Not that he was complaining, mind you- Spock’s attentions were delectable enough as is. But then Spock had stared up at him, that dangerous glint in his eye again, looking down at his trembling, sweaty body like it was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever seen and… that was when he really let him have it. Jim could’ve sworn that he almost passed out from pure pleasure alone at one point, his vision whitening out before quickly coming back down to earth, heaving and panting as he was grasped tightly against Spock’s chest, his vision still clouded by blotchy spots.

Of course, there had been times in the past where he’d taken the less active role in a partnership, but it had never really come that naturally to him- he was often impatient, wanting to set the pace of the activity, never feeling quite comfortable being at the mercy of someone else’s will. But with Spock, he had felt… so comfortable, safe even. He had already trusted him completely, body and soul, and apparently that also extended to the bedroom.

It certainly helped that he seemed to know exactly which of his buttons to press, so to speak. And this coming from the man who said he didn’t have extensive experience, who hadn’t done the dirty in… how long did he say?

“Hey, uh… Spock?”

“Yes, Captain?”, Spock murmurs against his chest, his voice significantly more gravelly than usual.

“Call me Jim, please, Spock. Anyway I was wondering… how long exactly has it been for you since the last time? When you last had sex, I mean?”

Spock glances sharply up at him, a genuinely worried look on his face:

“Four minutes and twenty-six seconds ago, Jim…”

“No, I meant…”, Jim sighs deeply, looking up at the ceiling for strength. He could never predict how literal he was going to take something, even after three years. “… the time before that?”

“Eleven years, one month, five days and two hours… do you require it to the nearest minute?”

“Uh… no. That’s fine, Spock…”, Jim mumbles, wiping at his damp forehead. “And… how many people have you slept with, total?”

“Nine.”

“And only two men?”

“That is correct.”

“Right…”, he trails off, absentmindedly running a hand through Spock’s hair, messing it up even further. He was kind of surprised he was letting him, really. “And before you came here tonight, had you done any research into… human sexuality? Or just sexual acts in general?”

“No?”, Spock replies, the worried look back on his face again. “Should I have?”

“No! No…”, Jim quickly says panickily. “Not at all! I’m just asking because… well, for a man who hasn’t had a lot of… practice in a while you’re… uh…”, Jim feels himself flush slightly, the pinkness running all the way down to his chest. “… you’re quite proficient at it.”

Spock’s eyes brighten at that, the tips of his mouth going up ever so slightly, and Jim doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything quite so beautiful. Or as smug.

“Thank you, Captain…”

“Jim.”

“Apologies, Jim. I’m afraid formalities come quite naturally to me…”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“… but as for my proficiency in bed, as you kindly brought up…”

“Okay, don’t get cocky now…”

“Vulcans do not get cocky.”

“Sure they don’t.”

“… as I was saying… while I do appreciate your compliment, I confess I can only take partial credit- most of that would go to your own continuous feedback, which I applied accordingly.”

“What?”

Spock just nods; the half-smile still splayed across his lips.

“You are… very easy to read, Jim. Of course, most humans are quite expressive with their emotions, but you especially. As soon as you experienced any kind of pleasure during the proceedings, it was extremely evident in your face, and I simply continued with any action that had induced such a response.”  He is silent a moment, his face considering. “It also helps that you are extremely vocal- I believe you were even shouting very specific instructions at one point. Very helpful.”

“Oh, god…”, Jim groans, covering his red face with one of his arms, which only seems to encourage Spock to keep talking.

 “We are quite lucky these rooms are sound-proofed.”, Spock notes, glancing around at their surroundings. “Otherwise someone might have put an alert out about an attempt on your life…”

“Okay, quite the teasing Spock.”, Jim growls, playfully flicking his ear.

“Vulcans do not tease- I am merely stating facts.”

“Yeah, well, you tell me Vulcans don’t do a lot of things, despite evidence to the contrary- I’m starting to not believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”

“That sounds rather detrimental to our working relationship Jim.”

Jim chuckles at that, wrapping his arm tighter around his shoulder, snuggling against him.

“Besides…”, he murmurs against his head, enjoying the way his hair tickled his nose. “I don’t exactly remember you being silent the whole time either, mister. Admit it… you were losing a bit of your own control towards the end there.”

“Yes… I suppose…”, Spock mumbles, an oddly serious tone to his voice, all previous lightness gone. Jim glances down at him, a little worried he’s said something wrong.

“Hey… Spock? You okay?”

“I more than adequate, Jim. I am simply… thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Spock scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion, and Jim just sighs.

“It’s… an expression. It means… what are you thinking about?”

“You could have just said that.”

“Yes, well, I’ll remember that. But seriously, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing of consequence.”

“Spock…”

He’s silent for a minute, remaining very still in Jim’s arms as he continues to run his hands through his hair. Eventually, he responds, his tone controlled but laced with a certain tension:

“I was just thinking about… how often I find myself emotionally compromised… when I am in your company. I do not think I have ever been quite so… challenged by anyone, in that respect, outside of my own family.”

“Right…”, Jim says slowly, doing his best to understand.  “And has that been… troublesome for you? Dealing with that?”

“Perhaps a little…”, Spock admits, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I have spent much of my life, training myself to suppress my emotions. And I had thought myself fairly adequate at doing so… but I realise now, I was simply never sufficiently challenged. My friendship with you… has truly tested my control and I know that, logically, I should feel somewhat ashamed by that fact. And yet, when I am with you…”, Spock turns to him, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “… I find myself not caring. I am simply… content. It is… quite peaceful.”

“Spock, I…”, Jim smiles at him, squeezing him back. “I am… so happy to hear you say that. I know you don’t like to talk about your life before the mission that much, but I do know it hasn’t always been easy for you… feeling accepted, I mean. And knowing that you feel secure in my company… it’s a privilege, truly.”

“Thank you, Jim.”, Spock gazes at him, the smallest of smiles on his own face, his dark eyes sparkling. “And can I just say… I am very glad we did this. Sharing pleasure with you was… extremely satisfactory. And it would greatly please me if you would… like to repeat such activities again sometime. Only if you are amiable of course…”

“I more than amiable to that idea, Mr. Spock.”, Jim grins, sighing as he rests his head against his shoulder, not missing the way the man’s eyes light up as he answers. “Of course, next time, perhaps you should let me take charge a little… it can be your turn to just lay back and relax…”

Spock raises an eyebrow at him.

“My apologies, Jim- I was under the impression you were enjoying such attentions…”

“Oh, no, Spock, don’t get me wrong, I was!”, Jim quickly tries to reassure him. “I just… feel kind of bad, I guess, letting you do all the work back there. Next time, I just want to… give back, I suppose. Make you feel good.”

“It did not feel like ‘work’, Jim. I was simply… enjoying myself. Getting to see you in such a state of arousal was… extremely pleasurable for me, more pleasurable than any other experience I’ve had in the past.”

“Spock…”, Jim whispers as he feels himself come undone once again by such simple words, happiness welling up inside of him, threatening to burst out his chest in a violent manner.

“I will, of course, accept your request to… take charge next time, so to speak. I confess, it has been a while since I have relinquished control to someone in such a way… but if it is with you, I look forward to it. Exploring this dynamic between us will be… most fascinating.”

“The most fascinating.”, Jim nods in agreement, beaming so widely, he felt the sides of his face start to ache, letting himself gaze into Spock’s endless black pools, his pupils slightly dilated as he returns his gaze, the small smile splayed on his lips. He’d never seen him look this relaxed and… content, as he had said. And he had said it was Jim who made him feel this way…

Surely that must mean something?

The way he was looking at him, all the affection on full display, the feeling of his body still pressed up against his as he runs his thumb delicately across his cheek, his own words just now…

‘Emotionally compromised’, he had said. Perhaps, that was a Vulcan way of saying…

Jim is quickly brought out of his wonderings when he suddenly realises Spock is shuddering against him, borrowing himself further into the bedsheets as he continues to shiver quite violently.

“Spock, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, the lower part of his face still underneath the sheets as he continues to shiver.

“It is nothing of note, Captain…”

“Jim, please.”

“Jim. I am just… struggling to thermoregulate my internal body temperature right now- I have not mediated since early this morning, and you keep your room significantly cooler than my own…”

“Oh! You should’ve said…”, Jim exclaims, already pushing himself up into a seated position. “Let me just go adjust the thermostat…”

“It is not necessary, Capt… Jim. I will be taking my leave now- I require a warm shower, and several hours of meditation in my own quarters before first shift begins.”

“Oh… oh, okay…”, Jim stutters as Spock abruptly stands himself up, kicking off the bedsheets. He watches his nude form bend over as he picks up his discarded clothing from the floor, appreciating the way his body glowed under the starlight coming through his unshuttered window. “Perhaps… I could join you? In the shower, I mean…”

“Inadvisable- the temperature I typically shower at would cause mild to severe scalding for most humans. But if you would like to take first shower, I would not object. I only thought it logical…”

“No, no, Spock! You’re good, you go… first.”, Jim says, tentatively biting his lip. “Perhaps I could… meet you in your room afterwards, then?”

“For what purpose, Jim?”

He asked the question so innocently, so curiously, like he truly could not fathom why Jim would want to enjoy any more of his company tonight. Perhaps aftercare or cuddling wasn’t really a thing on Vulcan- it would make sense if it wasn’t, no need to deal with whirlwind emotions after all, just the physical needs. And besides, he had just said he needed to meditate for the next few hours, undisturbed. Was it really logical for Jim to go through to Spock’s stiflingly hot room, just to watch him sitting cross-legged on a mat for hours? All while he just lay down on Spock’s bed waiting for him, sweating away like a typical human, messing up his clean sheets?

But you would prefer that, wouldn’t you? For him to feel the urge to be near you all the time, the same way you feel towards him. For him to want you there, need you there, to be the first thing he wakes up to in the morning…

Pathetic, really.

Jim hushes his inner critic a moment, doing his best to concentrate on the man in front of him, still nude and cocking his head, waiting on an answer to his query. He simply plasters a wide smile onto his face, and gives a low chuckle:

“Oh, no reason, Spock… thought you might want to get another game of chess in before hitting the hay.”

“That is a kind offer, Captain… Jim. But I am quite tired now, and you seem fatigued yourself. Perhaps a quick game over lunch tomorrow?”

“Sounds great! Look forward to it!”, Jim grins, his face starting to hurt from the strain of it. “And… it’ll be nice to see you back on the bridge!”

“Indeed.”, Spock says, the corners of his mouth turning up a little. “And can I just say, Jim, once again… thank you, for allowing this. It was a most satisfying experience.”

Allowing this…

Satisfying experience…

Congrats Kirk, you’re a decent fuck apparently. Too bad that’s all you seem to be good for...

“N… not a problem, Spock.”, Jim stutters, his smile really starting to waver now. “You go… warm yourself up then!”

“I will.”, Spock nods, walking over and pressing the release door for the bathroom. “You sleep well now, Jim…”

“Will do!”, Jim says, chuckling to himself as a way to cover up his rapidly waning smile. “Damn, you really know how to love ‘em and leave ‘em, don’t you Mr. Spock?”

He doesn’t fully realise the way his innocuous little comment could be taken, until he sees Spock staring at him blank-faced, freezing in the doorway. Jim immediately feels the panic rise up in him, and does his best to back-pedal:

“It’s… just a human saying. It means… goodnight.”

“You could have just said that.”, Spock says, his face softening slightly, before turning back towards the open doorway, his figure silhouetted against the bright light within. “Goodnight, Jim.”

“Goodnight Spock…”, he murmurs as the bathroom door closes in front of him, leaving him in near darkness.

As soon as he hears the water running and he’s pretty sure Spock isn’t going to come running back in here again, looking for a missing sock or something, he covers his face with his hands and groans.

God, what had he just done?

His first officer, his best friend, the man he was in love with…

He was going to ruin it all, he knew it- all because he would keep getting his hopes up, praying that one day Spock would magically feel the same, even though it was obvious that was just a temporary infatuation for him, one that would soon be sated after a few more goes around in his quarters.

He couldn’t let this happen again, he just couldn’t. Tomorrow, first chance he got, he would tell Spock that it was a one-time thing, that it had been a fun experiment (a huge understatement on his part), but not one worth risking their friendship and professional careers over. Spock would be confused, perhaps even a little hurt even, but he would eventually get over it- after all, he’d had Jim once, surely that would be enough for him, now that he’d satisfied his curiosity?

But it’s not enough for you, is it?

Jim places a pillow in front of his face and punches it hard- no, this could not happen again, it would not happen. Yes, sure, he’d already messed up, damage was done, there was no going back now… but that didn’t mean he had to keep making the same mistake over and over, letting himself get his hopes up again and again, only to have them quickly be dashed.

His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

Tomorrow, he’d tell him- let him know this could not, under any circumstances, happen again.

This would not happen again.

**********************************************************************************

The next evening, Jim makes sure the thermostat is turned all the way up a good fifteen minutes before Spock is due to arrive. And he leaves a water bottle, along with a towel to dab at himself with, on the nightstand.

This time, Spock stays over.

Chapter Text

Present Day

Just as he’s about to press the button for the turbolift, the door swishes open to reveal Spock standing there, his eyes widening the slightest margin when he finds himself facing Jim. He immediately stands to attention, his expression returning to one of complete neutrality.

“Captain, I was… just about to go looking for you. There is something that may require your attention. Admiral Lawson…”

“… is on the observation deck, yes, I know- Uhura just called me in sickbay, she filled us in.” Jim sighs as he crosses his arms across his chest, giving him a steady look. “Don’t suppose you have any idea what he wants to see me about?”

“Negative, sir.,” Spock says stolidly, hands still clasped tightly behind his back. “I did attempt to question him, citing my status as your second in command, but he was quite insistent he would only talk to you, and that what he had to say was for your ears only.”

“Strange…”, Jim mutters, tapping his arm. “… something to do with the alliance, maybe? But that doesn’t explain why you wouldn’t be allowed in the room… suppose I’d better see him, shouldn’t I? See what this is all about?”

“If that is what you desire, sir…”, Spock says slowly, looking Jim up and down. “If you would like, I can try and dissuade him again, ask that he come back tomorrow…”

“That is kind of you, Spock, but I don’t need you getting in trouble with the admiralty for my sake.”, Jim grimaces, stepping into the elevator alongside Spock, suddenly aware this is the first time he’s seen him since their big blow-up this morning, the tension still hanging heavy in the air. He hesitates, before lightly brushing the sides of his hands with his own, a tingle going up his spine as he does so: “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like it if you accompanied me… if Lawson has anything to say about it, well, quite frankly, he can shove it.”

The corner of Spock’s mouth turns up ever so slightly and Jim feels a sense of relief wash over him.

“I would be… quite amiable to that request, sir.”

Jim gives him a weak smile before turning towards the voice command, and requesting that they go to the observation desk, turning the handle as he does so. The system immediately complies, and the lift starts shooting upwards, levels of the Enterprise going past them in a blur of vague shapes and colours, as the small space they’re confined to hums around them pleasantly. Jim glances nervously over at Spock, who is just staring ahead impassively, the only indication anything is amiss being a slight tightness to his jaw. He must feel Jim’s eyes being trained on him, because he suddenly turns his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Is there something you wanted, Captain?”

Jim lets out a heavy sigh- he had wanted to do this back in their quarters, but since they were alone now… well, no time like the present.

“Spock, I just wanted to say… I am so sorry about the way I treated you this morning. And especially what I said to you… it was unforgiveable of me, and I do not blame you if you do not wish to speak to me for a while…”

“Your apologies are unnecessary, Captain.”, Spock interrupts, his tone apathetic but there is still tension in his face. “I… know you did not mean what you said…”

“Doesn’t matter if I meant it or not, I shouldn’t have said it!”

“Regardless…”, Spock sighs, suddenly looking very tired. “… you were upset, in pain… I understood that. I… should not have lost my temper, it was unbecoming of me…”

“What?”, Jim stares at him, gobsmacked. “Spock, you did nothing wrong! I was the one being unreasonable and hostile. You responded… completely rationally, frankly.”

“I should not have threatened to report you…”

“Spock, I was being an idiot… an irresponsible idiot, and you dealt with me like any good first officer should when a crewman is acting disorderly. The fault lies entirely with me. And… I should never have said what I did. I… hurt you. And I am truly sorry, I know that doesn’t make up for it, but…”

“Jim… please.”, Spock says, putting a hand up, his expression slightly pained. “As I said, I know you did not mean it, that you were simply lashing out due to being in a great sense of distress. I should have had more patience…”

“Spock, you were patient with me all night!”, Jim exclaims frustratedly. “And me feeling terrible is no excuse for me to treat you terribly.”

“Perhaps not, Captain- but I should have been more empathetic towards you this morning, rather than just demanding you listen to reason.,” Spock says quietly, turning his head away from Jim to look forward again, hands still clasped behind his back. “I know that my inherent lack of… emotional comprehension has caused many issues between us in the past; that my behaviour towards you has appeared callous or inconsiderate… such to the point you doubted I had any feelings for you. I have tried to improve my emotional literacy ever since our first mind meld together, when I first saw how much my behaviour had truly affected you. I must confess, however… that I still find myself severely lacking…”

“Spock…”, Jim starts shaking his head profusely. “… you are absolutely fine. Better than fine, perfect really… I do not need you to change the way you act for my sake. I love you just the way you are… because of the way you are, even…”

“That is kind of you to say, Jim.”, Spock says softly, but he doesn’t look like he really believes it.

A sudden beeping noise lets them know they are now close to the observation deck. However, just as the lift begins to slow, Jim puts his hand over the stall button, bringing it to a halt.

Spock looks over at him, raising a curious eyebrow:

“Captain, we should not be stopping these lifts unnecessarily- other crewmen are in need of them…”

“I know that Spock. It’s just… look, this won’t take long, okay?”, Jim sighs heavily, his hand still pressed against the stall button. “The way I felt in the first six months of our relationship… it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should’ve told you how I felt from the start, made sure we were both on the same page about everything. But I didn’t, because… well, I’m a coward, and an insecure one at that. I didn’t want to deal with possibility of you rejecting me... I made myself miserable, because I’m a stupid, irrational and emotional human. And honestly, I can’t help but wish I was more like you a lot of the time… I would certainly be a better captain if I had a more Vulcan temperament.”

Spock frowns at him, looking genuinely confused.

“I do not understand why you would think that, Jim- I find you to be a most exemplary captain. And I’m sure the vast majority of your crew would agree with me…”

“Come on, Spock, you have to admit… I’ve made some blunders in the past. People have died on my watch…”

“Yes, and it is… unfortunate. But it is impossible to save everyone, Jim, and the nature of our mission is a dangerous one- your crew understood that when they signed up. You have faced impossible decisions time and time again, and sometimes, there are no good options. More often than not, you manage to find another way, but no one can pull off miracles forever. And I know that such loss… hits you harder than most, Jim. You feel a great deal of responsibility to your crew, to your friends… and you already hold yourself to such a high standard…”

“Yes, well… I should be!” Jim retorts, hating the way he can feel his eyes stinging. “I’m the captain, I have a duty to all who work under me and I… fall short, time and time again. Because I’m a slave to my emotions! I let myself get panicked, angry, depressed… I get overwhelmed, make the wrong decisions, hurt the people I care about. The Enterprise needs a strong leader, not some emotional weakling who’s one bad day away from losing it completely…”

“Jim.,” Spock says firmly, his eyes darkening. “You are not weak- you know this. You are one of the strongest men I have ever known.”

“I notice you didn’t tell me I wasn’t emotional, Spock.,” Jim smiles weakly, still holding back the tears.

“Because you are emotional, Jim. You are one of the most emotional humans I have ever met.”

“Jeez, thanks Spock.,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Sure, it was true, but he didn’t have to say it.

“You misunderstand me, Jim- you see your sensitive nature as a weakness, whereas I see it as one of your greatest strengths.”

Jim stares at him, uncomprehending.

“Spock, how can you… say that? You have devoted your entire life to the teachings of Surak, to logic and reason… my emotionality should disgust you…”

“Logic and reason is the correct path for me, Jim- it does not mean it is the correct path for you. I will admit, I used to look down on non-Vulcans for expressing their emotions so openly and freely, but I’ve now come to appreciate that it is necessary and healthy for most other humanoid species to process their emotions in such a way. And since meeting you, I can appreciate the many advantages that come with it.”

“Like what?”, Jim sniffs, hand still pressed on the stall button- he really hoped there weren’t any crewmembers waiting down below. He didn’t need them to see their captain in such a state.

“You allow yourself to show people you care, Jim- your crew are loyal to you because it’s clear you have their best interests at heart, that you are willing to put your own life on the line for them. You do not make rash decisions out of some sense of ego, but because you genuinely believe there is always some better way, even when logic itself dictates it cannot be so. Your empathy allows you to comfort those in your care and extend mercy to those deserving of it. Your strong sense of morality dictates every decision you make, and you always puts the needs and comforts of others before your own. The crew have seen you grieve in times of tragedy, they see when you are scared, angry, frustrated… and how every time, you do your best to rise above it. It gives them the courage to do the same, even when all hope seems lost- they fight on not just because they believe in you and the mission, but because they like you. Your ability to form connections and inspire loyalty in others has proved quite advantageous, time and time again. I am not saying your extreme sensitivity is not without its drawbacks- I have seen inside your mind, how overwhelming such emotions can be and the toll it has taken on you over the years… but please do not mistake your struggles for weakness. Your ability to express yourself so freely and honestly… it inspires trust in your people, as they have no doubts about your intentions. It is one of your many qualities which makes you an ideal leader, particularly when commanding a mostly human crew.” Spock pause a moment, his eyebrows crinkling together. “And it is also the reason why I  would make a poor replacement…”

Jim shakes his head:

“You… don’t give yourself enough credit…”

“I give myself credit where it is due, Jim- I am well aware of where my strengths lie, believe me. But I am also aware I have trouble connecting with most humans, even those I work closely with. Many find my lack of emotional awareness frustrating to deal with, and I’ve been told on more than occasion that I seem to ‘lack a heart’…  I am, of course, referring to the common human expression, not my biological reality, you understand. I like to think of myself as pragmatic, my reasoning well thought out and logical, but I… do understand, that the way I express myself can seem rather callous or insensitive by human standards…”

“They just don’t know you like I do.”, Jim whispers, brushing his fingers against his. “And you have friends on the Enterprise, Spock, you know this…”

Spock raises an eyebrow at him.

“Only because you forced me to engage recreationally with the crew at least twice a week, Jim. And even then, most of my friends are yours… I do not believe I would have ever sought out companionship on this ship outside of work hours, if not for your meddling.”

“Okay, maybe I did push you a little… but people do enjoy your company, Spock. And they respect you. If you were my captain, I’d certainly follow you to hell and back…”

“I believe you are quite biased on that front, Captain.”, Spock says dryly, the sides of his mouth turning upwards. “Regardless, my point stands: you are a great captain because of your emotional nature, not in spite of it. And you are wrong to think that I would be disgusted by something so integral to your character. It is, in fact, one of the many things I love about you: the fact you are so very different from me. I truly would not want you any other way.”

Jim is just staring at him, breathing heavily, and he has stopped trying to hold the tears back, letting them flow freely down his cheeks. Spock stares back at him, looking slightly alarmed by the display.

“Jim, I… it was not my intention to upset you…”

“No, no, Spock! These are just… good tears! Happy tears!”, Jim laughs shakily, wiping at his face with his free hand. “It’s just… you said you love me. I know you say it all the time in the Vulcan way, and I love that too, don’t get me wrong… but I dunno, it’s just nice to hear, I suppose.”

Spock raises his eyebrows at him, before giving the tiniest smirk.

“Well, we do spend most of our free time in each other’s company, Captain… it was quite inevitable I would pick up on some of your annoying human habits…”

Jim beams at him, tears still streaking down his face as he suddenly surges forward and grabs him by both sides of his face, pulling him into a passionate kiss…

… and takes his hand off the stall button, the turbolift doors swishing open in front of them.

It’s only when he hears a soft gasp that Jim realises someone is standing there, watching them.

The two men spring apart, and Lieutenant Uhura continues to stare at them open-mouthed, a gobsmacked look on her face, her big, dark eyes rounder and larger than ever. Her gaze flickers between the two of them, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to re-find her voice:

“How… when… why…”, she shakes her head, composing herself as best she can, PADD clutched tightly to her chest. Her expression quickly changes from one of bewilderment, to one of great annoyance. “Oh, for pity’s sake! I don’t have time for this…. I’m late enough for my next meeting as it is! You two gentleman should know that stalling these lifts is both inconsiderate and a safety hazard… I believe you covered it in one of our safety briefings only the other week Captain…”

“Ah, yes… apologies… uh… lieutenant…”, Jim coughs awkwardly, stepping out of the lift with Spock following soon after. “We will… keep that in mind… in future…”

“Please do.”, she sighs, stepping into the lift, her heels clacking against the floor. “I assume you both want me to keep quiet about this?”

“That would be preferable, yes…”

“Fine.”, she shrugs, her dark eyes glittering with amusement. “I suppose I can keep a secret… briefing room please!”, she suddenly calls into the turbolift’s voice command, before turning back to the two of them, grinning wickedly. “But I do want all the details gentleman… Commander Spock, I request your company over drinks tonight- non-negotiable.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”, Spock bows slightly, his expression betraying no evident discomfort with the situation at hand.

“Excellent!”, she grins widely, giving him a little wink. “I look forward to it! And Captain, I suggest you get yourself a cold drink of water before meeting with the admiral… you look a little flushed.”

She lets out another evil little giggle before the doors finally swish closed, vanishing her from sight, leaving the two men alone together, staring straight ahead: Spock stoic and po-faced, Jim wide-eyed and blushing.

Jim turns towards Spock, rubbing the back of his neck, giving him his classic crooked, slightly guilty-looking, smile:

“Well, Commander… I believe that is two crewmen in the know now. Only four-hundred and fifty-four to go…”

Chapter Text

They find Lawson seated casually on one of the sofas in the observation deck, looking out the window towards the planet of Vallen down below, a strange inverse of Jim’s home planet of Earth: blue land and green seas, and a swirling, purple-tinted atmosphere. He regards Lawson carefully as he enters, trying to get a read on his body language, but the man had such a poker face, he wouldn’t be surprised if he and Spock shared a common ancestor. While he had encountered Lawson many a time in passing over the years, they had never worked together, and Jim certainly couldn’t remember ever sharing so much as a polite conversation. He was a healthy-looking man in his sixties, with a slim build, weathered brown skin and black, slicked-back hair that was only going slightly grey around the edges. By all accounts, a very conventional looking gentleman, though there was an authoritative presence to the man in person. Jim got the feeling he’d never felt the need to raise his voice in his life, that people were simply compelled to listen.

Lawson stands himself up as they enter, hands placed behind his back in the usual military fashion, but Jim notes that he’s unable to straighten his back fully. An old injury that never quite healed properly, perhaps? Even modern medicine could only do so much for very bad breakages, and age caught up with everyone eventually.

“Captain Kirk, it is a pleasure to see you again. Though I will admit, I did not come up here for a simple social call…”

“I assumed as much, Admiral.”, Jim nods back, also standing to attention. “It is not often we have someone of your rank beaming up to us directly.”

“Indeed, Captain Kirk…”, Lawson says grimly, his mouth set in a thin line as he glances towards Spock, his face betraying nothing. “… commander, would you mind leaving me and your captain to talk alone, please? This should only be for his ears…”

“And why is that, Admiral?”, Jim enquires, not even giving Spock a chance to respond to that. “Commander Spock is my second-in-command on the Enterprise… surely whatever you’re entrusting to me can also be shared with him…”

Lawson regards him cooly a moment, before responding:

“Because what I came to talk to your about is rather… personal to you specifically, Captain, and I do not wish to make you uncomfortable by discussing it so openly amongst your crew…”

Jim is confused for a moment, but then just as quickly, it hits him, his expression clearing slightly.

“Is this about… the report I made yesterday?”

Lawson nods, his eyes darting back towards Spock.

“So you can understand…”

“He knows- he accompanied me to the station, actually. I’m guessing whoever reported back to you neglected to inform you of that fact?”

“Indeed sir.”, Lawson mutters, eyes swivelling back to Jim. “So, I suppose he must know all the finer details of this… incident.”

Jim gives a steady nod.

“There are no secrets between a captain and his first officer.”, he states, not missing the way Spock glances over at him, his eyes softening slightly.

“It would seem so…”, Lawson murmurs, a contemplative look on his face as he glances between the two of them, before reverting back to his emotionless self. “Then I suppose I better get straight to the point then… Admiral Henson was taken into custody this morning, removed from his temporary lodgings down on Vallen. He is currently being questioned by Starfleet law enforcement, and we will likely not hear an update on the situation until sometime tomorrow.”

“Good to hear, Admiral.”, Jim smiles, his head suddenly feeling a lot lighter.

Got you, you bastard…

“Indeed, Captain… Admiral Henson’s actions towards you were reprehensible, and completely unacceptable for someone of his position. The idea that one of our own, an admiral no less, would do that to a fellow colleague, well… it staggers belief. You can be assured he will be dealt with swiftly, and in a manner that recognises the gravity of his actions.”

“I would not have expected otherwise sir.”, Jim says, raising his eyebrow at Lawson. There was definitely something decidedly odd about his whole manner- he’d picked up on it the moment he first saw him. He looked outwardly calm in the face, but there was a tenseness to his body, like a python ready to strike. “Can I just ask… how did you come to know about all this? If the arrest only happened this morning? I was assured total discretion by the officers we met with…”

“Indeed, Captain… and that would usually be the case. But unfortunately due to the political situation at hand… well, law enforcement was obliged to tell us.”

“You mean the Vallen alliance?”

“Correct. As you can imagine, involving the royal family in such a distasteful affair is… not ideal for diplomatic relations, to put it lightly.”

Jim frowns at him- Lawson’s expression hadn’t changed, but there was a definite pointedness to his tone.

“But it is Admiral Henson I am reporting, sir, not the princess… I made that very clear…”

“Yes, of course, Captain… but she will still need to be called as a witness, amongst others who attended the event that evening. Surely you must understand how…  awkward that would be, for everyone involved? Including yourself?”

“Awkward?”, Jim scoffs, forgetting himself a little, quickly recovering when he sees the admiral’s mouth twitch in irritation. “Forgive me sir, it’s just that… a crime was committed. Yes, the legal process is never exactly comfortable for anyone involved, but… it is necessary, and I am willing to do whatever is needed to see Henson answer for his crimes. Besides, my recovered memories will be the primary evidence for this trial, there may not even be a need to call in the princess as a witness…”

“… but it is not a guarantee, Captain.”, Lawson says gravely, fiddling with his fingers. “And if the princess were to find out you did not actually consent to her… propositions that evening, well… she may take offence, and pull out of the agreement all together. And we are at a crucial stage in the agreement right now, we cannot afford any more slip-ups. You understand, yes?”

“No…”, Jim says slowly, his expression darkening. “… I don’t think I do understand you, sir. Why don’t you spell it out for me?”

Lawson just sighs, a tired look on his face.

“Look, Kirk, you know better than anyone how precarious our position is- without access to the Vallen’s military weapons, Starfleet will not be able to prevent war from breaking out in the outer galaxies. We simply do not have enough outposts in these parts, and our resources are limited. Without this alliance, make no mistake, we will lose- and billions will suffer for it. And if the only solution involves playing nice with some temperamental dictators… well, so be it. It is all about the greater good at the end of the day, compromises must be made, as unsavoury as they may be.”

Jim nods, arms crossed against his chest, brow furrowed, while Spock just stares on blankly, his intelligent eyes meeting Lawson’s unreadable ones. The strange energy Jim had noticed before was still permeating the room, putting him on edge.

“Admiral, I assure you, Starfleet law enforcement and the justice system will do their upmost to uphold discretion for all parties involved. If you have any worries, you should speak to them directly, not me…”

“… I already have, Captain. And quite frankly… I am not satisfied that they will be able to stop the more salacious details from being released to the public, particularly for a case such as this. Many people of great interest are involved: the Vallen royals, Admiral Henson and yourself, Kirk- you have become something of a minor celebrity these last few years. Your many exploits while captaining the Enterprise have made galactic headlines quite a few times. With all this interest, leaks are inevitable, news of what happened will spread across all known regions of the galaxy… and I’m sure this would not be a desirable outcome for you, Captain. While I confess to not knowing you well, you have always come across as to me as a man who values his personal privacy… especially regarding something as sensitive as this.”

“Yes… that would be true…”, Jim says, glancing over at Spock, trying to catch his eye, but he is still stood silently, studying the admiral. “… but it is a risk I’m willing to take. After all, I have no other choice. Henson should not go unpunished…”

“But you have other choices, Captain… indeed, if you allow the admiralty to do their own internal investigation into the matter, we can keep the number of people in the know to a minimum, greatly reducing the likelihood of potential scandal. I’m sure you would find that infinitely, preferable, no?”

“ ‘Internal investigation’?”, Jim frowns. “What exactly do you mean? That you and your fellow admirals want to assist in the investigation? Because, once again, that seems more a question for Starfleet law enforcement than me…”

“What I am saying, Kirk, is that you should consider… not involving law enforcement at all in this case. You still have time to retract your initial report and allow the admiralty to deal with Henson privately. We will ensure he will be punished appropriately and in proportion to the severity of his crime, while also keeping this situation as contained as it can be. With regards to the political suggestion, of course. Otherwise, I would never suggest going about this in such an unconventional manner…”

“Admiral.”, Jim interrupts harshly, barely restraining his simmering rage. He honestly couldn’t believe he was hearing. “If I am understanding you correctly… you are asking me to retract the report I made about my assault? And to simply allow the admiralty to investigate one of their own? Would that not be a major conflict of interest?”

“None of us have any loyalty to Henson, I assure you…”

“How exactly would you ensure that he answer for what he did, without involving law enforcement? Because that man deserves a very long prison sentence, at a minimum.”

“He will, of course, be removed from his position, and Starfleet as a whole. And, of course, that would leave an admiral position open for you Kirk, if you were interested after finishing your five-year mission. You are already our youngest ever starship captain- ‘youngest admiral in the history of Starfleet’ has a nice ring to it, I believe…”

“Please do not try to sweet-talk me, Admiral.”, Jim snaps, no longer even pretending to play nice anymore. “I want Henson to answer for what he did, and a nice early retirement sure as hell isn’t enough.”

“If it is reparations you are seeking, we can look into forcing Henson to allocate any of his material possessions to you- I believe he has an old family home back on Earth he’d be extremely reluctant to part with…”

“Let me be clear- I do not want anything from that man.”, Jim hisses, striding forward so he can close the distance between him and Lawson, who is still just gazing on impassively. “What I want is justice- not just for me, but other potential victims of his! I am very likely not the first, you know that, don’t you? And does it not concern you, Admiral, that he was somehow able to obtain a substance as dangerous and illegal as beutzogene? Simply having the intention of using it is a life sentence alone! And Henson likely has a supplier- law enforcement would be able to track them down, find the manufacturer, stop the distribution from its source…”

“Of course, Kirk, the admiralty will use all the resources at their disposal, hire private investigators and such the like…”

“But with all due respect, sir, that isn’t enough! I want Henson to be charged for his crime, for everyone to know what kind of man he is… I don’t want him simply disappeared!”

“With all due respect, Captain Kirk…”, Admiral Lawson replies, his tone cold, and dripping with condescension. “… you need to look at the bigger picture. I am, of course, sorry that this happened to you, but you must see reason- are you willing to let billions suffer, just so you can satisfy your thirst for revenge? Because that is what it might come down to, if this alliance doesn’t come to fruition.”

“And, so what? We’ll have to tiptoe around the Vallen royals for the rest of time, lest we offend them? Is this what Starfleet has come to, bending the knee to fascists?”

“This is hardly the first time Starfleet has had to make compromises for the greater good, Captain Kirk, and it won’t be the last- you yourself should know that. Sometimes difficult decisions must be made…”

“There is a different between compromise and turning a blind eye to savagery!”

Lawson simply gives him a cold stare.

“Unless I am remembering incorrectly, Captain, you were at the talks last weekend, advocating for the alliance yourself- in order to keep your position as a Starfleet captain, yes? People in the admiralty do talk… so maybe do not lecture me on morals, when you yourself have proven fallible.”

Jim’s face colours as mixture of white-hot rage and utter shame erupts within him- of course Lawson would know exactly how to get to him. He never wanted this alliance, hated the idea of Starfleet working with the Vallen government, had spoken out against it publicly… and yet as soon as top brass had threatened him with a disciplinary hearing, he had admitted defeat, attended the damn talks last weekend, acted like he had a change of heart.

It made his skin crawl, knowing what a selfish coward he was. Of course, he had justified it to himself, reasoned that him losing his captaincy wouldn’t help anyone, that he’d only hurt the mission and his own crew, but nothing he told himself was particularly convincing. He had helped facilitate the talks, and won Starfleet the alliance, even if the actual actions to get to that point had been less than savoury, and he had not actually been in control of himself at the time.

He was a hypocrite, pure and simple. His thoughts turn to Meeriana, her burnt face, the tears leaking painfully out of her one good eye, her grateful smile when he agreed to try and help her…

He had not deserved that smile.

“I believe we are getting off the subject, Admiral…”, Spock drones in his monotone, thankfully bringing Jim out of his self-loathing spiral and back into the present. “… let’s say the captain was to agree with your request to retract his initial report… what if someone were to discover that Starfleet had deliberately covered up a serious case of misconduct? By one of their highest-ranking members, no less? Such a scandal would damage Starfleet’s reputation irrevocably- and I do not see that being a desirable outcome for you or indeed any members of the admiralty.”

“I assure you Commander Spock…”, Lawson replies, fixing him with a sardonic stare. “… we are very capable of keeping things like this under wraps…”

“You have a lot of experience with that, do you Admiral?”, Jim chirps up, arms crossing against his chest. “Is that what half the job is nowadays?”

“Captain Kirk…”

“You know, Admiral…”, Jim sighs, taking another step towards the man so that they’re now practically feet to feet. “… Henson mentioned something to me that night, said that he was good at ‘burying stories’, whatever that meant. So I suppose my question to you is… do you happen to share his talent, or…”, Jim narrows his eyes at the older man, his voice low and dangerous: “… does he have something on you? Because you came running here pretty quick when you heard your admiral buddy had got himself into some hot water.”

Lawson, to his credit, doesn’t flinch, his eyes unblinking as he regards Jim carefully, no hint of panic or shame.

“Am I correct in assuming you will not be taking my advice, Captain Kirk?”

“You would be correct. Yes. Now… please get off my ship.”

Blank-faced, Lawson nods slowly before turning to pick up his jacket from the sofa.

“A pity… no-one will thank you if this alliance fails Kirk. Due to your own self-interest, no less…”

“I’m willing to take that risk. Get out.”

Lawson doesn’t respond to his rudeness, simply inclining his head at Kirk and giving a small bow to Spock before making his way towards the exit. Just as he’s about to press the release button on the door, he turns around and addresses them, his tone light and almost conversational suddenly, very different from his previous roboticness:

“You know, you should really think on what I said, Kirk…  billions of lives are on the line. You have until tonight to change your mind… they will likely try and formally charge Henson tomorrow. By then, it will be too late.”

Jim does not turn to look at him, instead choosing to stare out the window of the observation deck as he nods minutely.

“Thank you for the advice, Admiral… I will not change my mind, but I appreciate the effort. Have a safe trip back.”

With that last farewell, Lawson makes his way out the open door, and it is only as it swishes closed again that Jim allows himself to collapse against the sofa, rubbing at his temples.

“Well Spock…”, Jim mutters, giving his first officer a pained smile as he walks over, his eyebrows crinkling together in concern. “How about that, eh?”

“Indeed Jim…”, Spock murmurs grimly. “Would you like to discuss what just transpired over tea?”

“Oh, yes please- spiciest blend you have, thanks.”

Chapter Text

“Do you think I made the wrong choice? I mean, he had a point… if the lives of billions could be at stake…”

“No, t’hy’la.”, Spock says firmly, reaching under the table to grasp at his knee. “You deserve the right to justice, same as any other living being. And I do not believe the admiral when he claims that the alliance could be so fragile, one minor offence would cause it to fail. The Vallen royals have just as much to gain from this alliance as we do…”

“Yes, but that’s assuming we’re dealing with logical people here, Mr. Spock. Henson seemed to truly believe the Princess Feronzi would’ve called off the alliance entirely, if I chose not to sleep with her- insane!”

“Do you really trust the word of such a man, Jim?”

“No… but it didn’t seem like he was lying either. He basically said the whole reason Starfleet wanted me at the talks was because the princess wanted to meet me… and after meeting the woman, I can very much believe that. She was far more interested in getting to know me, than any of the political talk that day. Such wilful indifference and ignorance… truly a very dangerous trait in someone who holds such power over so many vulnerable people.”

“Indeed…”, Spock murmurs in agreement, sipping at his tea. “… but that does not mean she is entirely without reason. Like her father before her, she is interested in extending the reach of her power, beyond that of her own planet even… having ties to an intergalactic organisation such as Starfleet will certainly aid in that endeavour.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing…”

“That was not my intention, Captain… I am simply explaining why I find the likelihood of the Vallen’s pulling out of such an advantageous alliance to be extremely unlikely. You should not let the Admiral Lawson guilt you into thinking that seeking justice is somehow a selfish action on your part- he is the one at fault for suggesting that you and the admiralty participate in such a cover-up. A crime was committed, and it should be dealt with in a court of law, no matter the relative importance or notoriety of the individuals involved. If it were found out that high-ranking Starfleet officials had attempted to conceal such serious misconduct, well… the public would lose trust in Starfleet as an organisation. We cannot allow such a thing to happen.”

“Very logical argument, Mr. Spock.”, Jim smiles softly, taking a sip of his own tea. “But of course, I wouldn’t have expected anything different… do you think we’ll get any more trouble from Lawson? Or the rest of the admiralty, for that matter?”

“I have… insufficient data on Admiral Lawson to really make an informed hypothesis, Jim. I am aware of his career history and many accomplishments, but the man himself seems to be a bit of an enigma- something of a recluse as far as I can tell, with very little personal information available publicly. As for the rest of the admiralty, I must choose to have faith in the system until proven otherwise- it is how I have always approached my work. That is not to say I am never sceptical of those in positions of power, just that I am not inherently distrustful unless I have good reason to be.”

“That was a long way of saying ‘I don’t know’ Spock.”, Jim chuckles, shaking his head. “But I do agree with your general sentiment… I hate living with uncertainty, but hopefully once Henson is formally charged tomorrow, we’ll see for ourselves how Starfleet chooses to act.”

“Indeed, Jim… though you should keep in mind, that even if Henson is formally charged with assault and drug possession, the process to get there may not be straight-forward. And you will likely be questioned about the incident in court, which may dredge up some… undesirable memories.”

“I’m aware, Spock.”, Jim grimaces, placing his steaming mug back down on the coaster. “But I can take it- I promise. So long as it gets that bastard put away for life, and he can’t hurt anyone else. Looking back on that night, I don’t even think it was me he was intending to drug that evening… he seemed to be under the impression that I’d be more than receptive to Feronzi’s advances, that I would sleep with her of my own accord. When I did not reciprocate, he seemed genuinely surprised. He said my reputation proceeds me… and honestly, he’s not wrong there. Nobody was surprised when I started fondling the princess on the dancefloor, not even Bones, and we’ve known each other for years. The fact people would just expect me to act so unprofessionally in a work setting, well… I’m not going to lie, I do find that rather disheartening. It makes me wonder if… that’s just how everyone sees me. A joke. Someone who would sleep with an alien ambassador just to fulfil an alliance… that it’s the kind of thing I do often, just to get ahead…”

“You know that is not true, Jim. And you should not pay any mind to the opinions of a man like Henson… he was likely projecting his own twisted worldview onto you. The fact he would take such a drug to an official diplomatic meeting… says a lot about where his priorities lie.”

“True… damn, it’s crazy to think if we weren’t together, I probably would’ve gone on believing I’d chosen to get black-out drunk at a work event and had my way the princess. It would’ve been humiliating, sure, but I could’ve lived with it. But the idea that I’d made the choice to be unfaithful to you… it was the worst feeling in the world. And the fact you didn’t believe for one second that I was capable of such a thing, well…”, Jim reaches over the table and grasps Spock’s hand. “… I’m grateful for that. Honestly, I feel like you have more faith in me that I do in myself.”

“Perhaps, Jim…”, Spock sighs, running his finger over Jim’s knuckles, a pleasant tingle running down his arm. “… you are your own worst critic.”

“Pot calling the kettle black.”

“… a human-saying, I presume?”

“It means that you’re criticising me for a trait that you also share, Mr. Spock. You often don’t give yourself enough credit- professionally and otherwise.”

“I assure you, Captain, I am not prone to self-esteem issues the way full-blooded humans are- I am simply acutely aware of where my strengths and weaknesses lie, and where significant improvements can be made.”

“But how do you improve upon perfection, Mr. Spock?”

“Quite an illogical question, Jim- but I appreciate the flattery.”

“I can tell- you’re blushing a little.”

“… the tea is quite hot, Jim.”

“Sure…”, Jim chuckles, raising his own cup to his lips again, already feeling a lot better. It was lovely, just having easy banter like this with Spock, like it was any other day aboard the Enterprise. “By the way, how’d the morning shift go? Any major updates I should know about?”

Jim sees Spock hesitate slightly, his back stiffening a little, and immediately he is worried.

“Spock…?”

“It is… nothing of consequence, Captain.”

“Spock…”, Jim gives him a warning look as he sets his cup down.

“The princess regent’s husband has been in contact- apparently they are looking to re-negotiate certain aspects of the initial agreement…”

“Ooh boy, Starfleet is going to love that…”

“I… don’t believe they will, Jim?”

“Sarcasm, sorry. Continue.”

“… and the princess has requested that you attend the second round of talks at the palace in a few days’ time.” Seeing the way Jim immediately stiffens, Spock hurriedly elaborates: “To be clear, I informed the prince regent that you would be unable to attend, that you caught some kind of virus planet-side, so please do not worry…”

“Perhaps I should go.”

Spock stares at him.

“I… fail to see your reasoning, Jim.”

Jim shrugs, taking a long sip from his cup.

“I was just thinking about… Meeriana, I guess. I promised to try and help her, and the Enterprise is set to leave port by the end of this week. This might be my last chance to get access to the palace, see if I can overhear or come across anything useful that might help the People of Vallen’s cause…”

“Such a thing occurring seems extremely improbable, Jim- the Vallen delegates are unlikely to discuss anything classified or confidential within hearing distance of guests. And… I confess, I do not like the idea of you going back down there. Even if you were to come out of the event physically unharmed… going back there so soon after the incident occurred will likely be extremely emotionally overwhelming. And I will not be able to go down there to support you, due to the Vallen’s distaste for my Vulcan heritage…”

“Ugh, bastards.”, Jim mutters, rolling his thumb over Spock’s knuckle. “And to be clear, I do understand that it’s probably a bad idea, Spock, I just… have a lot of guilt over playing such a large part in forming this alliance. To just leave now and wash my hands of the whole situation…”

“The alliance would’ve likely gone forward, with or without your participation, Jim.”

“But that doesn’t make me feel any better about whole situation, Spock… I should’ve stuck to my principles, called their bluff…”

“… and the Enterprise would’ve been left without a captain, Jim. And Starfleet would’ve still attempted to form an alliance, likely successfully.”

“Maybe, maybe not… point is, I feel the need to do something… or at least make the attempt to. I’ve always done my best to follow orders, because I believe in Starfleet and its mission, but lately… it’s felt different. More… bureaucratic, cold, no room for dissent. I felt like a damn puppet all weekend, spouting arguments I didn’t even really believe in, and I feel shame, knowing that I willingly participated in such a farce. Maybe this is just about me alleviating my guilt, even just a little bit, but…”, Jim groans, putting his face in his hands. “… god, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore…”

“You are exhausted, Jim.”, Spock says sympathetically, rubbing his shoulder. “You should go back to your quarters and attempt to rest… I assume Dr McCoy has put you on medical leave?”

“You would be correct.”, Jim nods wearily. “Also, he, er... gave me a little something to help me sleep. As you originally suggested… sorry, that I was such an ass about it…”

“You have already apologised, Jim… but I will, once again, accept.”, Spock nods, sipping the last dregs of his tea. “Would you mind if I joined you later tonight? I understand if you are wanting to be alone…”

“No… I mean, yes, I want you there! Bones also said that the sleeping aid should stop the dreams for the next two nights… if you’re worried about that, I mean. I am sorry I kept you up all night…”

“It is no bother- I need far less sleep than you, you know that. And even if I didn’t, I want to be there for you. I assume the dreams will return once you go off the drug, correct?”

“Most likely, yes…”, Jim sighs, scrunching up his face. “God, I hate how much of a mess I am right now…”

“Your mind and body are simply reacting to trauma, Jim… it will pass. Faster, if you do everything in your power to look after yourself.”

“You my psychologist now, Spock?”, Jim smiles at him, running his finger over his palm. “But, yes, I promise to stop acting like an idiot from now on: no more fights in front of the turbolift, no more taking out my bad mood on you… and if I do, please immediately call me out on it, call me a stupid illogical human if you must- I’ll probably deserve it.”

“Will do, Captain…”, Spock says, a faint smile on his lips. “Shall I take you to your room now?”

“No, don’t trouble yourself Spock…”, Jim sighs, swigging the remaining liquid in his cup. “… I can make my own way back. And you need to go back to the bridge… I know how much Scotty hates being away from the engineering room…”

“Very well, Jim.”, Spock nods primly, holding out two of his fingers. “I hope you sleep well.”

Grinning, Jim holds his own fingers out, pressing them softly against Spock’s, before leaning forward and pressing his lips lightly against his:

“Thank you, t’hy’la…”, Jim whispers, hot air brushing against Spock’s cheek. “See you tonight, then?”

“Yes…”, Spock breathes back, staring intently into Jim’s eyes. “… although I warn you, I may be later than usual. I do have my appointment with Lieutenant Uhura, after all… and I imagine her questioning of me with regards to our relationship will be quite thorough…”

“Oh dear god, I almost forgot about that…”, Jim groans, rubbing the side of his head as he feels a migraine come on. “Well, just remember, you don’t have to answer everything she asks… let her know we have a right to privacy, same as any other couple. I am her captain after all… I need to be able to look her in the eye every day when I’m giving orders…”

“Understood, Jim.”, Spock replies, pulling his head back a little and straightening his back. “I will use my best judgement.”

“Excellent.”, Jim smiles at him, giving his hand one last squeeze. “Now, lets head back to the turbolift- we’ll try to be more discrete this time…”

“Or we could just not engage in affectionate acts, Jim...”

“Nah.”

Chapter Text

A whooshing noise awakens Jim from his slumber- it takes him another moment to comprehend that it’s the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing, his quarters still in complete darkness but he can make out a figure making their towards the bed.

“… Spock?”, Jim murmurs groggily, raising his head from the pillow slightly, squinting across the dark room.

“Apologies ashayam, I did not mean to wake you…”, Spock whispers softly, lifting the bedsheet and crawling in beside him, letting Jim envelop him in the strong warmth of his arms. “… you should attempt to sleep again… you will feel better for it tomorrow…”

“T’is fine…”, Jim mutters against his shoulder, even though he is already struggling to keep his eyes open.  “Been resting for hours now… whatever Bones prescribed had a real kick to it…”

“Still, would you be content to just lie here a while?”

“Yes, that sounds…”, Jim stifles a yawn. “… good to me. My mind’s awake, but my body hasn’t caught up yet…”

Spock gazes at him fondly a moment, brushing a hand against his cheek, before glancing over at the control panel next to his bed, frowning.

“It is quite warm in here for you, Jim… shall I turn the temperature down?”

“No, no, Spock, leave it… did it deliberately. Wanted you to feel comfortable through here… besides, if I get too hot, I’ll just snuggle against you. Your cold-bloodedness has its advantages…”, Jim smiles, leaning forward and capturing his lips in a kiss. “Hmmm…”, he hums appreciatively. “… you taste of whisky…”

“Yes… Lieutenant Uhura insisted that I try the beverage. A gift from Commander Scott I was told, from his Earth homeland of Scotland- Aberdeen to be precise. I did try to explain to her that Vulcans are mostly immune to the effects of alcohol but said she explained that she did not want to be the only one drinking, so I acquiesced. The taste was not unpleasant, but I confess, I still do not understand Commander Scott’s fondness for the liquor, beyond sentimentality reasons.”

“Well, I enjoy the taste.”, Jim grins sleepily, whilst pecking him on the lips again. “You and the lieutenant have a good chat about us? Hope you weren’t too forthcoming…”

“Most of her questions were fairly basic Jim: she wanted to know who else is aware of our relationship, how and when it was initiated, how serious our intentions are towards each other, if we plan to be together after the end of the mission, if our relationship was sexual in nature…”

“What?”, Jim asks, suddenly feeling a lot more awake. “She asked that?!”

“Yes. And I confirmed it was…”, Spock turns towards him, one eyebrow raised. “Should I not have?”

“She shouldn’t have asked at all Spock! Look, I know we’re friends with the lieutenant, but at the end of the day, she does work for us, and there should be some boundaries. She should not be… well, I suppose she had been drinking, and she doesn’t quite have your Vulcan tolerance. Long as that was the extent of her questioning on that subject…”

Spock does not say anything, which makes Jim raise his own eyebrow.

“Spock, that was the extent of it, right? Right?”, Jim says, starting to prod him in the ribs when he continues to stay unusually quiet. “Spock, what else did she ask?”

Sighing, Spock looks up towards the ceiling:

“The lieutenant asked… if you had any preferences. Sexually speaking, to be specific.”

“What?!”, Jim yelps, fully awake now. “Spock, are you saying my communications officer asked you… what arrangement her superior officers have in the bedroom? Because I swear to god, if I have to hear her make the joke ‘giving or receiving transmission, Captain?’ on the bridge for the remainder of this mission…”

“She was not asking about that, Captain…”

“No? Oh, well, that’s good…”

“She asked if you had any ‘kinks’- I had to ask her for the definition of that word, and apparently it means…”

“I know what it means Spock!”, he says exasperatedly. “Well, I do hope you let her know that was an extremely inappropriate question!”

Spock simply stares ahead, a blank look on his face, a look that Jim recognised well- that was a look that said Spock knew he had messed up somehow, he just didn’t understand why.

“Spock…”, Jim whispers, shaking his shoulder, horror rising in his chest. “… what did you say?!”

“I…”, Spock hesitates, glancing towards Jim, who is staring at him wide-eyed. “… well, I simply said that I found your interests mostly conventional by human standards, based on my own experience and research… but that you did seem to enjoy excessive amounts of foreplay, both giving and receiving.” He pauses, noticing that the horrified look has not left his face. “… I did not go into any more detail than that, if that is what you are worried about…”

“Oh. God.”, Jim groans, putting his hands over his face. “I’m never going to hear the end of it…”

“If it makes you feel any better, Jim, she said she found it rather… sweet…”

“Spock, just… please tell me that was the end of it…”

“On that particular subject? Yes.”

“Ugh, good…”, Jim breathes, laying back and rubbing at his temples, his eyes screwed shut. “Remind me to sign up our communications officer for another course of sensitivity training… I think she needs a thorough reminder of what is and isn’t appropriate in the workplace…”

“Considering she caught us engaging in public displays of affection whilst stalling the turbolift, she might find that hypocritical, Captain…”

“We were caught up in the moment!”

“… I think it was just you actually, Jim…”

“Hey, you didn’t pull away either!”, Jim scoffs, nuzzling his neck a little. “And really, I am okay with the lieutenant knowing about us- she knows how to keep a secret, I’ll give her that. It’s just… at least with Bones, he doesn’t  actually want to know any detail-, I think he’s still a little traumatised after finding out about us actually. Uhura on the other hand… she is going to want to know every little detail! And I can’t help but miss… when it was just us.  I knew it would come out one day eventually, and I’m proud to call you my partner, don’t get me wrong… I just liked the privacy, I guess.”

“I understand Jim…”, Spock whispers, running his hand through his hair. “… and I’m sorry if I overshared with the lieutenant. It was not my intention; my judgement was just… inadequate.”

“It’s fine, Spock, really…”

“I can assure you that I did try to hold back some details where appropriate.”

“Such as?”

“She did ask about…”, Spock hesitates a second, his mouth set in a thin line. “… about what went down during the diplomacy weekend… between you and the princess…”

“Ah…”, Jim sighs, suddenly feeling very tired again. “What did you… say?”

“I did not tell her what happened, but I did make it very clear that you were not unfaithful to me… she seemed quite concerned on that point. Apparently, she noticed a noticed a slight change in my demeanour these last few days… a most perceptive woman.”

“And a good friend.”, Jim smiles at Spock, squeezing his shoulder. “Honestly, I should probably be a little jealous… I see the way she looks at you sometimes…”

“I can assure you our relationship is purely platonic Jim…”

“Just teasing Spock… I’ve seen inside your mind, remember? I know you’re an old romantic…”

“Vulcans are not ‘romantic’ Jim…”

“Sure they’re not… lover….”, Jim purrs, smirking cheekily at him. “Though if you ever did leave me for Uhura, you know, I’d get it… if I was few years younger and much lower in rank…”

“Jim, I know you are simply attempting to make me jealous, but I must insist you cease.”

“Fine, sorry…”, Jim chuckles, ruffling his hair a little. “Just having a little fun at your expense… I’m just glad you’re here, honestly. After the way I acted this morning, wouldn’t have been surprised if you gave me the cold shoulder for a while… wouldn’t have blamed you…”

“Vulcans do not hold grudges.”

“… didn’t your dad stop talking to you for eighteen years because you didn’t go to his preferred university?”

“… he would argue that was an entirely logical decision.”

“God, I don’t know Amanda can stand it…”, Jim sighs, shaking his head. “But seriously… thank you. For being here for me.”

“It is no hardship on my part, Jim.”

“Maybe not, but… all of this would be so much more difficult without you, and I need you to know that. And… there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Spock simply raises an eyebrow at him, and waits for him to continue.

“… you asked last night, if I could… share what happened with you. Through the mind meld. And… I think I’m ready to do that now. If you’re still willing…”

“Jim…”, Spock whispers, turning his face towards him so he’s looking directly into his eyes. “… if you are offering such a thing as some kind of apology, I assure you it is not necessary…”

“No, Spock. I… I mean me saying I want to isn’t exactly right, but… I know how much you hate it when I close myself off from you…”

“… you’re human, Jim. I understand your need for privacy…”

“… but this is a thing that affects both of us Spock. And… if it’ll help you to know what exactly went down…”

Spock stares at him a second, before slowly bringing both of his hands to either side of Jim’s face, his fingertips barely touching his skin as he continues to gaze at him.

“Are you sure about this, Jim?”, Spock whispers, his hands shaking slightly, in a way that was barely visible to the human eye. “… you expressed such reluctance before…”

“I’m sure Spock.”, he whispers, closing his eyes and raising one of his hands so that it was now resting against Spock’s. “Just know… you aren’t going to like what you see. It will be… upsetting for you, to see me the way I was, how I acted… please just remember that I love you, and that I’d never…”

“I know this ashayam… please do not think this would change the way I see you.”

Jim gives a stiff nod, screwing his eyes shut even tighter as he feels his breathing become even shallower:

“Okay, just… do it then…”

Instead of proceeding, Spock lowers his hand to his chest and tells him to breathe slowly, in and out, and Jim does so, until his breathing is a lot more even and regular, his heart rate slowing slightly. It is only when Spock is satisfied that he is calm enough that he puts his hands to the side of his face again and kisses him gently.

“Are you ready?”, he whispers, his breath tickling Jim’s nose, who gives a slow nod, doing his best to concentrate on his breathing as he feels a familiar tingle emit from underneath Spock’s fingertips.

They lie next to each other for what seems like a minute from Jim’s perspective, who is watching Spock’s unnaturally still self with some anxiety, scanning his face for any signs of emotion, despite knowing that none will appear.

Suddenly, his eyes flicker open again, the dark orbs blinking at him slowly, his pupils extremely dilated. He lowers his hands from Jim’s face slowly, bringing them down to his shoulders and pulling him into a full body hug, the top of his chin resting against his shoulder.

“Thank you, t’hy’la.”, Spock whispers, stroking his back as he feels Jim start to shake. “Thank you, for sharing that with me…”

“I’m sorry you had to see that…”, Jim chokes out, his breath shuddering slightly. “… I know that must’ve been hard for you…”

“I’m only sorry this happened to you at all, Jim… it was not pleasant to see what your experienced, but I prefer it to not knowing. I… hate to think of you sharing such a burden alone…”

“I just… don’t like the thought of you seeing me that way. Every time you touch me, or look at me…”

“This changes nothing for me, t’hy’la… your trauma does not define you. It didn’t before, and it doesn’t now. You are still the man I admire, who I care for more than anyone… please do not think I see you any differently.”

“I worry sometimes, that my thoughts will become too burdensome for you… I know the inside of my head isn’t always a fun place to be, and it’s a lot more chaotic than yours. A lot of the time I wish I had more control…”

“… you wouldn’t be human otherwise, Jim. I feel extremely privileged that you place such trust in me, that you allow me to see all of you… as I said before, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“… likewise, Spock.”, Jim whispers, pressing his lips to his knuckles, kissing them gently. “… and I promise not to close myself off from you from now on- all transparency from here on out.”

“I am… pleased to hear that, Jim.”, Spock says softly. “Would you… allow me to open the mind meld both ways now? I… would like to feel you, all of you… I missed your presence last night…”

“Of course, Spock.”, Jim smiles, resting his fingers across his face. “I missed you too…”

He can see the man visibly relax, the sides of his mouth turning upwards ever so slightly, and as he holds Jim’s face in his hands, he utters the unnecessary but ritualistic phrase:

 “My mind to your mind…”

And with that, it’s like the barriers separating their physical forms crumble to the ground, their very souls intertwining across the astral plane, where one man began and the other ended impossible to discern.

Once again, they were one, and they remained as such as they drifted into unconsciousness in each other’s arms, losing themselves together.

 *********************************************************************************

The next time Jim is woken from his slumber, it is due to a high-pitched beeping noise.

“Ugh…”, Jim groans, flailing at his bedside table. “Why’d you set the alarm Spock? Not like you’re gonna sleep in…”

“That is not your alarm, Jim.”, Spock murmurs back, his voice rough, like he has also just woken up. “I believe that is your communicator…”

“My communicator?”, Jim says, stares at the other side of the room where the noise is coming from, and indeed, there is his communicator, the light flashing red on his desk. “I thought I put it on silent… should only be ringing for emergencies, or senior Starfleet members…”

“Perhaps there is an emergency?”

“Oh, that would be just perfect…”, Jim mutters sourly, pushing himself up and stumbling towards the other side of the room. “… just one thing after another lately…”, he pauses in his grumbling when he picks up the communicator and notes the caller ID. “Hey, uh… Spock? Looks like it’s Commodore Mendez trying to get in touch…”

“Mendez?”, Spock raises his eyebrow, failing to hide his surprise. “Why would he be trying to contact you? We are lightyears away from Starbase 11, and I did not think you had seen the man in years…”

“I haven’t- it is odd. I’d better answer…”

“Put it on speakerphone, please.”

Jim obliges, and presses the receive button, speaking into the microphone:

“Commodore Mendez? This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise… how may I help you?”

“Captain!”, a very feminine, vaguely familiar voices hisses through the intercom, sounding extremely agitated.

Not Mendez.

“Wait, who is this?”, he frowns, looking over at Spock who just shakes his head to indicate his own bemusement.

“This is Detective Aurora, sir…”

“Aurora?”, Jim exclaims, eyes widening in surprise. “Why are you on Mendez’s line?”

“He’s an old family friend, sir. I came to him looking for help, and he allowed me to use his account to call you… I couldn’t risk using my own, I think it’s currently being monitored…”

“What?”, Jim frowns into the receiver, feeling more confused than ever. “Why would your account be monitored? By who? Are you in danger?”

“Apologies sir, I’m getting ahead of myself… I just needed to contact you, before Starfleet does first thing this morning.”

“What do you mean? Has there been an update on the case? I know Henson was taken into custody yesterday… has he been formally charged yet?”

“Captain…”, Jim hears a hiss of static on the line, possibly Aurora sighing heavily into the mic. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, but… they are dropping your case against Henson. He was told he was free to go late last night, along with a formal apology.”

Jim stares into the receiver, his blood running cold, can’t quite believing what he was hearing.

“Detective, what are you… what do you…”

“I’m so sorry sir, but… currently, Henson is a free man. And my work partner, Dr. T’Vina… she was arrested last night! She’s been accused of… of treason against Starfleet. Ten hours ago they marched into our station and… and they took her! They handcuffed her, right in front of me…”

There’s a shuddering gasp, and Jim swear he can almost see her in front of him, barely holding it together as she holds back her tears. Jim looks over at Spock and he sees the exact same question he has displayed across his usually blank face:

What the hell was going on?

Chapter Text

“Detective, hold on… just… slow down… take a breath…”, Jim says in his most soothing tone as Aurora continues to sniffle down the line. “… just… tell me what T’Vina has been accused of… and how it relates to Henson being let off the hook…”

“Yes… sir…”, Aurora replies shakily, still clearly upset. “… it was all quite sudden, and I didn’t fully understand what she was being accused of until I managed to pin someone down and make them tell me. They’re accusing her of… implanting fake memories, into you specifically, Captain, as a way of fabricating evidence. That she did it as some kind of plot to take down Starfleet from the inside, by framing some of their more high-profile members for serious crimes...”

“Why would they think she’d do that?”, Jim frowns.

“They claim that they have evidence she has ties to some Vulcan supremacy group, one that was causing us some trouble a few years back… I haven’t seen the evidence myself, but my superiors seem convinced by it.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

It sounds like Aurora is taking a deep breath in, then out before replying, her voice suddenly a little steadier and full of conviction:

“Me and Vee… oh, we’ve had our differences over the years, for sure, Captain. We’re about as different as two people can be, but… there’s a reason we’ve worked together for nearly twenty years now... I trust that woman with my life. She’s no more a Vulcan spy than I am! And she’s devoted to her job above all else… she wouldn’t do anything to risk that. No sir, there’s no doubt in my mind she’s being framed… that she’s just some collateral in someone else’s scheme. I don’t know who is out there looking out for Henson, but… they must have some friends in law enforcement, either that or it goes right to the top- I don’t know how they reacted so fast otherwise.”

“Agreed…”, Jim murmurs, rubbing his hand over his forehead, thinking of his visit from Admiral Lawson earlier. “Do you have any suspicions?”

“None presently… I don’t have a lot of information to go off, and my superiors were… quite cagey when I brought the issue up with them. Which is strange, because T’Vina going down for this would have major ramifications for our department- we’ve worked on hundreds of cases involving memory extraction, and if she’s found guilty of fabricating evidence, well… all those cases will have to be re-opened. Some truly sick individuals could walk free, based on a lack of evidence… but whoever made this false accusation against Vee likely doesn’t care, of course…”

“Have you been able to talk to T’Vina since they took her in?”

“No… I think they’ve been questioning her all night. I mean, she’s Vulcan, she’s obviously a tough cookie, but… I hate to think of how they’re treating her. I’ve already tried to file multiple appeals, requests to see the evidence being used against her, to account for her whereabouts on certain dates, but… less than an hour after I sent them, I received a message.”

She pauses, her breathing once again becoming unsteady and slightly laboured.

“Aurora?”, Jim says quietly, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m… fine. Just, still… a little shaken. You’d think after years of being in this job, I’d be less sensitive, but nope…”

“You said you received a message? From whom?”

“It was anonymous… and I did my best to try and trace it, but no success. Whoever sent it clearly knew what they were doing…”

“What did the message say?”

“It was just… photos sir.”, Aurora says, her voice catching slightly. “Pictures of… my home, my husband’s office, our kid’s school, my parent’s house… no words, but the message was pretty damn clear. Someone wanted to let me know… they were watching me, and my family. That they could find us, if they wanted to…”

“Oh god…”, Jim mutters, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “Did you report it?”

“I tried to, but… my message just came back as ‘undelivered’. And when I tried again, same thing, but this time I also got another anonymous message… and this time it was a video. Someone… standing across the street from our house, and they kept slowly zooming in to the window… and I could see my husband getting my kids ready for bed…”

There’s hurried breathing coming through the intercom, and Jim can imagine her doing a full body shudder.

“… I’ve been threatened before Captain, but this was something else, this was so personal... and the fact that someone has been monitoring my Starfleet account… I don’t know who to trust anymore! Vee’s gone now, and she was my ride or die… I just don’t know what to do without her, she was always so much better at keeping a cool head in these kinds of situations…”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright Aurora…”

“I’m so sorry sir, I thought you deserved to hear my side of things… before you hear whatever story Starfleet feeds you in a few hours’ time…”

“Yes, I… quite understand…”, Jim whispers, sitting himself down on his desk chair, suddenly exhausted while Spock moves to stand next to him, concern etched into his features. “… thank you, detective. I do appreciate it… and I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

“I swear to you, Kirk, I will get the bottom of this, I promise. However, it… may take some time. I will need to take precautions, that last message really shook me up, I’m not going to lie…”

“No, detective…”, Jim says firmly, putting on his best captain’s voice. “Your family has been threatened. Stand down. We’ll… deal it with ourselves.”, he says hesitatingly, looking up at Spock who simply raises his eyebrows. “We have people, resources, connections… we’ll sort this out, I promise.”

“But Captain, I can’t just…”

“Detective… that is an order. Keep yourself safe- for your own sake, as well as your loved ones. I don’t want to feel responsible if something happens to any of you.”

A long, heavy sigh emerges from the receiver, slightly crackly and distorted:

“… very well, Captain. Once again, I am sorry this happened. And also, I’m… so sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Jim lets out his own heavy sigh.

“You’ve gone beyond the call of duty, detective… thank you for getting in touch. And… good luck. I hope T’Vina is let out soon- let me know if you need me to speak on her behalf.”

“Thank you, sir. I… also wish you luck. Feel free to get in touch… but if you could contact me through José’s account…”

“Will do, detective. Good night… or good morning, I suppose.”

“Good night, Captain… sorry, for waking you up.”

“It’s quite alright… goodbye detective.”

“Goodbye, Kirk. And… just… sorry. Again.”

And with a click, the transmission is cut off, and the room is left in silence, only the sound of his own heavy breathing and the soft thrum of the ship’s engines remaining. Jim brings his communicator back down against the desk with a heavy thud, his hands shaking slightly, with rage or nerves, it was hard to say. Spock rests his hands against his, doing his best to calm him, but it’s only partially successful.

“Well, Spock…”, Jim lets out a small chuckle, completely devoid of any real humour. “How about that?”

“Indeed, Jim… though I suppose it was not totally unprecedented. It does very much confirm one of Miss Meeriana’s claims…”

“Yes? And which one was that?”

Spock pauses, glancing out towards the window, a far-away look in his eyes as he responds:

“… that corruption has managed to find its way into the heart of Starfleet.”

Chapter Text

Spock had lived amongst humans for decades now, and he liked to think he now had a fairly good grasp now of how non-Vulcans tended to deal with their feelings of anger or frustration, be it through vigorous physical activity or letting out a long stream of profanities.

Jim, however, was a fairly unique humanoid: he had a tendency to start rigorously cleaning when agitated, albeit whilst cursing profusely all the while. Spock was not a psychologist, but if he had to make an educated guess based on all evidence presented, he would say it was Jim’s way of seeking control, when it felt like he had none. Or perhaps it was simply a way to keep his hands busy, lest he use them for more destructive purposes.

“… I swear to god, if the next time I see Henson is him as a free man… I don’t know what I’m going to do… I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from pummelling the bastard, wipe that smug smirk off his face… then kick him where it hurts, and don’t let up… I wouldn’t care if it cost me my damn career, I just want to him to pay…”

Spock raises an eyebrow at Jim as he watches him through the open bathroom door from the bedroom: he is wiping away furiously at the bathroom mirror, so vigorously and with such force, Spock could not help but worry the glass might accidentally crack beneath his fingertips. He has already finished wiping down the shower system and the toilet seat, so presumably he will have to move on to the bedroom soon enough. He himself remains lying down on the bed, fully clothed, PADD in hand, waiting patiently for Jim to burn himself out enough so that they may talk properly.

He estimated it would take another three of four visceral, imaginary scenarios where Jim brutally beats Henson into a near catatonic state.

“… and that Lawson, I know he had something to do with it… why else would that detective have been arrested just a few short hours after he talked to me? Damnit, I should’ve been smarter about it, acted like I was considering his offer, that could’ve brought us more time… Spock, sorry, can you get up? I want to make the bed, thanks…”

He stands up obediently and sits himself down at Jim’s desk, observing him silently as he beats the sheets and pillows into submission, pulling on the corners tightly, all whilst still ranting:

“… and what do they even get out of it? Ruining the integrity of Starfleet, messing with people’s lives, making deals with literal dictators… all for what? More power? A bigger, fancier seat at the table? Men like Henson… they’re just never satisfied, oh no… doesn’t matter if he’s already one of the most powerful men in the galaxy, he needs to feel like he can control people, that they’ll just bend to his will… it’s no wonder he loves the Vallen royals so much, from his perspective they’re living the dream… crushing people under their heel with no consequences, and reaping all the riches from it…”

Once the bed is made, he turns his attention to the wardrobe, folding and refolding his shirts in an agitated manner and wiping down all the bedroom surfaces until all visible dust is eradicated:

“… question is, who can we trust? Lawson seemed pretty sure the admiralty would be on his side about letting them investigate my case internally… what if it’s most of them? What then? We’ve already seen that they can successfully put away people for fabricated crimes… and how long has this been going on for? A few months? Years? And what if it’s infected every area of Starfleet? My own crew, even? Of course, I trust my inner circle, but there are hundreds of people aboard this ship… who’s to say they didn’t assign someone to this very mission, so they can keep a close eye on us, and report back to headquarters? Maybe they’ve been monitoring our communications channels since the start of the mission! I swear to god, I hate feeling like this, this sense of paranoia… I joined Starfleet because I believed in what they stood for, I made it my life’s work… and those cretins are poisoning it, bringing the whole organisation down to their level…”

Jim is now stood in the centre of the room, red-faced with a visible vein popping out of his forehead, and his eyes are darting around, looking for anything else to occupy himself with, but unfortunately, the room is now spotless. It occurs to Spock that their assigned Yeoman will have an easy time of it this morning- Jim had even taken the time to dust down the light features.

Observing that Jim is still nowhere near calm, Spock realises he’ll have to take initiative:

“T’hy’la… perhaps you should lay down a minute, collect yourself…”

“No, Spock!”, Jim snaps, as he begins to pace furiously around the room, hands stuffed into his pockets. “I know you mean well, but I’m just not capable of that right now! I’m too wound up! I just feel so… so… powerless. I just want to hit something, anything… pretend it’s Henson’s smug little face… if I ever see him in the same room again, I swear to god, he won’t be leaving it with all his faculties intact, that’s for sure… Spock, what are you doing?”

“Booking ourselves a sparring room in the gym.,” Spock says calmly, running his stylus over his PADD with a flourish. “You did say you needed to hit something…”

Jim covers his face with his hands and groans.

“Spock, no, I wasn’t being serious!”

“Perhaps not… but I think it will be helpful. We need to make a plan; your anger is greatly and affecting your cognitive abilities, and vigorous exercise is a proven relaxant….”

“Plan? What plan?”

“You told the detective that we will deal with this situation ‘ourselves’… and that will take a great deal of planning on our parts, and we don’t have time to waste…”

“I just told her that so she’d back off- no point in putting herself and her family in danger for my sake. I don’t actually have any ideas of my own…”

“Not yet, Jim. I have noticed that some of your more ingenious solutions have occurred mid-fight in the past…”

“Spock, I’m not facing off a Gorn in combat here… we’re dealing with a powerful and potentially corrupt organisation, our own employers…”

Spock nods sagely.

“I see… my mistake- I just thought you weren’t the type to be scared off by a challenge, Jim. It appears my judgment was off… still, there is no shame in giving up, is there? No shame in letting them win…”

Jim scowls at him- he knows Spock is deliberately trying to goad him, but goddamnit if it wasn’t working.

“Bones said I was supposed to rest today… and your shift starts in an hour…”

“The doctor should approve of exercise from both a mental and physical health perspective… and you got adequate rest last night, albeit with an early wake-up call. And I have already informed Commander Scott that he will be overseeing the bridge today…”

 “Poor Scotty…”, Jim mutters, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. “He hates beings in charge… I definitely owe him a drink or two after this week…”

“Indeed, Jim. Now, please… go get changed. The sparring room is booked for the next two hours.”

**********************************************************************************

“Spock, this is ridiculous…”

“Perhaps, Jim. Now… hit the bag.”

He groans but complies and takes a swing at the punching bag Spock is currently holding, allowing himself to warm up a little before quickening his pace, the jabs coming faster and harder, whilst Spock just stands there like a statue, arms clasped around the bag, completely unmoveable. For about two minutes, neither man speaks, the only sounds in the room being Jim’s grunts and the satisfying thwacks his fists make against the bag.

Spock is the first one to break the silence:

“You are already slowing down…”

“Shut up.,” Jim growls, but he steps it up regardless, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. “It’s been… a while... couldn’t work out all weekend… busy with damn talks…”

“It was not a criticism, merely an observation…,” Spock says cooly, regarding him carefully. “I would say another ten minutes, then a short break… unless you wish to wish to finish now, of course…”

Jim just rolls his eyes at him, and continues jabbing at the bag, playing with his pace and the force of each collision a little.

“What I don’t… get…,” Jim punches hard, his breathing getting more laboured now. “… is how they can just… drop the… case like that. I mean… we gave them the blood report. They know… I was drugged… why not… follow up…?”

“I believe they will, Jim… just not against Henson. They will likely try to pin this on an outsider, this ‘Vulcan supremacy group’ they claim that Dr. T’Vina is a member of…”

“Bastards…,” Jim growls, his fists flying now while Spock just gazes on impassively. “Honestly that story… makes me think… the Vallen royals are involved… in the cover-up. They’ve made it clear… they’re not… a fan of Vulcans…”

“That is only a theory, Jim… we have no evidence to substantiate such a claim. We should concentrate on Henson…”

“But the… whole reason… the admiralty are protecting… Henson…,” Jim grimaces as he feels his fists start to get more tender, even underneath his bandage wraps. “… is because… of the… Vallen royals. Without the… alliance… they would have… no reason to… protect him…”

“They maybe still would Jim- after all, a Starfleet admiral being convicted of something so distasteful would be quite the controversary…”

“But it’s a controversy they could…  live with.,” Jim inhales and exhales deeply, trying to keep his breathing under control before returning to his jabbing. “This though… brink of war in the outer galaxies… weapons deal… I could see them feeling like they’re being… backed into a corner. Doesn’t make it… right… but… there it is.”

“I still do not think it would be advisable to go after the royals… they hold too much power. Henson would be a much easier target…”

“But how would we touch him, Spock?!,” Jim snarls, ignoring the pain coming from his bruised knuckles as the hits come harder and faster. “We’ve already caught him red-handed… and he still managed to slip out of it! Unless we…,” Jim pauses a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “… unless we… convict him of a separate crime, something that’s nothing to do with the Vallens…”

“You have stopped, Jim.,” Spock points out dryly, and Jim quickly goes back to punching. “If I am understanding you correctly… you wish for us to investigate the admiral ourselves, to find proof of other past misdeeds? Because then the admiralty will be under no obligation to protect him?”

“Exactly…”, Jim winces, twisting out his shoulder a little as it twinges.

“That is assuming Henson does not have blackmail material on the other members of the admiralty… a man like that likely keeps himself safe that way…”

“Then we’ll find out their dirty secrets too! Bring as many down as we can…”

“And how will we go about such an investigation, Jim? We both have our duties to the Enterprise, and we know now that we cannot trust Starfleet law enforcements… we could hire a private investigator, but there are few who would risk their professional careers in such a way…”

“What about someone with no career? Or name, even? Someone who would be crazy enough to take this job on, and has nothing to lose?”

Spock frowns at him, clearly confused.

“Who do you refer to?”

“The Bajoran we met over on Cermat 7… Meeriana’s friend… the one who calls himself ‘Kol’…”

Spock raises a sceptical eyebrow.

“Hardly a trustworthy individual… also, you’ve stopped again, Jim…”

“Sorry, got distracted…,” Jim mutters, pushing his sweaty fringe out of his face before getting to work. “Look, maybe we don’t know him… but Meeriana trusts him, and I’m pretty sure I can trust her…”

“She has admitted she has made bad judgments in the past…”

“Sure, everyone can on occasion! Even you, even if you won’t admit it…”

“I will not, because that is not true…”

“Whatever… point is… if he’s as good as she claims he is… then he might be our in. He claims he has contacts in Starfleet? Then let’s make use of them. He claims there’s evidence of corruption? He can point us to the sources…”

“I’m sure if he had substantial proof, he would have already used it…”

“Perhaps so… but then maybe we should be the ones to obtain such evidence then? Or someone else in Starfleet, someone we know we can trust…”

“Most of our trusted circle works on the Enterprise, Jim.”

“But not all! I mean, you must know people, you’ve been working with Starfleet far longer than I have… is there anyone you can personally vouch for, outside of our crew?”

Spock considers this question a moment, his face pondering as Jim keep bringing his fists down on the bag. Suddenly, his expression clears, a look of realisation on his face:

“Una.,” he breathes, wide-eyed.

“Who?” Jim frowns, stretching out his other shoulder which was now giving him grief.

“Admiral Una Chin-Riley… or as you may know her, Number One- she was Captain Pike’s first officer when I served under him on the Enterprise.”

“Oh!” Jim widens his eyes at him, suddenly distracted from the aching in his muscles. “I’d heard of Admiral Chin-Riley, but I didn’t realise… she was the same person as… Number One. I mean… you know an actual admiral Spock?! Personally? How did I not realise this?! I’ve been inside your head!”

“In all honesty, Jim, I have not thought of Una in years now… we have not kept in touch since the start of the mission, as we have both been busy with our respective duties… she is a woman dedicated to her work, and quite admirably so. However, she was… the closest thing I could call a friend before meeting you…”

“Should I be jealous, Spock?” Jim smirks, before landing another well-aimed jab at the bag.

“I see no reason to be… there was never any romantic feelings on either side, and it would’ve been inappropriate regardless, as she was my superior…”

“Oh, how times have changed…”

“We are getting off the subject, Jim.”

“Right, right, sorry… so, you two worked together, that’s how you came to be friends?”

“Indeed, but it was more than that… in the early years of my career, I often struggled when interacting with my human colleagues, and people either found my alien nature to be distasteful or a source of amusement. Una was… somewhat similar. She was often referred to as a robot behind people’s backs, and her lack of performative emotion seemed to read as ‘icy’ to her colleagues… some even joked that she must be secretly Vulcan, that me and her were cousins… she did not seem that offended, but she also made no attempt to endear herself to the rest of the crew... Captain Pike very much took up the more personable aspect of their partnership.”

“… sounds familiar…”

“Anyway… neither me or ever sought out companionship with each other in the casual sense… however, we used to spend hours and hours in the same room together, going over reports, only talking when strictly necessary…”, Spock pauses, a thoughtful look on his face. “It was… rather wonderful. Spending much of my working hours being forced to engage in meaningless conversations with colleagues was often quite… draining for me, especially in the early days. It was pleasant to have someone who… just allowed me to be, who did not question my entire way of being… and I would theorise she might have felt similar, though she was never an easy woman to get a read on.”

“Hmmm… mysterious… is that your type when it comes to women, Spock?”

“Hit the bag, Jim.”

Obediently, Jim gets back to it, hoping he isn’t as red as he feels, or as sweaty.

“Okay, so, sounds like a nice lady… but are you sure she’s trustworthy? I mean, it has been years since you’ve seen her, and people can change a lot in that time…”

“She is absolutely trustworthy, Jim.”, Spock says firmly, a resolute look on his face. “… time would not change her so fundamentally… and I am an excellent judge of character, as you know…”

“I dunno about that Spock… you do seem to enjoy my company.,” Jim wheezes, wiping at his sweaty forehead before getting back into a fighting stance. “But in all seriousness… do you think she’d be willing to help us, if we asked? I know doing so would put her job on the line…”

“It would depend on what ‘help’ we would be asking of her, Jim…”

“Like… if she has any suspicions about who’s involved in dirty dealings within the admiralty, or anyone else below them… if she can get us access to places, documents, people we couldn’t get to otherwise…”

“That is quite vague, Captain…”

“Yes, well, maybe if you got Kol to narrow down the search for you…”

“Now, see, him I do not trust…”

“Because he’s a wanted criminal? Or, because you thought he was flirting with me at the restaurant?” Jim grins mischievously, enjoying the way Spock’s mouth twitches ever so slightly.

“… the former… though, I will confess I do find his general demeanour to be quite… juvenile. Even if his intentions are good, I do not trust him to navigate such a sensitive situation… cautiously or with the degree of seriousness it deserves…”

“Meeriana said he’s been pretty good at staying under the radar…”

“For how long though? The man looks to be no more than twenty-five years in age… he cannot have been in this line of work for more than a few years…”

“Maybe he started early? In his teens? Look, I know you don’t like it Spock, but he has access to police records and presumably many trusted contacts within Starfleet… he might be our best shot at this point. Unless you have any better ideas?”

Spock just stares forward, blank-faced, clearly not in agreement but also not in the mood to argue further. He holds up a hand and Jim immediately ceases his hurried movements, leaning down on his knees and breathing heavily, a little embarrassed by how much the simple work-out had taken out of him- maybe he was still feeling the effects of Bones’s sleeping drug? Regardless, he really shouldn’t be this out of breath.

“Please stretch and hydrate, Captain… then we shall continue your workout. I believe you are sufficiently warmed up now…”

“For what, Spock?”, Jim mutters, wiping at his damp face with a clean towel whilst also taking heavy swigs from his water bottle.

“For sparring, of course…”, Spock calls over his shoulder, as he removes his own shirt and starts doing chin-ups on a nearby bar. “… unless you are too tired already…”

“… not tired, Spock… just don’t know if I’m in the mood to get thrown across the room by you this early in the morning…”

“I have faith in you, t’hy’la… you almost won our last match…”

“God, if you hadn’t done that nerve pinch…”

“It is technically not against the rules, Jim.”

“Only because the people who wrote the rules didn’t account for Vulcans…”

“If you had protected your neck, you would not have lost.”

“Yeah, yeah…”, Jim sighs, waving his hand dismissively. “So, what we doing here? Best of three?”

“That would seem appropriate.”, Spock says calmly, casually dropping himself from the bar, and begins his leg exercises. “Terran wrestling rules, or Vulcan?”

“… Vulcan. I need to be able to fight a little dirty if I’m going to stand a chance…”

“Vulcans do not ‘fight dirty’…”

“Yes, well, you guys allow a lot of moves that would be considered ‘illegal’ by human standards… and I’m okay with getting a little roughed up, if you are?”

“You think you are capable of ‘roughing me up’, Captain? I find such a thing unlikely…”

Jim just laughs at that, removing his shirt before walking over to the sparring area of the room. He turns around and raises his fists at Spock, waggling his eyebrows as he did so.

“Ready whenever you are, Commander…”

The side of Spock’s mouth twitches a little in response, and soon he is facing Jim, also assuming the defensive position, his eyes dark and intense:

“Ready Captain…”

And with that, the two men start dancing around each other, each looking for an opening- the Vulcan form of wrestling allowed for much more freedom of movement, but the goal was very much the same: to pin down their opponent for at least two seconds, by any means necessary.

Jim remembered the early days of the mission, when he and Spock were barely amiable colleagues: he would often ask his first officer to join him in the gym for a sparring match, and every time without fail, he would refuse, often citing work reasons for why he could not join him. His pestering had become very insistent over time, as he had often noticed Spock’s exceptionally clean, agile fighting style on their missions together, and was quite keen to learn from him, for his own benefit if nothing else. There was little in the archives about Vulcan forms of hand-to-hand combat, secretive a society as they were, and Jim was always desperate to obtain new knowledge, and better his own combat skills.

Spock had eventually informed him that it was illogical to seek him as a sparring partner, since there was no feasible way for a human to beat a Vulcan in hand-to-hand combat, due to their superior strength, faster reaction times and strategic, logical thinking. Jim had simply laughed and told him to prove it.

And he had- the first time they sparred together, Spock had pinned him down to the mat over twenty times in less than ten minutes, and several of those times, had thrown him to the ground hard. Jim suspected his roughness was his way of making sure the captain ceased his requests to spar with him in future, knowing now it was impossible to best him, and that he would only embarrass himself in front of his crew if he repeated such actions.

But he had not stopped- if anything he started asking more, almost as often as he put in his requests to play chess together. For Jim, it was thrilling to be faced with such a challenge- an opponent who had him bested in every perceivable way, but also one he could trust not to lose control or accidentally hurt him, his control was so good. For a while, he made little progress in his fights against Spock, being easily outmanoeuvred by his first officer time and time again, who simply gave him a weary look as he slammed him down into the mat, and caught his flailing limbs with his hands, pinning him, all while people around them tittered nervously at the sight of their captain being thrown around the wrestling mats like a ragdoll.

But then, he had slowly began making headway- he started applying his chess-playing style to their fights, throwing out illogical moves that would often distract and confuse Spock, however briefly. Spock was a quick learner, and simply did his best to adapt to his illogical behaviour, but as the months went by, the time it took for him to pin Jim to the ground did became substantially longer in duration, and he even managed to get a few bruising hits in before he was inevitably ceremoniously thrown onto his back and pinned. Spock had always insisted that they wrestle in the Vulcan manner, so Jim was in his rights to hit him in his more sensitive or vulnerable areas, such as his throat, face or shins, but his opportunity to take advantage were few and far between- Spock had excellent defence and he was nimble on his feet, his captain’s fists easily avoided.

He had secretly been impressed that the captain was able to touch him at all during his fights, but fully expected his progress to stop there, and that he would soon go back to wrestling to his human crewmembers of much more comparative strength.

But Jim kept asking to spar with him, and instead of his moves becoming more precise and considered like Spock had expected, they got somehow wilder and more outlandish, becoming almost impossible to predict where he was coming from next. He also did not miss the way Jim became a lot more adept at dodging his blows, how his fists connected with Spock’s body more and more often, leaving him with green marks all over his body, to the had to obtain his own dermal regenerator, rather than relying on Dr McCoy twice a week for healing.

And then, one year into the mission, Jim had finally managed it.

Spock had just been about to grab him by the waist, and throw him to the ground as per usual, when suddenly Jim’s fist started flying towards the right side of his face, which he caught easily. However, he’d somehow missed his foot flying forwards, colliding in the middle of the shin perfectly, making him fold over in pain. Jim had taken advantage of the momentary distraction, his free fist striking Spock against the chin, with a force that would’ve broken a regular human’s jaw. For Spock, there was simply a bloom of agony that caused his grip on Jim’s left fist to loosen, allowing him to get it free- he then drew it back and punched him hard in the throat. Spock had stumbled back, coughing, as Jim had rushed forward and grabbed him by his legs, causing him to lose balance and fall backwards to the ground, the captain still clutching him below the waist. Spock had been in such shock, he had not even aware of his captain counting to two, hand pressed against his throat, until suddenly his vision is suddenly taken up by Jim’s grinning, flushed face, his wavy hair damp with sweat, hands placed either side of his head.

“Oh my god!” he had laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did that just happen?! Did I actually get you?!”

“I... believe you did, Captain.,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow as he continued to lay there. “Although I could’ve easily thrown you off just now, if I hadn’t been…”

“Surprised?” Jim had grinned at him, pushing himself to his feet wobbly. “Wouldn’t blame you… I surprised myself there…”

He had offered his hand to him, which Spock had not taken, instead choosing to simply stand himself up, while Jim had awkwardly wiped his hand on his trousers, chastising himself for forgetting Spock did not like to be touched outside the context of combat. Jim had asked if he wanted to go another round, and Spock had answered in the affirmative, facing him with a determined glint in his eye.

He had swiftly won the next round, but the final one after that had been close- too close for Spock’s comfort.

He spent the next few months studying Jim’s chaotic style, learning how best to react to his illogical moves, and very soon he was back on his usual winning streak. But Jim soon took note of the changes in his fighting style and had adapted accordingly, his moves becoming more focussed and precise, and soon he was able to score a victory against Spock every ten rounds or so.

They had gone back and forth like that over the last four years, learning from each other, chaos verses order, both competitive and stubborn. Thanks to his training with Spock, there were few humans who could pose much of a challenge for Jim in hand-to-hand combat, so his Vulcan first officer had become his primary sparring partner. He ended up enjoying their sparring sessions together almost as much as their chess games.

Almost. At least chess didn’t leave you with ungodly bruising…

Presently, the two men continued to circle each other, fists raised, Jim very much aware if Spock wanted to rush at him and wrestle him to the ground right now, he very much could.

But clearly, he had other things on his mind…

“So, you and… Una…,” Jim says slowly, before quickly dodging out of the way when Spock takes a swipe at him. He responds by kicking him in the back of the leg, causing him to stumble. “So what’s our plan there? You get in contact with her, see if she’s willing to help out, get the Bajoran spy involved if necessary…”

“I would say so…,” Spock suddenly rushes forward, and Jim only just jumps out of the way this time. “… Captain. Unless you have any other ideas…”

“I think it’s a fine plan… Commander.,” Jim smirks at him, as he manages to duck and dodge once again. “It’s just… I think we still need to deal with issue of the Vallen royals, you know? If there’s any truth to Lawson’s claim that they’ll back out of the alliance deal at the first sign of any perceived offence, well… we need some leverage against them as well. Otherwise Starfleet may still feel obliged to protect Henson, and keep this case buried…”

“I do not see how…”, Spock pauses, as he slices the air in front of him, Jim’s neck narrowing avoiding his grasp. “… we would be able to achieve such a thing. We are due to leave this planet in just a few short days, and we have no contacts on Vallen…”

“We don’t. But Meeriana does… ah!” Jim yells out as he pretends to lose his footing, and Spock rushes forward, ready to take advantage of the opening, only for Jim to jump up and strike him directly in the middle of his throat. While Spock is distracted by the pain, he grabs his leg, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground strangely ungracefully. He tries to get up, but Jim has his arm pressed tightly against his windpipe, and his two seconds are quickly up.

“I believe that first round goes to me, Mr. Spock.,” Jim chuckles, still lying on top of him, running his hand across his chest. “Losing your touch a little, are you?”

“… you seem fairly sure I did not allow you to win that one, Captain…”

“Did you?” Jim says, smirking when Spock does not answer. “Thought so… ready to go another round?”

“Yes.,” Spock nods, standing himself up quickly, walking over to the other side of the sparring mat, once again assuming the fighting position. “You were talking about Miss Meeriana…”

“Trying to distract me, Spock?,” Jim grins over at him, walking over to is side and also assuming the position. “But yes, I was… she said there were still some remaining P.O.V members living on Vallen…”

“Eleven, sir… hardly enough to intimidate a powerful dictatorship.,” Spock says solemnly, nodding over at him. “Ready whenever you are…”

“Ready!”

And with, Spock rushes forward at him, full-power, and it takes everything in Jim to avoid his fast, powerful swings this time, only able to get a few ineffective hits on Spock before the Vulcan is able to grip him by the arm, and kick his legs out from under his feet. He throws his heavy body on top of him, pinning him down easily as he counts to two.

“Second round goes to me, Jim…,” Spock nods, staring blankly down at him, but Jim can see the satisfied glint in his eye.

“Sure I didn’t let you win that one, Spock?” Jim smiles, struggling to breathe a little under the weight of him.

“No doubt in my mind, sir.”

“Yeah, yeah…,” Jim scoffs, before pushing at his shoulders. “Now get off me! You’re crushing my ribs here…”

Spock swiftly pushes himself back up and offers his hand to Jim who takes it gratefully, enjoying the way he pulls him up easily, like he weighs nothing. The two men silently walk to opposite ends of the mat once more and assume the position.

“I know Meeriana said P.O.V’s membership numbers were limited…”, Jim says, casually stretching out his shoulder a bit, where he feels a slight twinge. “… but surely, it’s about quality over quantity when it comes to informants? Meeriana said she used to work as a palace guard… perhaps she still has some contacts working directly for the royals? Or at least in close proximity to them…”

“That would seem… unlikely, Jim.”, Spock frowns over at him, his body still rigid and unmoving. “And even if she did have contacts within the palace… we have no way of knowing we can trust them.”

“Maybe not… but surely it is a risk worth taking? It’s an open secret that all the royals are involved in some dirty dealings… the hard part is obtaining irrefutable proof of wrongdoing. They’re powerful people, but they’re not entirely above answering to intergalactic law…”

“To be clear, you’re suggesting we obtain blackmail material, Captain?”

“That is precisely what I’m saying Mr. Spock… look, I don’t like it any more than you do, but… I think it’s the only language these people speak. They have no integrity otherwise…”

“Does it not occur to you that the P.O.V have already attempted to do similar in recent years, and have had nothing to show for it? Why do you that would change now?”

“Because…”, Jim says slowly, raising his fists a little. “… of this second round of talks the princess and her husband have arranged… the ones she has specifically requested I attend…”

Spock furrows his eyebrows, clearly unhappy about where he is heading with this.

“It’s like Meeriana said… the princess clearly craves my attention. If I can just act like I… reciprocate such attention, I can probably get access to parts of the palace other people can’t…”

“No, Jim.,” Spock says firmly, his eyes darkening as he raises his own fists. “I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to put yourself in such danger… or to put yourself in such a compromising situation with that… that… woman…”

“Okay, fine, maybe it wasn’t the best idea, Spock…”, Jim admits, looking down at his feet as he widens his stance. “But still, I think we should contact Meeriana, as well as Kol, about all this… it may be a long shot, but clearly a lot of Starfleet is compromised in some capacity. If we’re going to have any chance of taking these people down a notch, we need get some outsiders involved…”

“I do not disagree with you on that point, Jim… I simply do not want you putting herself in unnecessary danger.”

“I understand, Spock.”, Jim mutters, before raising his eyebrows at him. “Ready to start punching again?”

“… yes.”

And with that the two men run at each other, Jim on the defensive, while Spock is on the attack. Jim manages to kick him between the legs, but Spock quickly recovers and retaliates by shoving him in the chest, causing Jim to fall backwards clumsily. However, just as Spock is about to pin him, he rolls out of the way and runs back to the other side of the sparring mat, Spock on his tail.

“So… overall… we’re… agreed… then?”, Jim gasps out, dodging in and out, trying to avoid Spock’s blows. “You... talk… to… Admiral Una… and I… send a message to Meeriana, let her know what’s happening… and… see where we go from there? Ah!”, he suddenly yelps, as Spock suddenly makes contact, and he’s flung to the other side of the room once again, only barely managing to stop himself from losing his balance. He manages to clip Spock across the jaw as he approaches, and takes advantage of his open stance to bring his fist back, ready to punch him directly in the stomach…

… but instead Spock easily catches his fist, and holds it there, staring forward at him unblinking.

“T’hy’la…,” he whispers, Jim’s fist shaking in his hand. “… you must understand… if it was discovered we were conspiring with such individuals, against the wishes of Starfleet, with the intention of sullying some of their more senior officials… the consequences will be disastrous. We could very well face prison time, be sent to a penal colony… and that is if we are lucky. You are well aware of the substantiated rumours about the Vallen royal family and the barbaric ways they treat their enemies…”

“So, what, Spock?” Jim hisses, gritting his teeth. “We do nothing?! Look, if you don’t want to get involved, go right ahead, but I am quite frankly tired of being used…”

“You misunderstand me, Jim.,” Spock says quietly, still holding his fist. “I am not saying we do not proceed with this plan… just that we must be careful not to get caught.”  

Jim stares at him a moment, breathing heavily, his eyes large and slightly glassy. Then suddenly, a large smile spreads across his face, and he uses his free hand to grab at Spock’s face and pull him into a kiss, and Spock happily grabs him by both sides of the face…

… only for Jim to take advantage, and kick out his legs from underneath him, causing both of them to fall to the floor, Jim lying on top of him, his arm against his neck, breathing heavily.

“… one… two…,” Jim gasps out, his chest heaving against Spock’s as he catches his breath. “I win!”

“… I was not trying towards the end there, Captain, you are well aware of that…”

“Whatever, it counts.”

“… and I fairly certain distracting your opponent in such a manner is considered an illegal move in most cultures…”

“Show me the rulebook, Spock. Show me the rulebook…,” Jim laughs, capturing his lips in a kiss again. They lay like that for a while, hands lazily running up and down each other’s bodies, their mouths moving together, until Jim suddenly draws back, his eyes slightly hooded as he stares down at him.

“Thank you for this, by the way…,” Jim whispers softly, running a thumb over his cheek. “This was… this was great.”

“I am… pleased you enjoyed it.,” Spock whispers back, running his hands up and down his arms. “... am I right in assuming you are feeling much calmer now?”

“Yes.,” Jim smiles, looking down at him, before suddenly grimacing as Spock accidentally runs his hands over a particularly sensitive area of bruising. He shakes his head when he sees the concerned look on Spock’s face. “I’m fine. Just a little tender still…”

“Do you need to report to Dr McCoy?”

“I think we both do…,” Jim mutters, his eyes wandering down to Spock’s neck when some dark green bruises are forming. “We’ve both done quite the number on each other… besides, wouldn’t hurt to bring Bones up to speed on our situation...”

“He won’t be pleased to be woken so early.”

“Believe me, Spock… I’ve woken him up for much worse reasons. At least this one doesn't involve tribbles...”

Chapter Text

“You two nitwits make my job infinitely more difficult- you know that, right?”, Bones grumbles, applying the dermal regenerator to the side of Spock’s face, rubbing at his own face blearily.

Spock simply raises his eyebrow at him.

“You are utilising unnecessary hyperbole, doctor… significantly more difficult would be more apt…”

“Oh, shut up!”, Bones growls, finishing up the last of his bruising. “Want to tell the logical reason you and the captain have for beating the shit out of each other at this ungodly hour?”

“Stress relief, doctor… we received unfortunate news this morning regarding the captain’s case against Admiral Henson…”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“They’re dropping the case, Bones.”, Jim says shortly, putting his shirt back over his head. “Henson’s a free man…”

“What?!”, Bones gapes, his eyes widening. “What the hell happened? I though the evidence was... irrefutable… what’s their reasoning?!”

“Long story…”, Jim grimaces, patting the space next to him on the medical table. “You might want to sit down for this one…”

*****************************************************************************************

“So what I’m hearing is… we leave you two to your own devices for a few hours, and you go get yourselves involved with a terrorist organisation?”

“… I think they prefer to call themselves ‘freedom fighters’, or a grassroots movement…”

“Yes, well, tell that to a judge, Kirk.”, Bones mutters angrily, rolling his eyes at him. “Look, I don’t like these royals any more than you do, but it’s probably better for your own health to stay on their good side… we’ll just make a report through the official Starfleet channels, let them know their own law enforcement officials are being threatened…”

“All our ‘official channels’ have been potentially compromised doctor…”, Spock says dispassionately. “… if the admiralty themselves are involved in perverting the course of justice, it stands to reason that such corruption has fed into other sectors of Starfleet. We have already attempted to report the incident through conventional methods, and this has led to the arrest of a woman who is, most likely, innocent of the claims made against her. If Jim did try to get this case re-opened, his own role as a captain within Starfleet may be threatened…”

“But that is all speculation, Mr. Spock!”, Bones points out, crossing his arms across his chest. “Sure, there may be a few rotten apples, but that doesn’t mean you should throw out the baby with the bathwater… the majority of Starfleet is still good people, you know this. If there are some corrupt individuals in there, we flush them out, handle our own…”

“… but you must admit, Bones…”, Jim frowns over at his friend, scratching the side of his face. “… this whole alliance treaty with the Vallens… it’s odd, is it not? The Starfleet I joined all those years ago would never try to join forces with such a ruthless dictatorship, no matter what resources they had access to… not saying I’ve agreed with every single order we’ve ever gotten from top brass over the years, but there is something decidedly… different, in the air recently. They threatened me with disciplinary action just for voicing my misgivings about this whole alliance, for god’s sake…”

“Jim, I’m not saying your concerns aren’t valid.”, Bones says, putting up his hand. “I’m just saying the answer isn’t colluding with criminals… you know what they’ll do to you, both of you, if they found out you were working against Starfleet?”

“I assure you, we have considered that, doctor.”, Spock nods slowly, standing over in the corner, hands behind his back. “And me and the captain can assure you we will proceed with the utmost discretion…”

“… and why do I highly doubt that Mr. Spock? Combined, you two are about as subtle as a jackhammer…”

“Your lack of faith in your captain and first officer is most discouraging, doctor…”

“Once again… shut up!”, Bones groans, rubbing at his temples. “Christ, it’s too early for all this… can’t you two see how insane this plan is?!”

“We can, Bones…”, Jim sighs, putting a hand on his shoulder. “… but you must admit… a situation as insane as this probably requires an insane solution. I’m not saying you have to approve of it, but… we would appreciate your help, if it was ever needed.”

“Jim…”, Bones just shakes his head at him. “… you know I’ve always got your back, but… I do ask that you keep me out of this as much as you can. My friendship has limits, and one of those limits is going to prison as a result of your idiotic decisions…”

“Damn Bones…”, Jim whistles. “Spock is right… your lack of faith in us is most discouraging…”

“Shut up, Kirk… now, I’ve made my feelings clear on this little hairbrained scheme you two are hatching up, and even if my words do nothing to discourage you… I hope you keep them in mind. We’re four years into this mission, we’ve been pretty damn successful so far… let’s not do anything to jeopardise it, alright?”

“Got it, Bones…”, Jim says, giving him a sarcastic thumbs up. “Don’t get arrested, don’t jeopardise the mission, be home in time for supper…”

“… and stop waking your doctor up at the crack of dawn!”, Bones snaps, shoving his dermal regenerator back into his bag. “… now, please refrain from beating the shit out of each other for another week, got it?! I don’t get paid enough for overtime…”

*****************************************************************************************

Meeriana picks up almost immediately after he gets through the initial answerphone message, her tone fake and cheery:

“Hello, Tony’s Terran Cuisine is no longer registered at this address. If you would like to make a booking, please call…”

“Meeriana, it’s me… Jim.”

“Oh, Captain Kirk!”, she exclaims, quickly switching back to her usual husky tone. “… I’ll admit, I’m surprised… I didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon. Has something happened…”

“Yes.”, Jim mutters, drumming his fingers on the desk. “I admit, when we first talked, I was sceptical of your claim about corruption within Starfleet… but now I’ve seen it for myself, there’s no denying it. And I have a pretty good feeling the royals are also involved… are you sure this a safe line, by the way? My communication officer gave me access to one of our burner accounts.”

“Fairly certain, Captain- it hasn’t given me any trouble yet.”

“Okay, good enough… Meeriana, the princess has invited me to a second round of alliance talks this week, they’re wanting to renegotiate the initial agreement… and the talks will be once again taking place at the palace. You said you used to be part of the palace guard, correct?”

“Um… yes? But not for years now…”

“But you still remember the layout of the palace, correct?”

“Sure, like the back of my hand… but what does that have to do with…”

“I am looking to obtain compromising evidence that can be used against the royals… some decent blackmail material, to be frank… if I can ask my people to provide a distraction during these talks, I can maybe have a look around some of the rooms, see if I can break into some confidential archives… I’m not exactly sure, to be honest, but I thought you might be able to point me in the right direction? You’ve managed to air out the family’s dirty laundry in the past… where’s the best place to start looking?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and Jim is initially worried he’s lost the connection, but then Meeriana’s voice comes through, a hint of amusement in her tone:

“May I remind you captain, the last time we met, you said you weren’t going to go around picking locks or anything… you’ve certainly changed your tune…”

“Yes, well, I might not have to go around ‘picking locks’… you said you’re still in touch with some P.O.V members living on Vallen? Tell me, do any of them still work in the palace? And do any of them have high enough levels of security clearance to get me into some more restricted areas?”

There’s another pause, the only sounds coming through being static and Meeriana’s own heavy breathing before she finally replies:

“Captain Kirk, you have to understand… these are my people. If they were revealed to be rebel traitors because of me, well… I don’t think I could live with myself…”

“So you do have members working in the palace?”

More silence is her only answer. Jim sighs into the communicator:

“Look, Meeriana, I understand your anxieties… if you do not want to get your people involved, that’s fine, I’ll try to get around on my own, but… if you could offer the help, I would appreciate it. I’m kind of going in blind here…”

“There’s only one member who still works in the palace.”, Meeriana says stiffly, and he can almost picture her pained expression. “A fellow member of the guard… no one of high ranking, but they should be able to guide you through the palace without raising too much suspicion. However, their reach is limited, you must understand…”

“Understood.”, Jim nods, humming quietly to himself. “… so my people raise a distraction, and this guard gets me wherever I need to go? Do you think your contact will be willing to work with me?”

“… if I told them to, yes Captain. They are… one of our most dedicated members, and one of the few who remains in regular contact with me. So many turned against me for what I did, but they… never blamed me. I don’t know why, it’s not like I deserve that kind of loyalty… but I appreciate it all the same. Please promise me Captain, that they will come to no harm…”

“I promise, Meeriana. Even if it’s at the cost of myself.”, Jim says firmly. “This is my idiotic attempt at espionage, I should be the only one that goes down for it…”

“Can’t be any worse than my attempts sir…”, Meeriana chuckles softly. “Can I ask, sir… what changed your mind? You seemed… fairly reluctant to get directly involved, last time we spoke…”

“I got a reality check.”, Jim says grimly, Lawson’s impassive yet condescending face flitting through his mind. “I can’t just walk away from this now… tell me, could we meet in person today or tomorrow? I want to get an idea of the palace layout, where the guards are placed, how to avoid cameras… it would be easier face-to-face.”

Another weighted pause before she replies:

“I… I suppose… I mean, if you think it is necessary…”

Jim frowns down at the receiver- there was a troubled tone to her voice he did not like.

“Meeriana, is everything… alright?”

“Yes sir…”

“Please be honest with me- if we’re going to be working together, I need full transparency.”

Another heavy sigh.

“It’s nothing, Kirk, it’s just… well, Kol went off on an assignment not long after our initial meeting. He assured me it wouldn’t take long, a few hours at most, but… I haven’t seen him since then. And he didn’t turn up to work at the Gamma Station last night, so… I’ll admit, I’m worried. It’s not the first time he’s been gone for longer than he’s said he’ll be, but… he usually finds a way to get in contact, at least. But these last twenty-four hours… nothing. I’m probably overreacting, and he’ll be back by tomorrow, but… I wish I knew for sure he was okay. And I’ll be honest, he’s been kind of my rock these last few months… I don’t know how I’m going to manage without him. He’s the only reason nobody’s been able to track me down for a little while.”

“Right…”, Jim mutters, drumming his fingers on the desk. “And you’re worried me coming over to Cermat 7 will attract undue attention?”

“Exactly, sir…”

“Right, well… what if you came to us then? Onto the Enterprise, I mean?”

There’s another good few seconds of silence before she answers:

“… I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Kirk. I mean… I trust you, for whatever reason, but I don’t know about the rest of your crew. If someone was to recognise me, and they found out you and Mr. Spock failed to turn me in…”

“I have people I know I can trust on my team- I can send them to collect you. And I can clear the shuttle bay and the corridor, make sure it’s only me and Mr. Spock here as the welcome party… I promise you, we can be very discrete when we want to be. And soon as Kol gets back planet-side, we can send you back, no problem… it sounds like you’re not sure you can stay hidden on your own. At least up on the Enterprise, no-one looking to hurt you can come on board without my say-so… it might be your safest option right now.”

There’s a long silence, and Jim lets it hang for a while- he can tell she’s thinking. Eventually, she pipes up again, her voice quiet but resolute:

“Okay Captain Kirk… against my better judgement, I’ll go aboard the Enterprise. I suppose if you wanted to betray me, you would’ve already reported me to Starfleet by now… what time should I expect your men to collect me?”

“I’ll get back to you on that… but should be within ten hours. I’ll get you a more accurate ETA once I’ve spoken to my people. You got any other questions?”

“… no, not really. I’ll just… keep a look out for Kol in the meanwhile, leave him a note in case he doesn’t come back tonight. He’ll kill me if I up and leave him without any explanation… almost as much as I want to kill him for not calling me back yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine Meeriana… but maybe we can help you track him down in the meantime?”

“… no need, Captain. He’s already a wanted man, we’ll probably just put more undue attention on him if we interfere. I’ll just… keep my line open in the meanwhile. If he wants to contact me he will.”

“Okay, if you’re sure… but the offer’s there if you want it.”

“Thank you, Captain.”, she says, her voice catching a little bit. “I suppose I’ll… see you later then.”

“I look forward to it, Meeriana.”, he smiles into the receiver. “Any requests for dinner, by the way?”

“Dinner?”, she says, her tone suddenly a lot lighter and chipper. “I mean… what do you serve on your ship? Terran cuisine mostly?”

“We have replicators, if you want something a bit closer to home?”

There’s a short pause, but then she responds meekly:

“I mean… there’s this stew they have back on Vallen… K’zech’ie? Do you think it could recreate it? That always used to be my favourite…”

“Don’t see why not! Could you spell it for me?”

Once he’s written it down, the two of them say their goodbyes, with a promise to get back to her as soon as possible. As he puts the receiver down, he frowns to herself, thinking hard.

How the hell was he going to explain to Chekov why he needed him to head to Cermat 7, in order to chaperone a blue woman back to the Enterprise? A blue woman hiding out in a laundry room behind a bar?

Eh, just tell him it’s classified information- the young man would be thrilled to be given a top-secret mission. He did always like those spy thrillers…

*****************************************************************************************

Spock sends Admiral Una a quick message after his initial call goes directly to voice mail, explaining she won’t be available for the next five hours. He uses his free time to practice his meditation and go through some experimental results sent over by his ensigns, who were well aware he still liked to work on his days off.

When she finally does get back to him, he’s finishing off the last of his corrections, scrunching his eyebrows together as he reminds himself to give his newest ensign a lecture about proper labelling of subjects. As his computer starts ringing away, he sits himself down and presses the ‘receive’ button, and immediately the screen is filled by the face of one Admiral Una: she is significantly older looking than when he last saw her, her black hair flaked with strands of grey, the aging lines on her forehead far more prominant, but otherwise she looks very much the same. A handsome woman, with pale skin and sharp features, and dark, intelligent eyes. She gives him a small, unpractised smile, the side of her mouth twisting:

“Mr Spock!”, she exclaims. “My, it has been a while…”

“Five years, one-hundred and twenty-six days to be precise, Admiral.”, Spock nods. “My apologies I have not attempted to make contact in all that time…”

“Likewise, Mr. Spock, likewise… it has a busy few years for both of us, and you have been travelling through the outer regions of the galaxy for most of it. It is lovely to hear from you, but may I ask if there is a reason you called me out of the blue? You were never one for unnecessary social calls as far as I can remember, and I find it unlikely such a fundamental aspect of your personality could be changed so drastically…”

“You are correct, Admiral. There is something I wish to discuss with you… over dinner sometime? If you are able?”

“Dinner?”, she says, raising an eyebrow. “Not something that can be discussed over a quick phone call then?”

“… in person would be more appropriate, yes.”

“… I see.”, Una murmurs curiously, accurately reading between the lines. “I am due a day of recuperation… spending an afternoon with you sounds most pleasant. It would be good to catch-up… I have some time in my diary in two days’ time. Would that suit you?”

“I will have to check with my captain, but that sounds most suitable. The nearest Starbase from where the Enterprise is currently docked is Cermat 7, but if you would prefer to meet elsewhere….”

“No, that sounds fine… I’ve needed an excuse to visit there. Shall we meet at the docking station?”

“That sounds most convenient, yes… I will forward you further details nearer the time.”

“Excellent, Mr. Spock. I look forward to it!”

“As am I, Admiral… thank you for your time.”

“Oh, no need for thanks Mr. Spock… it is lovely to hear from an old friend.”, she says, the corners of her mouth turning upwards slightly. “… it is a rare occurrence nowadays, I’ll admit…”

Spock nods, his face blank but he feels a strange mixture of lightness and heaviness in his chest.

“… likewise, Admiral. I will… leave you to your duties now.”

“Same with you, Spock.”, she says, raising her hand in a Vulcan salute which he readily returns. “Take care of yourself…”

“I always do, Admiral.”, Spock raises his eyebrow at her. “Goodbye for now.”

“… goodbye, Spock. And once again… lovely to see you.”

And with that, the transmission is cut off, and Spock allows himself to stand once more, going into a semi-mediative state as he deals with the strange sensations of nostalgia that had been brought forward from his call with Admiral Una. He rarely felt the need to get back in touch with old colleagues, but perhaps that would be something that would change as he got older. As a Vulcan he was not prone to sentimentality but… it had been most pleasant to see Una’s kind face again, even just on a monitor. It reminded him of what a calming presence she had always been for him during those most tumultuous years, accepting and level-headed.

He found himself looking forward to their meeting… even if their reasons for meeting went beyond just a simple social call.

Suddenly, he is brought out of his meditative state as his communicator starts ringing. He flips it open and answers:

“Captain? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Spock, but you need to come down to the shuttle bay… just had word from Chekov that him and Meeriana are due to dock in the next fifteen minutes. You and I need to be the welcome party… formal wear not necessary.”

Chapter Text

“Jim! Why the hell have you cleared the shuttle bay? What are you up to…?”

“Bones, you said you didn’t want to get involved with this…”

“You’re involving me and the rest of the ship when you start bringing unchecked passengers on-board! Goddamnit Jim, did you even think for a moment…”

“Look Bones… she’s here now, no going back. Either stay and meet her or go back to sickbay… it’s up to you.”

“Her?! Oh god, Jim, please tell me you didn’t bring…”

“Keptin?”, Chekov’s cheerful voice suddenly pipes up through Jim’s communicator, interrupting them. “We have entered the shuttle bay… passenger is ready to be collected!”

“Excellent work, Mr. Chekov!”, Jim smiles down at his communicator. “Me and Mr. Spock will be over there in a minute… Kirk out.”

“You got Chekov involved?!”

“Relax, Bones, I didn’t tell him anything, just told him where to go get her…”

“Oh, yes, because that makes it sooo much better…”

“Doctor McCoy? What are you doing here?”, Spock enquires calmly, suddenly emerging from behind his shoulder, surprising Bones who lets out a stifled yelp. “This area of the corridor was supposed to be cleared of all personnel…”

“Yes, well…”, Bones splutters, pointing his finger at him. “… you two promised you were going to be discrete about all this! And now you’re bringing a criminal onto the Enterprise! You do realise you’re putting all of us at risk, if someone were to discover you two knowingly smuggled her on board?”

“We assure you, Doctor, that no one will find out…”

“Oh, assure me, can you? Tell me, can you promise that, hobgoblin…”

“Bones.”, Jim interrupts firmly. “It was my decision to invite her onto the Enterprise, not Mr. Spock’s… yell at me if you must. Regardless, Meeriana is here now, and unless you’re going to volunteer yourself to take her back, she’s staying here- it’s up to you if you want to be part of the welcome party or not.” Jim nods over at Spock. “Shall we, Commander?”

“After you, Captain…”

And with that, the human and Vulcan start heading down the corridor together, leaving McCoy to gape after them a while, still red-faced and wide-eyed.

After a few more seconds of frozen disbelief, he starts marching down the corridor after them, cursing the two of them out profusely under his breath as he went.

*****************************************************************************************

“… and you know, the modern shuttle design was first developed in Russia, you see, and the initial blueprints were based off a combination of World War Three aircraft and USSR train carriages… oh, here’s the Captain now!”

Chekov waves over excitedly at them as he stands just in front of the shuttle pad, Meeriana by his side, who towers over him by at least half a foot. She’s wearing the same outfit as the last time they saw her, besides a thin green jacket that’s slung over her shoulders, covered in clumsily sewn-on patches. She has a polite but weary look on her face, a look that many shared after spending a few hours in Chekov’s company.

“At ease, Chekov.”, Jim smiles over at him, as he salutes on approach. “Many thanks… I hope the transfer was mostly straightforward…”

“Absolutely, Captain! It was nice to get out actually… been kind of boring, being stationed planet-side all week… and Miss Anna here makes for delightful company!”

“Good to hear, good to hear…”, Jim nods over towards the doors. “Please, take the night off now, you’ve earned it…”

“Thank you, sir!”, Chekov grins, before inclining his head at Meeriana. “And lovely to meet you miss… please, enjoy your stay on the Enterprise!”

“Thanks, Pavel.”, Meeriana smiles back at him, brushing her hair out of her face. “Hopefully we’ll see each other again sometime…”

“Oh, for sure!”, Chekov exclaims. “You should join us in the rec room sometime…”

“Miss… Anna…”, Spock says slowly, a slight emphasis on the fake name. “… will unfortunately be too occupied with her duties this week to engage in extracurricular or social activities outside of work hours…”

“Oh, that’s a pity.”, Chekov says sadly, looking genuinely disappointed. “Well, it was lovely to meet you regardless, miss!”

“Likewise, Pavel.”, she drawls, sticking out her hand for him to shake, which he does happily. “Have a good night!”

“You too!”

And with that, he gives a small bow to Meeriana and the three men before making his way out of the room, leaving them alone finally.

Meeriana raises her eyebrows at Jim as she nods towards the door:

“Nice guy. Sure does talk about Russia a lot… I didn’t even know the place existed before tonight…”

“Yes, that’s Chekov for you, very educational…”, Jim laughs, stepping forward with his hands clasped behind his back. “Hope he didn’t talk your ear off too much on the way over… is that all your stuff?”, Jim nods down at the small plastic bag she is carrying.

“Yes… didn’t exactly have a lot to bring. Toiletries, and my communicator mostly…”

“I’m guessing Kol is still AWOL?”

“Affirmative, I…”, Meeriana pauses, her attention suddenly taken up by something behind Jim’s shoulder, and he quickly realises what the cause of her alarm is.

“Oh, don’t worry, that’s just my chief medical officer, Dr McCoy… he’s trustworthy, I assure you. And don’t be offended by the scowling, he does that to everyone…”

“… I’ll take your word for it.”

Jim glances behind him and notes that Bones is indeed staring very intensely at Meeriana, in a way that was almost scary, his bright blues large and wild-looking. Just as he’s about to ask him what the hell was wrong, Bones points over at Meeriana, his arm shaking slightly:

“Is that a … a Kelman Aid?”, he whispers, his voice laced with horror.

Jim frowns over at him, then back at Meeriana, who looks equally as confused.

“… I’m sorry?”

“Your eye, the fake one… it’s a Kelman-make, no?”, Bones says, suddenly striding forward to get a better look, making Meeriana stiffen and step back slightly as he continues to stare at her, bug-eyed.

“I mean… maybe? I don’t know exactly…”

“God, those haven’t been manufactured in nearly fifty years now! They’re practically antique… no self-respecting doctor should… who did the surgery?! They should have their license revoked…”

“… I mean, considering I got it done in a back-alley, I don’t think they had any kind of official license, per se…”

That admittance only seems to worsen Bones’s dismay.

“Dear lord… does it even work anymore?! Can you see out of it?!”

“Uh… kind of?”, Meeriana shrugs, her eyes darting over to Jim for help. “Doesn’t really do colour, not after the last time it fell out…”

“Fell out?!”

“Yeah, guess it was put in a little loose initially, so I have to… adjust it, on occasion. It’s fine though, just have to replace the screws…”

Bones just starts shaking his head, his eyes now roving up and down her body, particularly the most burnt areas.

“Jim mentioned you’d been in a fire, but… dear god, none of those wounds look like they’ve ever been treated! That one looks like it’s opened up again, that could be a recipe for infection, and… the skin, around your face… it looks really tight. You must be in agony…”

“Bones…”, Jim murmurs quietly, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Ease off, would ya? They must have given you some sensitivity training at medical school…”

“Screw sensitivity, Jim!”, Bones barks at him, suddenly taking his tricorder out. He starts running it up and down Meeriana’s body, who just looks on, clearly unamused by the proceedings. “Dear god, the amount of nerve damage here… miss, I must insist you report to sickbay as soon as you are able. We can get that eye replaced, deal with the worst of the damage here… I’ve only got human tissue on board for skin grafts but give me a few days and I can synthesise some biologically compatible tissue. You’ll still have some scarring left over from the procedure, of course, but at least you won’t be in pain anymore…”

“That… will not be necessary, doctor.”, Meeriana says stiffly, backing away from his tricorder. “I’ve managed these last couple of years just fine, and I have enough painkillers in my bag to last me the week here…”

“Ma’am, from the readings I’m getting here, whatever pills you’re taking aren’t doing a sufficient job… your metabolic rate is much higher than it should be, along with your heart rate. And that’s not even getting into the infection risk… it looks like you’ve only just gotten over something viral recently, correct?”

“Quite frankly, that’s none of your business…”, Meeriana sighs, visibly losing patience now.

“Oh, you made it my business when you stepped onto this ship…”

“Bones!”, Jim snaps, glancing over at Meeriana apologetically. “She just got here! Let her rest up a little before you threaten her with going under the scalpel… now, either quit freaking out and come join us in the guest quarters, or go take over M’Benga’s duties- it’s up to you.”

He scowls over at Jim, before whirling around and pointing his finger at Meeriana, who returns his scowl.

“I am going to go prepare a salve for you with some antibacterial properties… you will use it while you are staying here under our roof, or else! And by the end of this week, I want that eye replaced… that thing is one bad day away from breaking down completely! Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

And with that, he skulks off, muttering under his breath as per usual. Jim glances back towards Meeriana, smiling apologetically:

“Sorry about him… he’s a little blunt, but he means well. You should hear how he talks to me sometimes!”

“It’s fine.”, she mutters, moving her hair back in front of her face. “I guess I just forget sometimes, how shocking my appearance is to people…”

“Oh, it’s not that! Bones just gets… very offended, let’s say, when he thinks people aren’t taking sufficient care of themselves. He has a hard time turning off his doctor side in polite company…”

“… why do you call him ‘Bones’, anyway?”

“Old Earth joke… it would involve explaining the entire history of one of our American civil wars for you to fully get it… and I imagine you’ve already been overwhelmed by Chekov’s masterclass on Russian history!”, Jim grins at her, indicating towards the door. “Anyway, shall we?”

*****************************************************************************************

“Oh… damn!”, Meeriana whistles as she steps into the guest quarters. “This is fancy! Can’t remember the last time I had a proper bed…”

“Glad you like it, Meerana… sorry, Meeriana.”, Jim smiles, taking her bag from her and placing it on the provided desk. “Mind if I just call you ‘Miri’, actually? ‘Meeriana’ is kind of a mouthful…”

“No!”, Meeriana says sharply, a tense expression on her face as she visibly stiffens. Jim stares at her, surprised by the severity of her reaction, and even Spock regards her curiously.

Meeriana coughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck as she seems to do her best to regain her composure:

“… sorry. It’s just that I don’t really do… nicknames. I know you didn’t mean anything bad by it…”

 “Oh, it’s fine…”, Jim gives her his best winning smile, trying to save the mood a little. Perhaps shortening people’s names was considered offensive on Vallen? He couldn’t remember that fact being mentioned on the mission reports, but it was possible he’d missed something. “I’ve put in an order with a kitchen- apparently one of the chefs is familiar with some Vallen cuisine and can make that stew you mentioned from scratch, no need for a replicator. I’ve also put in an order for pizza- you said you’d never had it before, so may as well get a bit of cultural enrichment while you’re with us!”

“Oh, thank you…”, Meeriana breathes, a ravenous look in her eye. “I didn’t want to say anything, but… I haven’t really eaten today. Kol is usually the one to sneak me food from the kitchens, and I was too worried about getting caught to sneak in myself…”

“Well, I best go collect our order then! Mind if me and Spock join you for dinner?”

“… sounds good to me, sir! Long as there’s plenty for all of us…”

“Oh, believe me, there will be! Spock, you show her how the shower works while I’m gone…”

When Jim returns to the room with a pile of covered trays, steam and good-cooking smells wafting from them, he finds Spock and Meeriana seated at the table, a piece of writing paper between them which Meeriana is currently sketching something on.

“You giving Spock here an art class, Meeriana?”, Jim smirks, setting down the food on the table.

“I have asked Miss Meeriana to give me an overview of where guards are located around the palace… she thinks her contact will be able to shut down security cameras in certain areas if she tells them where we plan to go.”

“Sounds promising…” Jim says, his gaze on Meeriana who is now staring hungrily at the dishes laid out on the table. “Lets get back to that once we’ve eaten…”

“Yes, Captain!”, she grins, pulling out a plate and piling it with food, Jim following suit. Spock takes out his own food package delicately, a plant-based pasta salad.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are that of chewing and clattering cutlery, as Jim and Meeriana ravenously chow down, while Spock observes them silently, slowly poking at his own food, the slightest hint of amusement in his eye as he watches the two of them wolf their food down.

“Stew any good?”, Jim manages to ask between bites.

Meeriana gives him a thumb up, chewing happily.

“Excellent… I can tell it’s not quite authentic, but not a bad thing! Still delicious…”

“Here, try the pizza… I ordered multiple different toppings! Margherita is the most basic, Hawaiian the most divisive…”

“Hmmm…”, Meeriana nods distractedly, already grabbing multiple slices. “Yeah, sounds good, sounds good…”

As Jim watches her take a slow bite of the cheesy foodstuff, closing her eyes and humming to herself as she did so, clearly savouring the taste, he can’t help but feel a wave of empathy rise up in his chest- she had mentioned she had often gone long periods without a proper meal growing up, and as someone who went through a long period of severe starvation himself as an adolescent, he very much knew the feeling. How it felt to try and force yourself to ignore your body’s protests for weeks and weeks on end, the endless gnawing pain, how it ate away at your very identity, only your base survival instincts remaining…

How were you supposed to see something as sacred as basic sustenance in the same way ever again? Even now, with his own ship and his every need met, Jim still had a hard time keeping down the panic he experienced any time his body complained of hunger, even though logically he knew he wasn’t starving, that he would likely be sitting down with a warm meal in just a few hours.

It was like his rational mind kept trying and failing to convince his irrational side he was now safe.

He’s brought out of his musings when the intercom starts ringing, and he walks over to let Bones in, who strides into the room holding a large bottle of ointment. He turns his gaze onto the feast laid out on the table and frowns:

“… may I remind you of your diet plan, Jim?”

“Oh, come on, Bones! I can have a cheat night now and again, can’t I? You want any?”

“I already ate…”

“Good, because I’m planning to finish all this…”, Meeriana mumbles, grabbing several more slices of pizza.

Rolling his eyes, Bones hands the ointment bottle to her, which she takes after wiping her greasy hands on the provided napkins:

“Here… rub it on your burn marks before bed and in the mornings. It’ll prevent infection, and will soothe the pain…”

“Thanks…”, she says grimacing, placing the bottle next to her plate tentatively. “… but it really isn’t necessary…”

“Oh, just do it!”, Bones snaps, flopping himself down on a nearby sofa. “For my own peace of mind, if nothing else…”

“How do I know you haven’t poisoned it? You seem like a mean little man, wouldn’t put it past you…”

“Oh, so what? You think I’m a bad guy, but Captain Impulsive and Commander Hobgoblin over there are plenty trustworthy?”

“Yeah- because they buy me dinner.”

“Oh for the love of…”

 “Anyway…”, Jim interrupts them, standing up and gathering their empty dishes together. “I’ll just go dump this lot, and then we can get back to business… if that’s okay with you, Meeriana?”

“Sounds good to me, Kirk.”, Meeriana shrugs, before casting a quick glance over at Bones. “I assume you’ve already told him everything…”

“Yes… unfortunately.”, Bones mutters, folding his arms against his chest. “Quite frankly, I wish these two had kept me out of it…”

“You know you’re free to leave Bones…”

“Nah, watching you and Spock play spies is like watching a car crash… pretty horrific, but you just can’t look away. Besides, you’ll probably be needing a medical doctor by your side when this all goes tits up…”

Jim ignores that last bit of snark from the doctor and turns back to Meeriana, who has brought her sketch out again, her back straightening and her expression intense yet stoic, looking every inch the soldier she once was.

She starts talking them through the layout of the palace, where the cameras could be turned off and for how long without raising suspicion, which rooms might contain important documents:

“… and the King’s study here? According to my contact, that room hasn’t been touched since he fell into a coma. There might be some potential there… if he wasn’t quite in his right mind when he got ill, he might’ve got sloppy, left some dodgy tax returns out in the open, a letter from one of his many illegitimate children, something…”

“I think we’re going to need something better than that Meeriana…”, Jim grimaces, looking down at her paper. “What about the current acting monarch, the princess regent? Where would she keep evidence of her dirty dealings?”

Meeriana hesitates a moment, her hand wavering over the map and Jim watches her eyeline stray towards one of the larger rooms nearer the back, the one labelled ‘royal chambers’. He raises an eyebrow at her, stabbing the crude sketch with his finger:

“Something interesting here? I assume that’s where Feronzi and her husband sleeps.”

“Correct, Captain. And… no, there isn’t.”, Meeriana says hesitatingly, looking down at the table, deliberately avoiding his eyes.

“You’re a poor liar- you know that right?”

“I’m not lying! It’s just… not important.”

“Surely I should be the judge of that?”, Jim says, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, spill- any extra information couldn’t hurt!”

Sighing, Meeriana leans back in her seat, hands behind her head, showing off her impressive bicep muscles.

“… it’s kind of a long shot, Kirk.”

“This whole thing is a long shot- most likely I’ll find nothing useful, but I’m willing to try anything. Now, tell me what you know.”

With another heavy sigh, she leans forward again, her arms pressed against the table, tensing slightly:

“Well, around five hundred years ago, there was a peasant uprising against the royal family that was obviously unsuccessful… but they did manage to assassinate the ruling queen at the time, along with her husband and two of her children, all in their beds at the time. Bloody, brutal business… anyway, the point is, the remaining royals took care to take extra precautions from then on… and that included building an underground bunker that could be accessed from the royal chambers. A reinforced structure that could withstand just about anything, even nuclear warfare, and in theory, could only be accessed by the Vallen royal family.”

“Ah!”, Jim exclaims, an excited look on his face. “Now that… sounds promising…”

“It isn’t though, sir… the princess knows that I know about it. Most likely, she no longer uses that space or has traps in place to ensure me or other members of the P.O.V members don’t go snooping…”

“Right, okay…”, Jim frowns, glancing down at the sketch again. “But you said, in theory, the bunker could only be opened by a member of the royal family… what did you mean by that, exactly?”

“Well, see… the entrance utilises very old Vallen technology, very archaic… a simple sensor that detects for a DNA fingerprint matching the old royals as a common ancestor. In more recent centuries, they added extra security: two sets of keys, one for the reigning monarch, and the other for their partner, if they’re married.”

“… but assuming they are not related to their partner, surely their husband or wife would be unable to access the bunker themselves?”

“That is why it became tradition for the Vallen royals on their wedding night to gift their partner a locket containing both the key and a lock of their hair… so that they may bypass the sensor on their own. Like I said, very archaic and crude technology, the fact it can’t tell the difference between a whole Vallen being and a small DNA sample…”

“Indeed…”, Spock murmurs. “Quite appalling security really…”

“Well, the bunker has not actually been utilised that much by the royals the last two centuries or so… there’s been no need for it really. The palace defences are basically impenetrable nowadays, and the people are too scared of the family’s wrath to try anything as rash as an assassination… there’s so many family members anyway, you’d have kill hundreds of aunts, uncles and cousins before you could kill off that line for good. It’s just not worth it… besides, the bunker isn’t exactly common knowledge amongst the general public. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who knows about it outside of the family, actually…”

“… and yet you seem to know a great deal about it, including its history.”, Spock notes, raising his eyebrows the slightest margin. “Am I right in inferring that you have accessed this ‘bunker’ yourself in the past? Back when you worked as a guard in the palace?”

“… yes, that would be correct.”, Meeriana whispers, her face colouring slightly, her hands going up towards her neck self-consciously.

“May I ask... how you were able to achieve such an endeavour?”

“Because I…”, Meeriana closes her eyes, her expression slightly pained as she pulls something out from underneath her top. “… because I have the locket… the one that is supposed to be given to the princess’s…. partner…”

What she places on the table was a simple looking necklace, a small silver pendant that regardless looked more expensive than anything else she was currently wearing. Jim stares down at the shiny piece of jewellery, putting his hand out cautiously towards it, glancing up at Meeriana as he does so:

“Would you mind if I… have a look at it?”

She shrugs.

“Knock yourself out…”

Jim puts the necklace carefully into his palm, the pendant still warm from being against Meeriana’s skin. He opens it up, and sure enough, inside was a tiny silver bauble which he could only assume was the key, and a lock of thick, black hair- it very much matched the hair that grew out of the princess’s head, right down to the slight wave to it.

He looks over at Meeriana, who is just staring down at the table now, a sullen look on her face.

“Meeriana, how did you… get your hands on this?”, Jim whispers, doing his best to catch her eye, to make her look at him. “I imagine that… it can’t have been easy…”

“Actually, it was easy, Kirk.”, she mutters, her expression darkening. “Too easy… it was given to me.”

“You were… given it?”, Jim stares at her. “By who?”

“By the contact who… betrayed me.”, she hisses, clenching her fists. “Who betrayed all of us…”

“And how did your… contact get it?”, Jim asks, handing over the locket to Spock who looks over it with great fascination.

Meeriana is silent a while, her face flushed and eyes slightly glassy, looking like she was one the edge of fury or great distress. He tries to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shrugs him off once again.

“Kirk, I… I haven’t lied to you, honest.”, Meeriana eventually chokes out, her voice heavy with emotion. “But I… did withhold a few things… things I didn’t think especially mattered at the time…”

Jim doesn’t say anything, just nods, waiting for her to continue, which she eventually does:

“When I said I was a… palace guard, that was true, but there was more to it than that. I… was Feronzi’s personal bodyguard, back when she was just the princess, not princess regent…”

“Right…”, Jim murmurs, taking in this new nugget of information, glancing back towards the locket.

That would explain how she was able to get access to her quarters at least…

“… and when I said the contact who betrayed me was close to the royal family, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but I did twist the truth slightly… she isn’t just close to the royal family, she is a royal. The royal, even…”

She takes another shuddering breath, the classic sign of someone admitting a painful truth they hadn’t needed to say out loud in a long time:

 “The contact who betrayed me, and the rest of the P.O.V … it was Princess Feronzi.”

Chapter Text

“Wait, wait, wait…”, Bones cuts in, waving his hands about, an agitated look on his face. “So you’re saying that you once knew the princess… personally? And you chose to keep this little factoid to yourself?!”

“Yes, well…”, Meeriana shrugs, not meeting his eye. “Like I said, I didn’t think it important… it changes nothing…”

“Changes nothing?!!”, Bones exclaims thunderously. “I’ll tell you missy, it damn well changes a lot! What else might you be keeping from us? For all we know you could still be working for her, leading us into a damn trap…”

“Ah yes, there we go…”, Meeriana chuckles bitterly, her tone devoid of any humour. “The accusations are already flying… and you wonder why I kept this to myself…”

“Look, Meeriana…”, Jim says calmly, throwing a quick look at Bones, a silent order for him not to retaliate. “… we’re all just… a little surprised, that’s all. I feel like there might be more to the story here, correct?”

Meeriana is silent a moment, just continuing to stare ahead, absent-mindedly scratching at her scarred arms. Jim can tell Bones wants to jump up and make her stop, but he holds himself back for now, just continuing to scowl at her. Jim rests his hand next to her, not touching, but he hopes she can appreciate the sentiment:

“Hey…”, he whispers softly. “… you’re in a safe place here, you know that? Whatever happened,we won’t judge… well Bones here will, but that’s just in his nature… mean little man, as you said…”

Meeriana snorts at that, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle a smile, ceasing the scratching for now. Jim can see Bones relax ever so slightly, his posture not quite as rigid.

“… when I say it didn’t matter, I meant it Kirk…”, Meeriana says quietly, turning towards him, a slight wetness to her eyes. “Regardless the story is the same… I trusted someone I shouldn’t’ve, and I got thousands of people killed… not a story I love relaying over and over…”

“… but it sounds like the details to this story are important, Meeriana.”, Jim says, inching his chair a little closer to her. “I’ve often found, to most effectively take down an enemy, you need to know them inside and out… and in this case, I’m going in blind. I met the princess for the first time this week, and I still know little about her… I have my own first impressions, and the stories I’ve heard from others, but I don’t truly know her. But from what I do know… it would seem unlikely that someone like you would be taken in by someone like her… she doesn’t exactly come across as a master manipulator…”

“Yes, well, I also used to be a lot more naïve, Kirk…”, she sniffs, rubbing at her face.

“… were you though?”, Jim asks, raising his eyebrows. “You told me you grew up on the streets… I can’t pretend to know what that’s like, but I imagine experiencing such hardship would make you weary of trusting others…”

“I’m trusting you, aren’t I?”, she mutters. “A goddamn Starfleet captain…”

“Only because you’re desperate… you said so yourself. In normal circumstances, I don’t think you’d take such a risk…”

“… you don’t know me that well.”

“No, I don’t.”, he admits, folding his arms across his chest. “But you’re here on my ship because I’ve chosen to trust you… and to me, you come across as bright young woman who’s been through a lot, far more than most should have to go through in their whole lifetimes. And I think the only way you would trust a member of the royal family with such sensitive information, is if you thought you had good reason to trust them… and I want to know what those reasons are. Partially to sate my own curiosity, but mostly because I want to understand the enemy a little better, know what I’m up against…”

He gives her a steady stare when she stays silent, her hands drifting back towards her arms, claws digging in. This time, he forgets all sense of subtly and clasps her fingers, forcing her to stop:

“Meeriana…”, he whispers. “Please… let us help you…”

 She stares down at his hands, and slowly he releases her clawed fingers, and edges his chair slightly away again, like she was a wild animal he was doing his best not to startle. She looks around at the three of them: Jim’s pleading face, Spock’s curious eyes, McCoy’s slightly perturbed expression. She sighs heavily:

“… I haven’t talked about this in a long time… Kol knows some of the details, but it’s Kol, it’s hard to keep anything a secret from him… and he never pressures me to talk about anything I don’t want to…”

“Maybe it would help to talk?”, Jim says, glancing back at Bones, who gives him a thumbs up. “I mean… what’s the harm anyway?”

She gazes at him wearily a second, before shaking her head sadly.

“It won’t help… but I suppose if you’re putting your career on the line for this, you deserve the truth. I suppose I’ll start at… when me and her first met, all those years ago. Each of the royals are assigned at least one personal bodyguard to accompany them around the palace, and I was brought on to be Feronzi’s, not long after her previous one died in action. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it… I’d been brought in by the P.O.V to act as a spy, and being forced to babysit the youngest royal would mean people’s eyes would always be on me, watching… not exactly ideal when attempting espionage right under their noses. But I figured I’d just bear with it for a while, that I’d be re-assigned soon enough… and then, I actually met her…”

Meerina stares ahead, a far-away look in her eye, like she’s picturing that very day.

“Literally my very first job was to track her down and bring her back to the palace… she’d attempted to escape again, you see, and apparently it was a semi-frequent occurrence with her. When I finally did locate and capture her, she was wild, screaming and clawing at me, but I was able to easily subdue her and bring her back to her rooms. She then screamed at me to leave her alone, which I did- I stayed stationed in front of her bedroom door, but I let her be until it was time to fetch her for dinner… and by that time, she’d calmed down somewhat. She… asked me my name, and apologised how she acted towards me, said she understood I was just doing my job…”

Meeriana glances over at Kirk, as if suddenly aware he was still there, a weary look in her eye.

“… you have to understand, I know that doesn’t sound like much, but… compared to the rest of her family, she was being downright courteous. The royals would usually refuse to address a member of staff directly unless it was to reprimand or belittle them, so I found it… strange. It put me on my guard, I thought for sure she was messing with me: that she planned to report me, demand that I was fired or worse, arrested… but nothing came of it.  We just spent the next few days going over the same routine, me guiding her from appointment to appointment throughout the castle, taking her on her daily exercise walk through the palace grounds, sticking close to her side at formal events… all the usual bodyguard stuff. We didn’t talk much, but I… couldn’t help but observe her closely. She acted so… different to the rest of her family, none of that haughtiness or entitled demeanour. She was just… quiet mostly, kind of meek in front of her parents, and there was always just this… this… sense of sadness emanating from her.

And after just a few weeks of working there, I… could understand why. She seemed totally alone, with no friends to speak of, no one to talk to outside of her family and… they weren’t exactly good to her. As the youngest of thirteen, and therefore the least important in their eyes, she was treated as kind of disposable by both her siblings and her parents, there to be ignored or abused… both emotionally and physically. I won’t get into the extent of it now but lets just say… there were so many times I wanted to step in, to wipe the smirk off her older sibling’s faces, but she always just told me not to get involved… lest I suffer the same fate as her last bodyguard. She seemed to imply… that his fate hadn’t been entirely an accident, that it had been orchestrated by one of her sisters… all because… he had stopped her from putting out lit cigarettes on her arms…”

Meeriana frowns a moment, tapping at her own burnt arms self-consciously.

“I can’t help but wonder now if that had also been a lie, that it was a way of trying to earn sympathy points from me… because it certainly worked. I found myself pitying her… and even if it had been intentional on her part, she certainly acted like she hated it. Whenever I asked if she was alright after witnessing something truly horrendous, she would just tell me to mind my own business, in a way that was strangely assertive for her… she never stood up for herself otherwise, but that was probably just because she wasn’t scared of me. She was certainly scared of her family and for good reason…. it was tradition for them to try and get ahead in line to the throne by any means possible, and the means would often be murder, but sabotage or blackmail was also used on occasion… it’s called ‘the game’, and they seemed to hate the fact Feronzi never seemed to show an interest, nor even attempted to play it… though of course…”, Meeriana smiles grimly, showing off her pointed teeth. “… it seems she outplayed all of them in the end… gotta hand it to her…”

“Okay, so it sounds like she was a very different person when you two first met… or at least she acted like it.”, Jim nods at her. “So how did she end up getting involved with P.O.V business? How did she… become your contact?”

“… it took a long time for that to happen actually.”, Meeriana mutters, curling in on herself. “For a little over two years, I stayed her bodyguard, and slowly we grew more comfortable in each other’s company. We… chatted, a lot, I found her surprisingly easy to talk to… of course, I was always careful not to share personal details about myself, and she learnt not push me too on that subject… but we talked about other things. We would spend hours in each other’s company and not run out of things to talk about and against my better judgement… I started to consider her… a friend. I would be the one she’d come to whenever she was upset, and she would make excuses for me whenever I was found sneaking around places I shouldn’t be…  it was kind of a symbiotic relationship in a way. I think that she… could tell I was up to something: I would often disappear for hours at a time some days or make excuses about being sick whenever I needed to visit a P.O.V safehouse, but I don’t think she ever figured out the full extent of it herself- not on her own anyway. I think she just thought I was stealing the odd trinket or antique to make a bit of extra money on the side… she knew I didn’t exactly come from wealth. It sounds stupid to say now, but I almost kind of felt guilty about the fact I was there under false pretences, that I was lying to her face every single day… even then, I knew that was an irrational feeling to have, but it was the truth. I let myself… care about her. And it was the worst mistake I ever made…”

Meeriana starts rubbing at her arms again, and chews at her lip, Jim almost wincing when he sees the sharp fangs brush against the exposed, burnt flesh on the upper part of her mouth.

“And then one day… I was caught, red-handed, while carrying out a mission. I was… arrested, tortured for information, and when I wouldn’t talk, they charged me with treason against the government. I was taken to the palace dungeon to await my public execution. Of course, I always knew my work with the P.O.V might one day result in such a fate… but it didn’t make it any easier. I still remember when they brought me in front of the King and Queen in the throne room, all bloodied and bruised, where they announced the extent of my treachery to the entire court. I remember seeing Feronzi’s face and the way she… she looked at me… and how much I hated myself for caring what she thought of me. Here I was, about to be put to death for a cause I believed in, and all I could think about was what some princess thought of me… part of the very crowd I was trying to take down. It was… shameful, how much I’d let my friendship with her affect me. Even now, I don’t understand why I let myself put my guard down around her, let myself care…”

Spock hands the locket back to Jim, the pendant still opened. As he stares down at the shiny black hair, he can’t help but think how intimate a gift it is, a lock of hair kept inside a necklace…

In Terran culture at least, such a gift would only be given to people you were truly close to.

“I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep the night before my execution, but manage I did… I guess recovering from my injuries had taken a lot out of me. So when someone started shaking me awake, I assumed it was morning, that the guards had come to take me to my end… but when I opened my eyes, it was Feronzi standing before me. I thought I was still dreaming, that I’d wake up any moment and be back in the dungeon alone… but it was real. She started hurrying me out, explaining on the way how she’d manage to drug the prison guards by putting something into their broth, that she had an escape route out of the castle grounds… something she’d been working on by herself for months apparently, whenever I’d left her alone to do my P.O.V work. In case she ever decided to run away again, something she hadn’t actually attempted to do so in a while… not since the first day I’d started working there, anyway. She’d managed to de-electrify a small section of the fence surrounding the castle by grounding it, and had covered all the nearby cameras with foliage, to ensure they wouldn’t pick up on any suspicious activity. I was… pretty impressed by her ingenuity at the time, but now I wonder if that was just a tall tale she made up to placate me. Perhaps she had simply ordered her guards not to interfere that night, I don’t know… I’m not sure of anything anymore…”

She starts scratching at her arms again, and this time Bones is the one to stop her.

“Do that again…”, he growls, catching her claws mid-scratch, seemingly unphased by their sharpness. “… and I will sew mittens onto your hands, I swear to god…”

Meeriana rolls her eyes at him, but she obediently brings her arms back down to her sides.

“Anyway… right before I made a break for freedom, she… gave me a secret communicator. Said that if I ever needed to see her again… to just give her a call, and we would meet at an agreed place. By that very fence, even, if it suited me… I didn’t promise anything at the time, but I did take the communicator before making a break for it. Didn’t stop until I finally made my way back to the safehouse, where the rest of the P.O.V members were surprised as hell to see me… they thought for sure I was good as dead. Course, they wanted to know how exactly I escaped and so, I told them the truth. I, er… never told them about the extent of my friendship with the princess, so it did come as a total shock to them. The P.O.V leader at the time told me that under no circumstances should I contact her, that it was probably a trap so I would lead them straight to us. I knew he was right of course, so I handed the communicator to him, and made peace with the fact I would never see Feronzi in person again…”

“… but then some of the younger guys in our ranks decided to do something pretty fucking stupid. They got it into their heads that they could kidnap Feronzi and hold her for ransom, that they'd threaten to hurt or kill her unless the royals agreed to the P.O.V’s terms. One of them managed to steal the communicator, and they sent a message, pretending it was me agreeing to meet her by the fence.”

“I wasn’t even aware of their stupid plan until I walked into the meeting room one day, and I saw Feronzi sitting right there, tied to a chair, looking cool as a cucumber, while the rest of those idiots argued around her. Soon as I walked in the room, her face immediately brightened… like the fact she was being held hostage by a bunch of wanted criminals meant that little to her. Gotta say, it was a really ridiculous scene… then the first and second in command entered soon after, and I tell you, they were furious, kept yelling at the guys, asking them if they understood the gravity of their actions, how they’d endangered us all…”

“Then Feronzi piped up and said… that if they let her go now, she could get back to the palace and be back in her room before the morning wake-up call, with no-one none the wiser. Our leader scowled at her and asked why they shouldn’t just kill her now, and she said… that it would be a bad look for them. That the boys had done a terrible job covering their tracks, and that as soon as she was reported missing, her family’s security forces would be easily able to follow the breadcrumbs back to their base, that even if they started evacuating now, it would be too late, that their capture was inevitable. Our leader then asked if that was a threat, and she said no, that she was just explaining why… just letting her go was the best option for them. That she wouldn’t tell on them and that… I could vouch for her. Gotta say…”, she mutters, wiping at her brow. “… did not appreciate being put on the spot like that...”

“When they still weren’t convinced, she asked if she could make a trade… the documents she had on her, the ones she had planned on giving me, in exchange for her freedom. Well, of course, that piqued the leader’s curiosity, and he demanded that she show him, and lo and behold, what she had on her was printed correspondence between the King and his advisor, proving that they were in cahoots with local and outer-planetary drug lords and traffickers, along with the corresponding receipts.  It was just the blow to his reputation we needed… almost too good to be true, even. Our leader asked her how the hell she got this information, and how he was supposed to verify these were even real. Well, according to Feronzi, her father had needed to rush off somewhere and accidentally left his study door open on the hinge... allowing her to sneak in and have a look around. His computer was locked, but she started looking through the wastepaper basket and noticed some scrunched up bits of notepaper with random sets of numbers and letters written on them- and she realised they kind of looked like randomised passwords. She started trying a few of them, and after a few false starts, she was in… and she started looking through his messages, started printing out anything that seemed particularly juicy, before logging off and getting the hell out of there before anyone could discover her.”

“She then grinned at the leader and said if he needed to verify the validity of the messages… that her father likely hadn’t changed his password since last week. That if she gave him her father’s username and password, she was sure the P.O.V’s people would be able to hack into the palace’s system, and see the messages for themselves…”

“Our leader just stared at her, gobsmacked, and everyone’s eyes were on both me and Feronzi… and she seemed a lot more unphased by the attention than I was, to be honest. I’d never really seen that side of her before… around her family, she was always an anxious mess, but in front of a bunch of anti-monarchist rebels holding weapons? Cool, calm, collected… it was strange, but I kind of liked seeing that side of her. Our leader then asked her why she had been snooping around in the first place, and she said that she knew she wanted to see me again someday… but that I’d probably only agree to meet if I had something substantial for the P.O.V to use. He then asked her if she understood we were working to take down her family, and she replied that she understood… and she approved of their cause entirely. And that if they would allow her… she would like to offer her help to the cause. That she could be… an inside informant, someone entirely above suspicion.”

“We all just stared at her a while, and when we didn’t answer, she pointed out that if she wanted to betray us, she would’ve already… that she could’ve informed her guards of the message as soon it came through on her communicator. But that if they still didn’t think they could trust her… that she understood, and she’d be on her way, never to bother them again.

The leader then ordered the boys to leave and to not talk about this to anyone, and he took me aside and asked if it was true I could vouch for her… and I said yes. That she was… trustworthy.”

There was a pained look on Meeriana’s face, her face colouring, though whether it was with anger or shame, it was hard to say.

“And for a few years after that, things were good… Feronzi would report back to us every week or so through the communicator, and around once a month, she would claim she was going on a weekend trip to a spa or something, when really she was visiting one of our safehouses…”

“Wait.”, Jim interrupts, putting a hand up. “You’re saying the P.O.V entrusted one of the royals with the location of their safehouses?”

“Not at first… it took her a long time to build up their trust. You have to understand, while the P.O.V had had its victories over the years, it was always slow work to get there. With Feronzi working for us however, things started rapidly accelerating… so much so, the royals began to suspect they had a mole within the palace, but they never suspected one of their own. Sure, they’d literally backstab each other to get ahead in the game, but none of them could conceive of the idea that one of them would try to take the monarchy down from the inside… they all benefited from it after all, and they took great pride in the family name. And Feronzi would be the last person they suspected… they’d underestimated her all their lives, and none of them could ever imagine her outwitting them in the game.”

“One of our biggest victories against the government was thanks to her… she managed to bug the Head of Defence’s bedroom when he came to visit the palace and obtained a recording of him admitting to war crimes committed outside the boundaries of Vallen, within the Federation. For the first time in history, a close ally of the royal family was court martialled under intergalactic law, and after that, Feronzi was entirely above suspicion. When she visited us, she would hang out, chat with fellow P.O.V members, get to know them... I remember she would always volunteer to babysit people’s children…”

Her eyes grow watery, her fists clenching, and Jim could only imagine she was recalling the way several of those children had succumbed to a fiery blaze that night.

“Anyway… me and Feronzi, we stayed… good friends over those years. We didn’t see each other as much as we did when I was working as a guard, but at least there were no secrets between us anymore… or so I thought. Because, you see… something changed.”

“When I first met Feronzi, she had little to no chance of inheriting the throne… she had twelve older siblings, and her oldest sister had two young sons. So such a thing occurring never even crossed our minds… of course, it was quite a scandal when the second oldest allegedly had the oldest princess and her family assassinated while on holiday, but amongst the royals, that was practically tradition. If you were the oldest, you could never expect to live that long… too many people standing behind you, ready to push you down the stairs. But then… the siblings kept killing each other, and I think their father falling into a coma only made them more desperate… in their mind, the old man was going to die any day now, and the discussion of inheritance would soon be had. For once, being the youngest was a clear advantage for Feronzi, as none of them had a reason to want her dead, besides for their own sick amusement… so she just did her best to stay silent on the sidelines, all while continuing to report to us. It was actually getting kind of comical, the rate at which they were killing each other… one year, there was one funeral for every season.”

“Even when it came down to just Feronzi and two older brothers, we never thought she would inherit the title… we just thought one brother would end up killing the other, and he would become the prince regent. And that almost happened… except, both brothers ended up tumbling off the same cliff together when they tried to push each other off. It was… quite extraordinary. At the time I thought it was an accident, same as the rest of the world, but looking back on it now… I can’t help but wonder if she had a hand in orchestrating it. She was always more cunning than she let on… and the chance for leadership just seemed to fall into her lap.”

“When she talked to me about it… she made out like she hated it, that she was scared of the idea of being in charge, but me and the rest of the P.O.V talked her into accepting the title. Once she was sworn in as princess regent, and her father the king finally succumbed to his illness… well, we probably could've abolished the monarchy in just few short years, long as we were smart about the way we went about it. Made sure any remaining family members vying for the throne were dealt with, have all of the previous King’s allies put away for their crimes, petition to become part of the United Federation of Planets, so our people would be protected under their laws… we spent months drawing plans out, going back and forth, and with Feronzi now being in charge of her palace security, I managed to sneak in to see her more and more. It was during that time… she showed me the bunker, where she did most of her undercover work from. And it was that very same night… that she gave me the key. Said that I should have it, in case anything went wrong, and I needed a place to hide out for a while… we both knew that, even with her in charge, dismantling the monarchy was going to be a messy business, that it would result in us making a lot of enemies…”

“So you think she gave you the key…”, Jim says slowly, looking down at the pendant. “… because she was trying to protect you?”

Something about this story wasn’t making sense…

“That was the reason she gave Kirk.”, Meeriana sighs, her shoulders slumping forward. “I realise now that she was probably just messing with me, making me think she cared…”

“But what would be the purpose?”

“… purpose? Kirk, she literally reintroduced public flogging this last year, she forces prisoners to watch as they murder their families right in front of them… she just enjoys other people’s pain. And I was an idiot for not seeing it sooner…”

“You’re not an idiot, Meeriana…”, Jim frowns at her. “From what it sounds like, the entire P.O.V trusted her… she must’ve been very convincing…”

“But the only reason they ever even gave her a chance was because I vouched for her… and I, out of everyone, should’ve been able to spot she had ulterior motives… after all, I knew her the best out of any of them… or at least… I thought I did…”

Underneath that veneer of self-loathing, was some kind of deep despair, the same look he’d seen in the eyes of grieving widows, recently orphaned children, or even his own reflection on occasion.

He remembered what she had said about the lockets… that they were supposed to be given to the reigning monarch’s partner…

And with that, things suddenly slid into place a little better… not completely, but his suspicions that the young woman seated in front of him was still holding something back were very much validated.

“Meeriana…”, he says softly, pushing the locket back across the table towards her, but she refuses to look at it. “… can I ask, were you and the princess…”

She flinches, a deep scowl growing across her face.

“Were we what, Kirk?”, she snaps, folding her arms tighter across her chest.

Jim doesn’t clarify further, because he already knows that she understands exactly what he’s talking about- she wouldn’t be acting so defensive otherwise. He just continues to gaze at her, unblinking, hand still resting on the clasp of the necklace.

After a minute spent in complete silence, she finally relents, groaning as she rests her arms on the desk, head down on the table.

“Fine! Me and her… we were together. The night she helped me escape… was the first time she ever kissed me. That bitch played the ‘poor little rich girl’ card, and I fell for it… hard. I played right into her hands… and thousands died because of me. And I hate myself every day because of it.”

She turns to him, a mocking little smile on her face, tears in her eyes:

“Any further questions… Captain?”

Chapter Text

“… I’m sorry, I did not mean to upset you…”

“No, you didn’t Kirk.”, Meerina mutters, using the back of her hand to wipe at her eyes. “It’s not your fault… I know you’re not an idiot and I’ve never been good at hiding my true feelings. Probably the reason I made such a poor spy… and Feronzi such a good one. She was playing both sides and we never even guessed… even now, I look back on it all, trying to figure out if any of it was real…”

“How did it happen?”, Jim asks. “Because before you said she… betrayed the P.O.V by revealing the location of their safehouse… and that the location was provided by you. But surely, if she was in constant contact with them, she already knew where the next meeting place was…”

“That’s the thing Captain… once she was sworn in officially as princess regent, she stopped contacting any of us, even though the plan was that she would continue to update us on a weekly basis. We thought at first that she was having a hard time finding time to herself as the new leader to make such private calls. But then weeks and weeks went by and… nothing. Just radio silence. It was so strange… we had plans laid out, plans she was supposed to be adhering to, such as passing new laws that would allow normal citizens basic rights… but instead, official reports indicated she was doing the very opposite. I couldn’t quite believe those reports until I saw the evidence with my own eyes. And even then… I told myself that it couldn’t be Feronzi doing this. That… that someone was forcing her hand, that she was being blackmailed, that someone had threatened to kill me and the rest of the P.O.V if she didn’t answer to their demands… I genuinely believed she was in danger. That’s how goddamn deluded I was…”, she shakes her head, scoffing.

“The rest of the P.O.V were disappointed of course… Feronzi was their hope for a better future, and she ended up being just like her father. They did find the sudden switch… jarring, but perhaps, not unexpected. After all, true power is an intoxicating thing, of course it would go to the head of a young woman who had felt relatively powerless all her life… it was disappointing but not surprising.”

“But I insisted… that she wouldn’t betray us like this. That… I knew what kind of person she was, that she would never be so easily swayed… and I remember everyone looking at me with such goddamn pity. Perhaps they had guessed the nature of my relationship with the princess, how she had managed to wrap me around her little finger… it would certainly explain why the leader of our group took me aside on day and told me, under no circumstances, should I to attempt contact with Feronzi. That if I did… I’d endanger them all. You see, the rule was that she would always be the first to contact us first, not the other way round, and we’d never broken that rule before… we’d never had a reason to. Feronzi had always been good at maintaining frequent contact… until then, anyway.”

“I… should’ve listened to him. If I had… they’d all still be alive now…”

Meeriana shivers and starts to dig her claws into her arms again, but Bones stops her again, not saying anything, but giving her a stern look.

“Sorry… it’s just… a lot. Anyway, one day, I stole the communicator, and I tried calling the number… the first few times it wouldn’t pick up, but then I waited a few more hours, and on the fourth try… she picked up immediately. She sounded… strange, uncertain, like she couldn’t figure out why I was calling… never mind that she hadn’t talked to us for months… and when I wasn’t getting any clear answers out of her, I asked her what the hell was going on, why she hadn’t talked to me in months, that the P.O.V were assuming she’d turned their backs on them. She apologised and said… that it had been difficult with so many eyes on her, that she was surrounded by enemies at all times, that she wasn’t really in charge, that it was them calling all the shots, she was powerless to anything… but that it would all be changing soon, that she was close to flushing out all her dissenters, that she would soon deal with them permanently. And that once she’d done that… we could meet in person, go over our plans together, without any risk of being caught. I asked if we could meet in person now and… she agreed. We met up by the fence and… I should’ve known something was wrong; she acted so different, and she had this weird little smile on her face nearly the entire time…”

Jim recalls that very smile and feels his stomach clench but does his best not to let the discomfort show on his face.

“She asked if anyone else was with me and I said no… that I came by myself, that the P.O.V didn’t know I came her. She apologised for her silence, but that things would be different from now on… that she’d be willing to meet up with the rest of the P.O.V to explain herself, let them know she was still on their side. And so I let her know… that we’d be moving safehouses soon.” Meeriana lets out an unsteady breath, her entire body shuddering. “I told her… the address for where we planned to move to. And one week later… the raid happened, as I told you before. So many people, burnt alive or blown to pieces that night… people she claimed to consider friends, and their children… goddamn it, I remember her holding them in her arms, playing with them, teaching them old folk songs…”

Meeriana can no longer hold it together anymore, as she breaks down into uncontrollable sobs, her shoulder heaving as she makes loud choking noises, tears sliding painfully down her burnt face. Jim holds her hand, unsure of what else to do, and this time she doesn’t snatch it away, instead clenching it back, taking care not to accidentally scratch him with her long claws.

“Sorry, sorry… it’s just… in some ways it should be easier to have someone else besides me to blame for what happened, someone to focus all my hate on, but… it isn’t. I really loved… the person I thought she was. And knowing now that it was likely all a lie, that she was just playing the long game, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take us all down… it’s like I’m mourning the death of someone who never really existed. And you want to know the really pathetic part? That even after all that, it took me months to accept I’d been duped… I tried to convince myself that she hadn’t meant to betray us. That maybe someone had been listening in that night, or someone had threatened or tortured the information out of her… if that had been the case, I think I could’ve learnt to forgive her, as sad as that sounds. Even when I saw the evidence with my own eyes… her throwing around her power, the open cruelty towards her subjects, and then she married that… that… man. I… spent hours and hours reviewing news footage of her… I wasn’t entirely sure I was looking for, maybe signs of mind control? But… there was no evidence of that. What I saw on screen was a woman very much in control of her own faculties, no blankness behind the eyes… only glee, as she went on national television and announced to the entire planet that her soldiers had managed to take down an entire organised terrorist group, and that all hostiles had been… elimated…”

She hisses that last word, and she pulls out of Jim’s grip, clenching her fists.

“I had such a hard time believing I could’ve been so wrong about someone… that I had been tricked…”

Jim frowns at her, mostly in sympathy, but also partly in confusion. There was still something about this whole story that… still didn’t sit right with him, a sense of wrongness niggling in the back of his mind.

“I don’t understand…”

“Yeah, well, join the club, Captain…”, she mutters bitterly.

He shakes his head and does his best to clarify:

“No, I mean… why did she wait all those years to turn you in? After all, you said she’d been privy to the locations of the P.O.V safehouses for years. So why wait? Why not give you all up immediately?”

Meeriana shrugs sadly.

“I’ve often thought the same thing Kirk… I’ve gone over it again and again in my head and… I don’t have a concrete theory by any means, but I have a few… firstly, that it actually was her plan all along to become the sole ruler of Vallen… and that she played a much larger part in her sibling’s deaths than I initially thought. And that she was maybe using the P.O.V’s resources to discredit her own relatives, so that she’d eventually become the only viable candidate left. So she kept us around… until we stopped being useful to her.”

Jim raises an eyebrow at her.

“That sounds like… a lot of planning and foresight on her part. And the woman I met last weekend… didn’t seem the cunning type…”

“Believe me, Captain…”, Meeriana says grimly, her mouth set in a straight line. “… she’s excellent at getting people to underestimate her, as well as being a talented actress. The woman I knew verses the person I see on the news… completely different people. I don’t know if anyone knows the real Feronzi… her husband, maybe. He seems just as soulless… they deserve each other, really.”

“But you said you knew her for years… she never let the mask down, for all that time?”

Meeriana is silent a moment, a small tear sliding down her face.

“I… don’t know. Perhaps she did, and I just didn’t see it, or want to see. That’s the problem, you see, when you grow up without love… you end up not being able to tell the difference between the real thing, and when someone is just using you. Who knows? Maybe there was a time, when she thought she cared about me… but then, she realised what she really wanted, was power over an entire nation, not just one person… after all, she is still her father’s daughter. Maybe her deciding to work as a spy for us was just a young person’s way of getting back at her family… she certainly didn’t like them, I’m sure of that much. And with most of them dead, she no longer had use for us… and that’s why she turned against us… I just don’t know Kirk, I don’t know…”

She puts her hands over her face, letting out a series of unsteady breaths:

“Shit, this is so lame, I actually don’t cry that often, you have to believe me… I just… haven’t talked about this out loud in a long time…”

“It’s fine, Meeriana.”, Jim says, his eyes softening. “And… I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you, I’m just trying… to understand. Why she would turn against you so suddenly…”

“Captain, I’ve been trying to understand her actions for years now…”, Meeriana says bitterly, wiping at her eye. “… and believe me, it will just drive you mad. I’ve come to the conclusion there is no understanding evil… it just is.”

Jim’s forehead crinkles a little at that, as he thinks back to all his past run-ins with some truly heinous individuals…

… but there had always been some kind of logic, reasoning behind their actions, even if that reasoning was mental illness or mind control…

… and Princess Feronzi did not particularly strike him as crazy or not in control of herself.

“I don’t know if I agree with you… there is always a way of understanding evil. Are you sure the princess never…”

“Jim.”, Bones says firmly, his eyes glancing back and forth between him and Meeriana, who is just staring miserably down at the table, her face still wet from tears. “Maybe we should give it a rest, now? It’s getting pretty late…”

“I was just…”

“I know. But there’s no reason it can’t wait until tomorrow… hell, I’m exhausted, thanks to you and Mr. Spock’s little wake up call this morning.” Bones nods over at Meerina: “And… speaking from experience, talking about a bad break-up can take a lot out of you… but I must say, it is nice to have someone on-board this ship who has worse luck with the ladies than me…”

“Bones!”, Jim admonishes, but to his surprise, Meeriana starts to chuckle, the sound painful and raw, shoulders heaving, before turning to Bones with a little smirk on her face:

“Oh, so you’re saying there are women out there who’ve given you a chance? Why do I find that supremely unlikely?”

“Watch it.”, Bones growls, but there’s no real heat behind it this time. “Don’t care if these two idiots have given you the okay… they’ve not been the best judge in the past…”

“Clearly, if they consider you a friend…”

“Okay.”, Jim claps his hands together, looking between the two of them. “Not that I’m not enjoying this little bonding moment… but Bones may have a point about us taking a break for now. I’m sure you’re looking forward to sleeping on an actual bed for once, Meeriana…”

“Definitely.”, she mutters, rubbing at her shoulder. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up with no feeling on one side of my body…”

“Put that on before you catch your thirty winks- it’ll help with the pain, and stop your skin from flaking off.”, Bones says sternly, pointing over at the jar of salve. “And believe me, I will know if you didn’t...”

“Fine.”, she says, rolling her eyes at him. “Whatever gets your weird ass off my back, I guess…”

“… and you will come to my sickbay tomorrow.”

“Pass.”

“Now listen here…”

“Bones!”, Jim says sharply. “I think it’s your turn to drop it now…”

McCoy scowls at him, before standing himself up and skulking towards the door. Just as he’s about to leave, her whirls around and stabs his finger in Meeriana’s general direction:

“I’m not dropping this!”

“Didn’t think you would.”, she replies dryly.

With one last huff, he marches out of the room, the doors swishing closed behind him. Spock raises his eyebrows at the doctor’s retreat, while Jim just chuckles nervously.

“… like I said before, he does mean well… he’s just very confrontational, you see…”

“He’s a busybody, you mean…”, Meeriana mutters, screwing open the lid of the salve jar and giving it a distasteful sniff. “… but as long as he isn’t a snitch, I guess... anyway, anything else before we all give up for the night?”

“Just a couple of things…”, Jim says slowly, glancing towards Spock. “… Spock here is meeting with an admiral friend of his in the next couple of days… we’re trying to sniff out who the snakes in the grass are, so to speak. And, if Kol happens to get in touch with you between now and then… would you mind letting him know? We might need his help…”

“I do not need his help.”, Spock says shortly, visibly bristling. Jim just rolls his eyes at him.

“Look, Spock, I’m not asking you to make friends or anything, just that he might be a useful source to have…”

“I find it unnecessary... and risky. We have no reason to trust that man…”

“Unlike me, you mean?”, Meeriana laughs before quickly frowning. “It probably won’t matter anyway… even if he does get back to me, I doubt he’ll agree to help you two- he doesn’t trust you either. The only reason he approached you in the first place was because I asked him to…”

“We’ll see…”, Jim says brightly, flashing her a cheeky grin. “I’ve been told I can be quite persuasive…”

Spock doesn’t roll his eyes exactly, but he does give him a heavy stare.

“Look, if he calls, I’ll tell him…”, Meeriana sighs, splaying out her hands. “… all I’m saying is, prepare to be disappointed.”

“Understood.”, Jim nods. “Mind if I ask one more thing?”

“… only if I get to ask one first?”

Jim thinks on this a moment, then shrugs.

“Sure, why not?”

Meeriana chews on her lip a moment, looking nervous.

“Can I just ask… what changed your mind? I mean… when we met last time, I could tell you were no fan of the royals, but you seemed… reluctant to get involved. May I ask… what changed? Did she do something to you? Threaten you?”

“I haven’t had any direct contact with the princess these last few days.”, Jim says subduedly, not quite meeting her eye. “The only contact we’ve had has been from her husband, about these second round of talks… that’s it.”

“Okay…”, she says slowly, her good eye flickering up at him. “But… something did happen, yes? Because I don’t believe you would put your job on the line like this, if it wasn’t personal…”

“You’re correct.”, Jim sighs, looking over at Spock, who discretely places his hand on his lap underneath the table, squeezing his thigh supportively. “Something did happen… but like you said, it is very… personal…”

“I understand, Kirk.”, she says, giving him a tired smile. “Apologies, I should not have…”

“One of my admirals drugged me.”

She blinks at him.

“Pardon?”

Jim sighs, running his hand through his hair, unsure if this was a good idea, but hell, she had just poured out her deepest, darkest secrets to him, hadn’t she? He should somewhat return the favour.

“The night we met… you said that you’d heard the princess had shown me ‘special’ attention… and I denied it. It wasn’t quite a lie, but not quite the truth either… I did lie with her that night, but it wasn’t exactly… consensual. One of the Starfleet admiral, Henson, thought that the princess would only agree with the alliance if I slept with her… and when I refused, he slipped something into my drink.”

Meeriana stares at him, wide-eyed a moment, before quickly clearing her throat:

“I… can’t say I was expecting that. Did Feronzi… do you think she knew… that you were under the influence?”

Jim thinks on this a moment, pondering.

“I do not believe so…”, he says slowly, wincing as some of the memories come flooding back. “… but I can’t say for sure. Do you believe that is something she is… capable of?”

“The person I thought I knew? Absolutely not. The person I now know her to be? Yes- she probably gets off on using people. She’s certainly not getting any from her geriatric husband…”, Meeriana tails off and her face colours. “Sorry, that was really inappropriate of me…”

“It’s fine.”, Jim smiles. “Can’t say I didn’t have the same thought when I saw him…”

Meeriana chuckles again, before quickly returning back to that serious expression, all business.

“So… did you report it?”

“Yes- but my case has been dismissed.”

“I see… so they’re protecting this guy? The admiral?”

“Most likely, yes.”

“Right…”, Meeriana murmurs, shaking her head in disgust. “Can’t say I’m too surprised, based on what Kol has told me, but it’s still disappointing… at least you’re convinced now? That there’s something rotten going on within Starfleet?”

“It is hard to deny now, yes… I am sorry I didn’t wholly believe you before.”

“It’s fine.”, Meeriana smiles. “I wouldn’t believe some strange woman hanging out in a laundry room either… long as I can count on your full support now?”

“You’ve got it… long as that support is returned in full…”

“Course- I’m never one to go back on my word.”, she says firmly, frowning over at him. “So… you said you had a question for me as well? Shoot!”

Jim raises an eyebrow at her.

“You might be upset with me…”

“Well, you won’t know until you ask it will you? Go ahead…”

“Right, well…”, he leans forward, looking her directly in the eye. “I know you said that… you believe the princess was never genuine in her convictions, that she was merely scheming, biding her time, but… are you quite sure there might not have been an ounce of truth in there? An ounce of, good, even? That maybe, she is still capable of being… persuaded? We could never trust her entirely, of course, but if we could convince her of the benefits of leading with mercy…”

“Captain Kirk.”, Meeriana interrupts him, holding her hand up. “I understand why you wish to believe such a thing is possible… believe me, I’ve spent many a night hoping for the exact same thing. But I’m sorry, she is beyond any kind of repentance… it took me a long time to accept that, and I suggest you do the same now. I can still remember the very day I gave up on her entirely… I was sent a video of a public execution, of a young girl me and Feronzi both knew, barely a teenager… she was taken in by the P.O.V years ago when her mother, a senior member, was killed in action. Feronzi had held her, brought her soup, made her eat even when she didn’t feel like it… and woke her up whenever she started having night terrors. She treated her… like she was family. And yet, in that video… she wandered up that terrified little girl, surrounded by hundreds of people, declared her a traitor to the state with a gleeful smile on her face and then just… just… slit her throat. Like she was… nothing.” Meeriana starts shaking again, but this time it’s not from distress, but rage. “So, to answer your question, Kirk… no, you cannot persuade her to come to her senses. All we can do… is make sure that bitch pays. It won’t reverse the suffering she’s caused, or bring all those people back, but…”, she gives a heavy shudder, before continuing: “… at least they’ll get justice. Even if has to be from beyond the grave…”

“I understand…”, Jim says sadly, standing himself up. “I’m sorry for bringing up bad memories…”

“Oh, you didn’t, Kirk… they’re always on my mind anyway, just swirling around in there… but it’s for the best. I have to remember why I need to keep fighting, after all…”

She stares down at her burnt arms, flexing and unflexing her clawed fingers:

“… yes, I have to remember… anger’s the only thing keeping me going anymore…”

“Doesn’t sound very sustainable…”, Jim points out, grimly.

“Maybe not…”, she shrugs nonchalantly. “But I don’t expect to live that long anyway… I have too many powerful enemies.”

“You have us now… we can protect you.”

But she just shakes her head at him.

“I appreciate the sentiment Kirk, but… let’s be real. If it’s between me or the lives of your crew, the people you actually care about and have a duty to protect… we both know which way you’ll go. And I won’t resent you for it by any means, but… I’m also aware I can’t rely on you. Unlike me, you’ve got a lot to lose…”

“Maybe, but I also have everything to gain here as well.”, Jim smiles at her. “My crew… has performed so goddamn miracles in the past, even when I thought we were beyond all hope. If there’s anyone you should put your hope in, it’s them…”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Kirk…”, she says mournfully, but there is there is the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. “Now, tell me… how do I order breakfast around here?”

Chapter Text

“Come on Bones! You’ve done all your tests, you can see I’m fine…”

“There’s a difference between signing you off for desk work, Jim…”, Bones mutters as he looks over his readings. “… and me giving you the medical go-ahead to go snooping around some dictator’s homestead. Why do you have to be the one to do it anyway? There’s gotta be some less conspicuous people we can send down…”

“I’m not risking anyone else’s life, Bones.”, Jim says firmly, crossing his arms across his chest. “Besides, it’s pretty clear from the invitation given, that it’s specifically me they want to see… everyone else is optional.”

“Jim, please tell me you at least plan on bringing some security personnel…”

“Of course, Bones… you really think I’d be that foolhardy?”

McCoy doesn’t answer, instead simply pricking yet another needle into his arm. Jim scowls at the doctor- he was sure he deliberately pressed them in harder when he was annoyed.

“And tell me this, Jim… how exactly are you going to go sneaking around the palace when the princess constantly pestering you the entire time? Have you thought about that?”

“Of course! Meeriana’s contact said she’d be able to make a distraction for me, that I’ll know when it happens…”

“Ah yes, the very trustworthy Miss Meeriana…”, Bones scowls, shaking his head at him. “Tell me, Jim… have you spent more than two hours in her company yet?”

Jim shrugs.

“Don’t have to- I’ve got a good feeling about her.”

“Oh, a good feeling? Well, pardon me for having doubts…”

“Although, I will say…”, Jim frowns, staring into space. “… there were a few things about her story… that didn’t entirely add up for me…”

“Are you suggesting she has been dishonest with us, Captain?”, Spock asks, standing just to the side of him as Jim remains sat on the examination table, still being poked and prodded by Bones.

“No… I think she is being truthful. It’s just, well… I still don’t quite understand Feronzi’s motivations. You spend years as an undercover agent, only to suddenly turn on a dime?”

“Power corrupts, Jim.”, Bones shrugs as he examines the last of his readings. “Makes perfect sense to me…”

“Sure, power corrupts… but so quickly? From what Meeriana said, it seems like she completely switched personalities on them as soon as the crown so much as brushed the top of her head.”

“For some people… that’s all it takes, Jim.”

“Yes, but…”, Jim thinks about the woman Meeriana described in her story: one who would risk the wrath of her own family to help a political prisoner escape, and would subsequently seek out a rebel group, one looking to take down the monarchy, no less, and offer her own services as an undercover agent.

He tried to picture this woman, and in his mind, he puts this portrait up besides the image of the ruthless dictator, along with the simpering, swooning airhead he’d had to engage with all of last weekend…

None of them seemed to match. These were all very different women.

Who was Feronzi really? Did she even know herself anymore?

“Jim?”, Spock says, his eyebrows crinkling in concern, and he realises with embarrassment he’s been staring into space, not talking, for a little while now.

“Right, sorry…”, Jim mutters, rubbing at his face. “I was just… thinking. About how someone can just turn on somebody like that…”

“Don’t see why you’re so shocked by that, Jim.”, Bones frowns over at him, whilst putting away his equipment. “You’ve been betrayed by plenty of so-called friends in the past…”

“Yes, but at least even at the time, I understood why.”, Jim says, gritting his teeth together. “I mean… Gary… there was always a darkness in him. One I never wanted to fully acknowledge… after all, we’d been friends for years, and I always wanted to think the best of him. So when he was gifted godlike psychic abilities… well, I was disappointed, but deep inside, not that surprised. Meeriana on the other hand… she’s clearly just as confused as the rest of us, if not more so. She trusted this woman, heart and soul, and she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily tricked…”

“Love makes fools of all of us, Jim.”, Bones says sagely. “You two should know that more than anyone…”

“I do object to your slight against my mental capabilities, doctor.”, Spock says coldly. “But… I do happen to agree with you that Miss Meeriana’s inability to identify clear indicators of the princess’s true intentions were most likely due to her affection towards her. The Vallens are a passionate people after all, slaves to their emotions… perhaps even more so than humans, if possible.”

“Mr Spock, I do admire your ability to both agree with me and insult my entire species in the same breath.”

“Thank you, doctor. Is Jim free to go now?”

“Yes, yes, all clear…”, Bones says, waving his hand. “Am I right in thinking you won’t be wanting a sleeping aid tonight, Jim? Because I can whip something up quick for you if you need it…”

“Thanks Bones… but I’ll be fine, thanks. Just need to… get back to my usual routine, I think.”

“… usual routine with at least a few hours of mandatory therapy every week for the next three months, yes.”, Bones nods.

“So… you’ll give the go-ahead to attend the talks tomorrow?”

Bones frowns at him, tapping his fingers against his arm.

“Jim, if you manage to get yourself into trouble, I’m going to feel guilty as sin for letting you go…”

“I won’t, Bones! I mean, if you want, you can even tag along if you’re so worried…”

“And spend another day rubbing shoulders with those pompous morons? Thanks, but no thanks- one weekend was enough.” Bones sighs as he looks over his readings again. “I mean, I’ve got no medical reasons to say no…”

“Great!”, Jim beams, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Glad we’re agreed! I’ll just spend the rest of today refining our plan, and going over tomorrow’s agenda…”

“Ah yes, that reminds me Captain…”, Spock pipes up, taking his PADD out. “We were sent over the latest guest list this morning for tomorrow’s meeting, and there were a few curious additions…”

“Oh, yes?”, Jim says, raising his eyebrows. “What are they?”

“Captain Perkins of the USS Darwin… and his first science officer, Dr. Chakrabarti."

“Perkins?”, Jim stares at him, as he recalls broad shoulders, a handsome, tanned face, and thick black hair peppered with grey. “Why on earth would he be invited? He wasn’t present at the last round of talks… or any of his people, for that matter.”

“I do not know… only their names and professions are listed here, no reason for their attendance. I can only speculate that perhaps the Vallen royals would like some of their own scientists to collaborate with Starfleet’s research vessels.”

“… perhaps.”, Jim mutters, scrolling through his own PADD. “Still… it’s odd. There was no mention of that during the initial talks… are they the only outliers?”

“Yes sir. Everyone else attending was present at the event last weekend, though many have dropped out due to scheduling conflicts. Perhaps they were invited to fill out the numbers, so to speak?”

“Or maybe they heard Jim was attending, and thought they should invite Perkins, just so he’d have something pretty to stare at all day?”, Bones grins cheekily.

Jim frowns over at his friend, very confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just saying, Jim…”, Bones drawls, giving him a little smirk. “Even before I knew you weren’t just strictly for the ladies, I always thought you kind of had a crush on that guy…”

“I do not!”, Jim retorts, his face flushing. “I have no idea where you got that ridiculous idea from…”

“Probably because you always go red as a tomato whenever I see you two in the same room together…”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous! He’s thirty years my senior, probably!”

“Spock?”, Bones turns to the Vulcan, putting his hands out, one eyebrow cocked upwards. “Tell me I’m wrong?”

Spock hesitates a second, glancing over at Jim exasperated face, before turning back to Bones:

“While I understand you are deliberately trying to rile me up doctor… I will admit I do share your opinion on this matter. In fact, when I first discovered that Jim had in fact engaged in sexual activities with male-identifying individuals in the past, my first assumption was that one of those individuals was likely Captain Jeffery Perkins- party due to several physical symptoms I had observed in Jim while in his presence, seeming to indicate a curious mixture of nervousness and sexual desire. I was most surprised to learn during our first mind meld together, that he and Perkins had had no such encounters in the past…”

“Oh my god!”, Jim groans, knuckles pressing against the side of his head. “I don’t know what symptoms you think you’ve been observing Spock, but I’ll have you know, I am in no way attracted to Perkins. If I have seemed… nervous in the past, it’s simply because he is rather intimidating…”

“Intimidating?!”, Bones scoffs incredulously. “Perkins?! What world are you living in Jim? A teddy bear is more ferocious than that man… he’s always acting like an overexcited schoolboy who’s just been gifted a new chemistry set…”

“I’m not saying he acts intimidating Bones, just that… he’s one of the most accomplished and decorated Starfleet captains in the fleet, has several doctorates, and he’s in his mid-sixties and still looks like that…”

Jim’s voice trails off when he realises his mistake, noting Bones’s large smirk and Spock’s one cocked eyebrow. He scowls at the two of them, muttering: “I hate you, both of you…”

“Love you too, Jim.”, Bones winks at him, before turning back to Spock. “Sure you’re going to be okay with your boyfriend sitting across the table from Captain McDreamy all day?”

“Bones!”, Jim snaps, giving him a warning glare.

“I have no concerns on that matter, doctor.”, Spock replies, giving Jim the faintest of smiles as he runs his fingers along his. “Though I will confess, I do wish I could accompany the captain planet-side tomorrow… I do find we work most effectively as a partnership…”

“… sweet-talker…”, Jim mutters, rolling his eyes, before returning his Vulcan kiss with a human one, earning them a groan from Bones.

“Ugh… yeah, no. Still weird…”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Bones…”, Jim chuckles as Bones simply responds with a rude gesture.

Just then, Jim’s communicator starts going off, and as he flips it open, he notes the number as coming from the guest quarters- likely Meeriana. He immediately presses accept.

“Kirk here.”

“Morning, Kirk.”, Meeriana’s husky drawl comes through the comm, still sounding half-asleep. “Apologies, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I was up early myself.”, Jim says, glancing over at Bones who mutters something rather derogatory sounding. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, thanks, I was just calling to let you know… I have Kol on the line right now. On my secure line, I mean. Apparently he got back to Cermat 7 less than an hour ago, and he was wondering where the hell I was, so I’ve just been filling him in on what’s been happening. Anyway, he… has asked to speak with you, Kirk.”

“Me?”, Jim frowns down at the communicator. “What does he want?”

“No idea, Kirk- but he seems pretty angry right now. Talk him down for me, will ya?”

“Can do… I’ll come up now. Kirk out.”

He flips his communicator shut, catching Bones’s judgemental stare as he did so.

“That the Bajoran criminal you’ve decided to work with?”, he asks dryly.

“Maybe.”, Jim responds, raising an eyebrow. “What of it?”

“Nothing.”, Bones mutters, shaking his head as he slips his gloves on and starts taking out some research samples from underneath his desk. “Just that if I wanted to associate myself with so many unsavoury individuals in my working profession, I would’ve become a pirate, not a doctor…”

Chapter Text

Meeriana is still on the phone when he wanders into her room, her communicator clasped tightly to the side of her head as she seems to be engaged in some kind of argument with the person on the other end, pacing back and forth:

“… look, I’m sorry, you’re not changing my mind, Kol… oh, he’s here now.”, she says, waving her hand over at Kirk before rolling her eyes at something said on the other end. “Who do you think? Captain Kirk! You said you wanted to talk to him or whatever… well, here you go…”

She passes the receiver over to Kirk and mouths: ‘Sorry if he says something assholey.’, before heading off into the bathroom, the sound of the sink running as the door closes behind her.

Sighing, Jim puts the receiver to his own ear:

“Hello, Kirk here…”

“What the absolute hell, Kirk?!”, Kol’s voice explodes through the receiver, making him wince from the volume. He sounded very different from the cheeky, carefree young man he’d met the other night. “I was gone for less than forty-eight hours, and you decided to basically kidnap her?!”

“Okay, first of all, Mr… Kol.”, Jim says calmly, holding the receiver away from his ears slightly. “If you hadn’t disappeared without so much as a phone call, Meeriana wouldn’t have felt the need to come to us. Second, we did not kidnap her, she came to us of her own volition…”

“Oh yes, that’s what she thinks.”, Kol growls, clearly still angry. “But I know your type, Kirk… you think you can sweet talk anyone into getting what you want, especially someone as young and vulnerable as she is…”

“I assure you, that is not the case.”, Jim scowls, rapidly losing patience now. “Meeriana needed my help, and I hers… it was a transactional affair, but not exploitative. She is a grown woman who can make her own choices… besides, are you even that much older than her?”

“Not the point! You took her straight into the lion’s den… if one person from Starfleet recognises her, she’ll be shipped back to Vallen in handcuffs faster than you can say ‘I told you so’…”

“We’re being careful…”, Jim says, glancing over wearily at the bathroom door. “She hasn’t even left her bedroom since docking… and she’ll have no reason to. Only I will be…”

“Yes, yes, she told me about your little plan.”, Kol snarls through receiver, and he can practically picture the distaste on his face. “Tell me, how           quickly are you going to give her up when you’re inevitably caught red-handed? Five minutes? Five seconds, even?”

“Look.”, Jim breathes slowly, in, then out, trying to keep his cool. “It’s not like Cermat 7 is the safest of havens anyway- you’re the only person Meeriana really trusts there, and you disappeared on her…”

“I told her, I was on a job! I ran into a few… complications, this time, granted, and I lost my communicator but… it was just a couple of days! She didn’t need to resort to you people!”

“And what happens when you run into complications again?”, Jim retorts. “And you go missing for a few weeks? A few months? Years? You expect her to just wait around forever? And besides, you’re just one man, and a wanted one at that, if my own research is to be believed…”

“Don’t you judge me, Kirk!”, Kol snaps. “I’ve tried to convince Meeriana a million times to cut her losses, get a new identity, move to a quiet corner of the galaxy where no one can find her, but she refuses to give up this P.O.V business, even though anyone with eyes can see that whole situation is hopeless… she’s just going to get herself killed!”

“And that’s her choice… same as you. I don’t exactly see you living a risk-free lifestyle…”

“It’s different for me! Meeriana is…”, Kol hesitates a second like he’s trying to find the right words. “… she’s sensitive, she feels too much, cares too much… she can’t turn off that side of herself, not like I can. And besides, we’re getting off-topic again… you need to convince Meeriana to come back her, before she gets arrested or worse…”

“You really think I’m capable of that?”, Jim grins. “My charm has its limits, I assure you…”

He can tell Kol is likely now muffling the receiver with his hand, but he can still hear a few swear words come through.

“Kirk, if you get her hurt, I swear, you will regret it…”

“Yes, yes, we went over that…”, Jim says, rolling his eyes.  “Look, I was wanting to call you anyway. I need a favour…”

“You need a favour?!”, Kol starts laughing hysterically. “Oh, go to hell!”

“Now, wait, hear me out… this could be a great opportunity for you as well…”

“Kirk, I have no time for this bullshit…”

“Just listen! Look, you’ve been trying to sniff our corruption in Starfleet, right? But you must not have a great deal of conclusive evidence, otherwise you would’ve leaked it already…”

“No comment.”

“… so what if I told you I could get you in contact with a Starfleet admiral? Someone my first officer can vouch for…”

“I’d say one, how dumb do you think I am? I know what a trap sounds like when I hear one. And two, why should I care about the opinion of your Vulcan lover?”

“Kol, I don’t need to lay a trap for you… if I wanted you caught, I would’ve just told the authorities where to find you. You’re hardly low-key… and the reason you should care about what Mr. Spock thinks is because he doesn’t suffer fools gladly…”

“He suffers you.”

Jim just ignores that.

“… so if he says she’s trustworthy, she is.”

“She?”, Kol says, his curiosity clearly piqued. “Which admiral are you talking about?”

“Una Chin-Riley… you’ve heard of her, yes?”

“… yes.”, Kol says slowly, “Impressive record that one… Starfleet’s golden girl… your Vulcan used to work with her, right?”

“Um… yes?”, Jim says, raising his eyebrows. “How did you know?”

“I do my research.”

“Fair enough.”, Jim shrugs. “So what about your research on Miss Una? You got any dirt on her? Any underhanded dealings I should know about?”

“… no.”, Kol admits grudgingly. “But that might just mean she’s smart about not getting caught…”

“Or she’s one the good ones?”

“Even the good ones are establishment puppets…”

“Does that mean you consider me one of the good ones?”, Jim smiles, his grin only growing wider when there’s no response. “Look, you can say no, but Admiral Una might be able to help Spock get his information on some classified information even we don’t have access to… and I understand this form of espionage is right in your wheelhouse, correct? You know how to get in and out of highly secured areas without being spotted?”

“No comment.”

“… regardless, I think they may need your help. Spock is highly capable, don’t get me wrong, but he rarely goes against Starfleet like this… and the last time he did, he got caught pretty quick.”

“… sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Yes. Perhaps for next time?”

“You sound certain there will be a next time… let me assure you, Captain Kirk, I do not crave the pleasure of your company again.”

Jim can’t help but give out a short laugh at that.

“I gave that bad a first impression, did I?”

“You seem like an arrogant, self-important tool. A self-serving one at that.”

“Yeah, well, right back at ya… look, your opinion of me personally is irrelevant at the end of the day. Are you interested in helping or not?”

“Not.”, he replies shortly.

“Oh, really?”, Jim sighs into the receiver, cocking his head slightly. “A pity. And a bit of a surprise really. I figured that for someone like you, this might be the breakthrough you’ve been waiting for… I mean, an admiral willing to talk, let you know what’s really going on behind closed doors? All those archives and records you could get your sticky little hands on…”

“Go to hell, Kirk.”

“I’ll have Meeriana message you the details of where to meet… you know, in case you change your mind?”

“Just put her back on, would ya?”

“Really? But I was quite enjoying our conversation... really felt like we were reaching a breakthrough here!”

“Kirk…”

“Okay, okay…”, Jim rolls his eyes before calling over to the bathroom, a muffled voice calling back in response. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him, and he frowns down at the receiver. “Wait, can I just ask… how did you know me and Spock are together? That’s hardly public knowledge…”

A crackle emits from the receiver, which sounds suspiciously like a snort.

“Have you met you two? It’s so obvious, it’s kind of disgusting… not to mention the way he glares at me whenever I so much as look at you. Damn possessive Vulcans…”

“Ah, see, I knew you liked me secretly!”, Jim cackles just as Meeriana walks back into the room, who raises her eyebrows questioningly at him. Still grinning devilishly, he hands the communicator back to her before Kol has so much as a chance to respond.

“Was he rude to you?”, Meeriana asks, a weary look on her face.

“Oh, absolutely… but I’m sure I deserved it.”

She shakes her head, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry about that… he’s just protective, I guess. Acts like he’s my dad or something…”

“I can still hear you, you know?”, Kol’s voice buzzes out of the receiver.

“Yes, I know.”, Meeriana drawls, now her turn to roll her eyes. “Think of it as constructive feedback… and stop being a dick. Kirk’s been good to me…”

“Only because he’s using you for his own gain…”

Sighing, Meeriana covers the receiver with her hand and whispers out the side of her mouth to Jim:

“Kirk? This may go on for a while longer. I think I can handle him on my own now…”

“No problem, I’ll leave you to it.”, Jim says, clapping his hands together and heading towards the door. “And please tell him Mr. Spock is looking forward to meeting him again!”

She gives him a simple thumbs up in response and as Jim wanders down the corridor, he can’t help but feel a little lighter- a good argument always helped him feel a little more energised, especially a low stakes one. It made him feel a little more like his usual self.

Just then, his communicator starts buzzing, and he sees that it’s a message from Uhura- strange, since usually she just called him directly about ship matters. He frowns to himself as he reads the message:

‘Captain- may we please discuss something in private? My next break is in an hour. Would your quarters suffice? I understand you are still off work today.’

He can’t help but groan as he realises what this must be about… she’d only found out about him and Spock yesterday, and already she was hounding him for further details.

Well, she was certainly going to be disappointed… he certainly wasn’t going to be as forthcoming as Spock had been, even if she did try plying him with alcohol.

Regardless, he accepts her request for a meeting- he knew this was going to happen at some point.

Best to get it over with- a nosy lieutenant was always a dangerous thing aboard a ship where the main source of entertainment was gossip. Wisest course of action was to sate the curiosity while it was still fresh.

Chapter Text

“Lieutentant?”, Jim smiles at Uhura as he walks up, finding her waiting just outside his quarters. “Is all well with you?”

“Yes, thank you, Captain…”, Uhura smiles back at him, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She gestures over at the door: “Mind if we speak… in there? What I want to discuss is something you likely don’t want overheard…”

Definitely about me and Spock, then…

“Of course.”, he nods, pressing his hand on the release button. “After you!”

As they both head into the room, Jim can’t help but notice the way Uhura’s eyes slick around the room, taking in the clues of Spock’s frequent presence, ones she likely would never have noticed before: a heated blanket left on the back of a chair, the scent of incense still left in the air, a thin, black robe on the back of the bathroom door, very different to anything else Jim owned. He was sure if he went over to Spock’s room, he would find quite a few of his own items through there, as he was often in a rush in the morning and it was nothing too incriminatory, nothing that would cause a cleaning yeoman to speculate too much anyway.

He offers Uhura a seat and asks if she wants a beverage from the replicator, but she shakes her head.

“No thank you, Captain. This won’t take long, I just wanted to talk to you… about these talks tomorrow, with the Vallen government. Have you decided who will be attending with you, Captain? As representatives from the Enterprise?”

Jim blinks at her, surprised- he hadn’t expected this to be the subject of her enquiry.

Maybe this was just business?

“I… have not. I was hoping to bring Dr McCoy, since he was present at the last round of talks, but he’s said he can’t…”

“Captain, I would like to join you tomorrow, as a representative of the Enterprise.”, Uhura interrupts him, clasping her hands together. “With your permission, of course.”

“You… would?”, Jim frowns at her. “For any particular reason, lieutenant?”

“I am well educated on traditional Vallen customs, along with the inner workings of their government, Captain. After all, I was the one who put together those information packages for you and Dr McCoy…”

“Lieutenant, believe me, I know you are overqualified. I am asking why you are wanting to attend these talks… from my memory, you did not volunteer yourself last time.”

“… I had other duties. You know that, sir.”

“Still…”

“Fine, Captain.”, she exhales deeply, leaning forward a little. “The reason I am wanting to attend this time is because… well, you do understand why you’ve been invited back specifically, Captain? Because of the princess’s interest in you?”

Jim feels his blood run cold and it takes everything in him to keep a neutral expression, but he must’ve failed, based on Uhura’s compassionate expression.

“Captain, I… look, as you’re likely aware, I spoke to Mr. Spock last night, and while he assured me that there is nothing going on between you and Princess Feronzi, well… there were many eyewitnesses at the party, all collaborating the same event- that you and the princess became very intimate on the dancefloor, and then proceeded to…”

“What is your point, Lieutenant?”, Jim snaps, his tone overly harsh but he can’t help it now- he was at the end of his tether.

Uhura stares over at him with wide eyes, but her voice does not waver:

“Captain, please be assured, I am not judging you. I know that under normal circumstances, you would not be unfaithful or do anything to hurt Spock. But… I also know you always prioritise the mission above all else, and if someone had convinced you that seducing the princess was essential for securing the alliance, I can understand how you could’ve been pressured…”

“I would never betray Spock!”, Jim retorts angrily. “And certainly not because some stuffed shirt in top brass told me to!”

Uhura gives him a steady gaze that almost seemed pitying and that only seemed to infuriate him more.

“Kirk… Captain… I just want us to be straight-forward with each other. Yes, you are my superior, but Spock is also my friend- I am very protective of him. Even before I knew you two were romantically involved, I knew he cared deeply for you, and… I think you likely feel the same way for him. So, you owe it to him to be honest, both with him and yourself…”

“And what is that supposed to mean, lieutenant?”

She sighs, pressing her fingers to her lips, and Jim’s empathetic side can tell this is hard for her, even if a larger side of him is still annoyed.

“I mean that you can’t pretend nothing happened… many witnesses were at that party, and if you haven’t told Spock already what actually happened, someone else will. If you’ve somehow sugar-coated the story, you’ll only hurt him more in the long run. From what he’s told me, he seems completely convinced there was no infidelity on your part…”

“Uhura.”, Jim interrupts, putting a hand up. “Just tell me why you think your presence is necessary tomorrow. Otherwise, this conversation is over.”

“… very well, sir.”, Uhura says softly, looking like she’s the edge of tears now. “I just thought that… I’m aware of how pushy the princess can be, and how ruthless she is when she doesn’t get her way. That, combined with the pressure from Starfleet, well…”, Uhura sighs, putting her hand on his arm. “… I’d understand if you found yourself in a situation where it felt like you couldn’t say no…”

Red wine spilt on the white tablecloth…

“… and I just thought, well, if I was there, I could provide distractions, find ways to keep the princess separated from you, or at least not alone in a room together….”

Unable to think, room spinning, too hot…

“… I could even try to match-make a little, see if there’s anyone else present that day, she might be more interested in pursuing…”

Grabbing onto soft flesh, tongue running against sharpened fangs, sweet smell of perfume….

“Captain? Are you okay? You look…”

“I’m fine, thank you Lieutenant. Just… still a little under the weather, I think.”, Jim murmurs, pressing his hand against the side of his head. “Thank you… for your offer. But your assistance will not be necessary. I am perfectly capable of warding off any unwanted attention myself…”

“But Captain…”

Just then, there is a rustling sound coming from within the bathroom, and soon after, the door swishes open, revealing Spock, who wanders into the room, hands placed behind his back.

“Captain, the doctor has asked me to…”, Spock’s voice trails off when he takes in the scene in front of him: Uhura leaning over the table towards Jim, hand outstretched and Jim’s own tense body language, his eyes slightly glassy and a pained expression on his face. Spock frowns over at them: “Lieutenant? I was not expecting to see you here…”

“Hello Mr. Spock.”, Uhura smiles over at him nervously. “Apologies, I was just asking Captain Kirk if he would allow me to accompany him to the talks tomorrow…”

“I see.”, Spock murmurs, glancing over at Jim. “Has he given you his answer?”

“Well yes, but…”

“And was there anything more to your questioning? One that could account for Captain Kirk’s notable distress?”, Spock says shortly, his monotone almost harsh in quality and Uhura picks up on it immediately, surprise evident on her face- he had never taken that tone with her before.

“Spock…”, she sighs. “I was just saying… that perhaps I could help keep the princess at bay tomorrow, in case she attempts to accost the Captain again.”

“I see.”, Spock says, his mouth growing even thinner as he glances over at Jim. “Lieutenant, I assure you, we will have a security team with us, so I see little reason your presence will be necessary on that front.”

“I know Spock, but I can’t help but worry… after last time…”

“Lieutenant.”, Spock says sharply, straightening his back slightly. “Please refrain from getting involved in affairs which do not concern you. Me and the Captain are perfectly capable of dealing with this matter on our own.”

Uhura stares at him, shocked, and Jim is recovered enough that he is also taken aback- Spock usually has such a soft spot for Uhura, he rarely lost patience with her.

“Spock, I…”, Uhura’s voice trembles, before quickly recovering herself. “Of course, forgive me, I shouldn’t’ve…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Uhura.”, Jim whispers, clasping her hand. “You’re just trying to be a good friend.”

He gives Spock a pointed look at that, and his expression only flickers so slightly, he might’ve thought he imagined it. He turns back to Uhura, sighing:

“Look, Lieutenant… you are correct, that something happened between me and the princess that evening. But… it was not something I wished to do. Or had any control over.”

Uhura stares back at him, wide-eyed, while Spock walks over and places his hand on his shoulder, as if to say: ‘Are you sure you want to tell her?’.

Jim squeezes his hand in affirmation.

“What… do you mean, sir?”, Uhura says, glancing between the two of them. “Do you mean you felt pressured? Or coerced? Were you threatened? Because we would have good grounds to make a complaint on that basis…”

“Uhura.”, Jim sighs deeply, lying his elbows on the table. “I want to tell you the truth but… I just worry having the full story will put you in danger.”

“Danger?”, Uhura says, raising her eyebrows. “Sir, I don’t know what’s going on here, but whatever it is… you better tell me. As I said before, I know how to keep a secret.”

Jim nods, sagging into his chair a little as Spock sits himself beside him, putting a firm hand on his knee.

“Yes, well… if that’s the case then you better have a beverage after all then. Because it’s a fairly long story… Spock, do you think you can put a pot on?”

*****************************************************************************************

It doesn’t take long for Uhura to break down, and he soon finds himself enveloped in her arms as she cries into his shoulder:

“Oh god, Kirk! I’m so sorry, I had no idea… I should never have assumed…”

“It’s fine, Uhura.”, Jim mumbles into her shoulder, patting her wearily on the back. “You didn’t know… and honestly, I can’t blame you for thinking I would sleep with her. Most people would… hell, I thought I had. Probably still would, if it wasn’t for Spock here.”

“But I should’ve known that you’d never… oh god, I can’t believe someone would…”, she stops a moment, shaking her head. “Actually, you know what? I can believe it of Admiral Henson… I never did like that man. I’ve spent maybe ten minutes in that man’s presence before, and it was ten minutes too long. The comments he made to me, dear god, it was like we were back in the dark ages…”

“What did he say?”, he frowns, pushing her back slightly so he can look at her. “Did you let people know he was harassing you…?”

“Oh, it was years ago, Captain! And nothing I couldn’t handle… honestly, it completely slipped my mind until now- it’s not like I have to deal with that monster everyday after all. I feel far sorrier for any young women he has working under him… I always wondered how a man like that became an admiral, and well, now I know. Honestly, I’ve never been happier to be working on the Enterprise, on the mission, away from the politics of it all. I don’t know what’s going on within the admiralty, but if they’re protecting criminals like that, well… it’s not a good sign. And framing innocent people…”, she sighs deeply. “… well, we have to find a way to put a stop to it, before it gets any worse. Are you sure you don’t want to go public with this?”

“I’m sure, Uhura.”, Jim says firmly. “If they’re that capable of fabricating evidence in such a short space of time, well… I hate to see any of my own crew go down for my own recklessness. No, we’re going to have to be covert about this… and that’s when tomorrow comes in. Officially, I’m going for the alliance talks… unofficially, I’m going to be doing a little snooping of my own. If I can find something we can use against the royals, some kind of blackmail material, we’ll have mutually assured destruction, and Starfleet will be under no obligation to protect Henson in that case. Plus Spock here has a contact within the admiralty who he thinks might be willing to help us… I mean, perhaps we’ll achieve nothing by the end of tomorrow, but it’s a start at least.”

“Captain, I…”, Uhura gapes at him a moment, seemingly at a loss for words. “Are you sure that is a smart plan? The Vallen royals can, in all likelihood, put you to death if you’re discovered... after all, they aren’t part of the Federation yet! They don’t have follow our laws!”

“It’s not as risky as you think… I have a layout of the palace, and there’s a guard willing to work with us, who can turn off the security cameras and clear hallways where necessary. I’ll still be careful of course, but so long as people’s attention is focussed on the talks, I can slip in and out unnoticed.”

“I’m fairly certain the princess’s attention will be more on you than the talks Captain… and how on earth did you manage to get in touch with a guard, anyway? You were only there one weekend!”

“Well Lieutenant… have you ever heard of the group ‘The People of Vallen’? ‘P.O.V’ for short.”

“Well, yes, I have actually- it came up in my research. They were one of the most successful rebel groups in the history of…”, Uhura’s voice trails off as she stares over at Jim, dismayed at the sudden realisation. “Oh, Captain, tell me you didn’t!”

Jim smiles apologetically.

“One of their members is staying in our guest quarters right now- promise not to tell?”

“They’re on…”, Uhura takes a deep breath, before turning over to Spock. “And you also knew about this, commander?”

“Affirmative. Along with Dr. McCoy.”

“Well, of course… you two always come as a three…”

“I mean, not quite always, lieutenant.”, Jim grins cheekily. “But Spock here doesn’t like to share…”

“… and you know the doctor would also say no, Captain.”, Uhura says dryly, rolling her eyes at him. “Anyway, so you have a wanted criminal on board….”

“You’re really starting to sound like Bones now.”

“… and you are working with them to try and get blackmail material on the most powerful rulers in this sector of the outer galaxy?”, Uhura groans, now her turn to rub at her temple. “Captain, may you please reconsider my offer to accompany you on these talks tomorrow? It does sound like you could use all the help you can get… plus it would give me a bit of mind. Otherwise I’ll just be spending all day on the bridge, worrying about what the hell is going on planet-side…”

“I don’t know, Uhura…”, Jim frowns at her. “Like I said, I’ll be careful but… I’d hate to see you implicated if anything goes wrong…”

“Captain, you implicated me the moment you told me everything… I’m not backing off now. The integrity of Starfleet is important to me, and I hate to see you, someone I respect so much, not get justice.” She purses her lips and tilts her head at him, her eyes narrowed. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away now.”

A wide smile grows across Jim’s face and he sticks his hand out for her to shake, which she does so, a small smirk on her own face, dark eyes glittering.

“Very well, lieutenant, you can accompany me tomorrow… but if I get myself into any trouble, remember… you knew nothing, capiche? You were just an innocent bystander, unknowingly working for a mad captain.”

“I don’t know about ‘unknowingly’ Captain Kirk….”, Uhura smiles at him, before retracting her own hand. “But understood. I just hope your P.O.V members come through, like you say… you said they were in their quarters, yes?”

Just as Jim nods, Spock interjects:

“Actually, Miss Meeriana is currently in the sickbay, Captain… or at least, that was where I last saw her.”

“Sickbay?”, Jim turns to Spock, suddenly alarmed. “Is she okay?”

“Her physical wellbeing has not changed in any noticeable way since boarding, Jim.”

“Then why…”

“I believe the good doctor, in his own words, tricked her into reporting to sickbay. When I left them, I believe he was once again threatening to heal her wounds.”

“Wounds?”, Uhura looks between the two of them, disconcerted. “She's injured?”

“Well, yes, but…”, Jim sighs, as he stands up from his desk and heads towards the door. “You know what? I’ll tell you on the way, lieutenant. You might as well meet her before I drag you along on this ridiculous scheme of ours…”

Chapter Text

As they enter the sickbay, they hear them before they see them:

“… if you don’t back away now, little man…”

“Look, just let me scan you again, show you what I’m talking about… the long-term health conditions…”

“Get away with that thing!”

“Just… let me fix that eye at least, please! Should only take a day’s recovery, tops…”

“If you don’t quit bothering me, you’re gonna lose an eye!”

Him, Spock and Uhura freeze as they’re greeted with the sight of Meeriana and Bones circling each other around an examination table in defensive stances, Bones with his tricorder in hand and Meerina with her fists clenched. Neither seem to have noticed the latest visitors to the sickbay so Jim coughs to get their attention:

“Uh… hello? Am I interrupting something?”

“Kirk!”, Meeriana exclaims, spinning around, relief evident in her face. “Can you tell this guy to leave me the hell…”, she pauses when she suddenly notices Uhura, who is also regarding her curiously. She looks over at Jim, raising her eyebrow questioningly.

Jim coughs again:

“Ah yes… may I introduce Lieutenant Uhura, my communications officer. She will be accompanying me on the talks tomorrow… and she now is also in our inner circle.”

“By inner circle, you mean….”

“That he’s told me everything, yes.”, Uhura says, walking forward and sticking her hand out. “Lovely to meet you, Miss Meeriana!”

Meeriana takes her hand, after hesitating briefly, and firmly shakes it, looking her up and down:

“Charmed, I’m sure… hope you’re easier to work with than the doctor here.”

“I assure you, I am.”, Uhura chuckles, grinning mischievously, her eyes wandering down to her toned arms. “Those are some beautiful tattoos you’ve got there…”

“Thanks… old war veteran did them for me. Had the steadiest hands in the world, despite his alcohol dependency.”

“You know, I’ve researched Vallen history, but there’s quite a few symbols I don’t recognise here…”

“Yeah, the royal family deliberately represses any records of Vallen society thriving before their takeover… these markings here are for the Jelza tribe, the last group of warriors to successfully protect the capital from colonialists.”

“Fascinating… tell me, where can I….”

“Ladies…”, Jim interrupts, standing between the two women. “As nice as it is to chat, I thought it would be good to get the lieutenant up to speed with our plans?”

“You can vouch for her, Jim?”, Meeriana says, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Same way you could vouch for the doctor?”

“Hey, I said he was trustworthy, not easy to get along with…”

“Watch it, Jim.”, Bones mutters, shaking his head at him. “I’m just trying to help her out here! If she wasn’t so bloody stubborn about seeking medical assistance…”

“Bones…”, Jim says gently, putting his hand out. “Just drop it. Please. If Meeriana doesn’t want to be treated, she doesn’t have to be. It’s not like she’s crew; you can’t just pull rank on her. And I don’t need you two having fisticuffs in the middle of the sickbay- that’ll draw more attention than we need. Now…”, Jim looks back at the two women, handing them a PADD. “Meeriana, that should have all the schematics of the castle on there, along with the guard rotations… would you mind taking Uhura through it? And answer any questions she might have…”

“Aye, aye Captain…”, Meeriana mocks salutes before walking over to the other side of the room towards a desk, Uhura in tow.

Jim turns back to Bones who is still fixing him with a scowl.

“I still think she needs that eye seen to… how she gets around seeing half the world in black and white, I’ll never know…”

“Spock says you wanted to see me, doctor?”, Jim cuts him off, leaning against the examination table, arms crossed casually.

“Ah, yes, right… Jim, I need you to take a quick psychological exam. Make sure you can handle being back on duty tomorrow…”

“I’m fine Bones… but sure, I’ll do it. Shouldn’t take more than an hour, right?”

“Correct, I’ll pencil something in this afternoon for you…. also, I wanted to check if you think you’ll need another sleeping aid tonight or not?”

Jim is about to say no, but then he hesitates, thinking back to that first night after getting his memories recovered- what if the nightmares came back? Or he spent the whole night paralysed with dread, unable to repress the traumatic images plaguing his mind?

Seeing his hesitation, Bones just sighs.

“Okay… how about I just give you a pill now, and you can decide later if you need it or not? I’d rather you didn’t lose sleep tonight, Jim- big day tomorrow…”

“Yes, yes, that sounds fine, Bones… quit being a mother hen…”, Jim mutters, waving him off. “Besides, Uhura will keep me out of trouble…”

“And me.”, Bones says shortly, handing him a small tablet. “You’re not leaving me behind, all bored in sickbay.”

Jim stares at him.

“I thought you said there was no way in hell you were coming? That it was a stupid plan…”

“I don’t think those were my exact words…”

“No, but they were to the same effect, doctor.”, Spock says primly, raising his eyebrow at him.

“Look, I’ve thought it over and if you manage to get roughed up somehow, you’ll need a doctor on hand… and I’m not dragging any of our ensigns or M’Benga into this. Besides, with Miss Uhura on board now, she can handle the hobnobbing side of things, while I pay attention to the buffet…”

“Aw, Bones…”, Jim smiles at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “… you do care!”

“Ugh, get off…”, Bones mutters, shoving him away. “Say what you want about hobgoblin, but at least he isn’t all touchy-feely…”

“Maybe not with you, Bones…”

“Don’t make me puke, Kirk- just had my lunch.”

“Anyway, speaking of you, Spock…”, Jim grins over at him. “… I talked to Kol, and I think he’ll be meeting up with you and Admiral Una tomorrow.”

“You think Captain?”, Spock asks sceptically.

“Well, okay, when I asked if he’d help us, he said no, but I get the feeling he’ll show up anyway… for curiosity’s sake if nothing.”

“I see…”, Spock mutters, a displeased expression on his face. “Jim, I still believe it is a mistake involving this young man: he seems most reckless, and this matter requires a delicate hand.”

“I hear you, Spock… but I think he’s more capable than you think. Meeriana certainly seems convinced of his skills… and if you’re still not, you can always send him off with a flea in his ear- it’s up to you after all.”

Spock cocks his head curiously at him.

“Flea in his ear? Just when I thought I’d heard of every Terran idiom…”

“What can I say? We’re creative people.”, Jim shrugs, still smiling at him as he ruffles his hair a little, causing him to raise his eyebrow even further. “Besides, we’ll need all the help we can get tomorrow… no matter how annoying you might find them.”

“I am not annoyed, Captain…”

“Jealous then? Because don’t worry about that, he made it clear he doesn’t care for me… not sure why, I thought I was quite courteous to him when we last met.”

“I would not worry about his opinion on such matters, Jim- in fact, I believe you should find his distaste for you a compliment.”

“Why Mr. Spock, you do say the sweetest things…”

“Okay, enough you two!”, Bones snaps. “Jim, your psychological assessment is at three- and don’t go faking your answers for the computer this time around, I will know! Don’t think I’m above keeping you on medical leave tomorrow if I deem it necessary…”

“Yes, Bones, I know- you always make good on your threats… you can go back to your duties now. You too, Mr. Spock.”, Jim smiles over at his first officer, putting their two fingers together. “I’m sure they’re missing you over on the bridge… poor Scotty has been in the captain’s chair most of this week, it feels like.”

“He has complained as much, yes Captain.”, Spock replies, curling his fingers around his, causing Bones to roll his eyes at the two of them. “I will find you later, then?”

“Affirmative.”, Jim smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips against his…

… and just at that exact moment, the sickbay doors fly open, and two figures stumble in: Lieutenant Sulu, who is currently supporting the weight of a very pale Commander Scott, who is hobbling around on one foot. Jim and Spock break apart, but from the lieutenant’s raised eyebrow, it’s too late.

“Well, well…”, Sulu grins, gesturing over at the two of them and Uhura, who is just gaping away in the corner, sat at a desk with Meeriana. “You two finally decided to come clean?”

Jim stares at him, gobsmacked.

“Wait- you knew?!”

Sulu’s eyes roll back into the back of his head as he helps Scotty shuffle forward, who is swearing profusely under his breath.

“Captain, with all due respect… everyone knows. You two aren’t as subtle as you like to think…”

“Wait…”, Uhura frowns over at him, whilst Bones helps Sulu lift Scotty onto the examination table. “What do you mean? I only found out the other day!”

“Wait? Seriously?”, Sulu says, staring over at her. “I thought you were just play-acting that you didn’t know… like, that was the joke, because they were so obvious.”

“No!”, she exclaims exasperatedly. “All this time, and you knew?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, quite frankly, I didn’t find it very interesting… besides, it’s not like I’m the only one. The doctor here clearly knew, and he’s never mentioned it…”

“I only found out last weekend, lieutenant…”, Bones mutters, running a tricorder over a groaning Scotty’s leg. “Now, what happened here, commander?”

“That blasted step on the bridge, doctor! Don’t even know why we have that step… anyway, forgot about it, misjudged the drop-down, landed badly… feels like just a sprain, but I haven’t had my lunch yet, and I started feeling woozy…”

“Okay, Scotty, shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to heal… I’m just going to move your leg onto the table, okay?”

“Scotty!”, Sulu interjects, pointing over at Jim and Spock. “You knew the captain and Mr. Spock were involved, yes?”

“Aye.”, Scotty nods, flinching as the doctor straightens his leg out. “Though I only found out a couple of days ago- came as quite a shock to be honest. I never suspected…”

“Wait.”, Jim stares at him, wide-eyed. “How do you know?!”

“One of the engineering ensigns reported that one of the turbolifts had been stalled for an inordinate amount of time, sir- I checked the cameras, in case there were people stuck in there, and that’s when I saw you and Mr. Spock here engaging in an affectionate manner. Don’t worry sir…”, Scotty says in a reassuring tone, when he sees the captain’s horrified expression. “I told the ensign to keep it under her hat- she’s a good lass, not one for gossip, I assure you…”

“Oh, dear god…”, Jim groans, rubbing the side of his temple, a migraine threatening to manifest again.

“I must ask, Captain, that you do not stall lifts for non-emergency reasons in future… there’s enough backlog with people moving across the ship as is…”

“Okay, okay, Scotty… I’ll keep that in mind…”

“Wait, seriously, none of you knew until this week?”, Sulu says, staring around at all of them. “Jeez guys, the captain here has been giving Mr. Spock the moony eyes for years now…”

“Me and the captain have been engaged in romantic and sexual relations only a year now, lieutenant.”, Spock informs the lieutenant, his tone as neutral ever.

“Spock!”, Jim hisses, his face reddening to a deep crimson from embarrassment.

“It’s only been a year?!”, Sulu exclaims in disbelief. “Damn, surprised the captain was able to practice that much self-restraint…”

“Watch it, lieutenant…”, Jim says sternly. “I’m still your superior…”

“Apologies, Captain Vulcan-Lover.”, Sulu says dryly, rolling his eyes again, before his face suddenly brightens at some realisation. “Wait, does this mean Chekov doesn’t know either? Oh boy, he’s going to be so mad when he finds out he’s the last to know…”

“You aren’t telling him anything!”

“Yes, well, not yet Captain… I have to find the perfect time…”

“Not without my permission, lieutenant! Christ almighty, I need at least one member of my bridge crew who doesn’t know about us…”

“Speaking of the bridge, Captain… mind if I take command tomorrow? I think poor Scotty here has had enough this week…”

“Yes, yes!”, Jim says, waving his hands at him. “You have command of the bridge tomorrow Mr. Sulu…”

“Thank you, sir…”, Scotty mutters weakly from the examination table, his leg nearly fixed now. “I won’t lie, I have been missing the engineering rooms... tell me, will we finally be leaving orbit once these last rounds of talks are over? My team are getting a bit restless now….”

“I believe so, Mr. Scott. Long as we don’t run into any further…” he catches Spock’s eye a moment, his expression softening slightly. “… complications.”

“Aye, that’s good sir… I won’t lie, being docked has allowed my team to rejuvenate themselves a little, but I think we’re all ready to get back out there- back on the mission and all that.”

“Agreed Scotty.”, Sulu nods sagely, before gazing over in Uhura and Meeriana’s direction. “Hey.”, he says, addressing Meeriana directly. “Chekov said he had to go on some top-secret mission to collect a Federation secret agent- that you, I assume?”

Meeriana gives him a little smirk.

“No comment…”

“Fair.”, Sulu grins back at her, tapping the side of his nose. “I shan’t say anything… unlike Chekov. He didn’t exactly take much prodding to get the information out of him…”

“Yes, well, as you say, keep it to yourself, lieutenant.”, Jim sighs, giving Sulu the evil eye. “Was there anything else you needed, or…”

“Ah yes, captain… I’m going to put in a request for annual leave four months from now. I hope that’s acceptable?”

“I… suppose?”, Jim frowns at him. “For any particular reason, or just pleasure?”

“I’m getting married, sir… so I suppose both.”

“Wait, what?”, Jim stares at him. “Since when are you engaged?”

“Since two years ago, Captain.”, Sulu replies, raising an eyebrow at him. “Plenty of other people knew…”

“But you never told me.”

“Yes, well, you never showed an interest.”, Sulu shrugs, glancing around at everyone else. “Open invitation to other crew members of course, but I understand if you can’t take the time off… it’ll only be a small ceremony anyway- neither me or Ben have large families.”

“Aye, I’ll go if I can, lieutenant.”, Scotty nods, pushing himself down from the examination table and stretching out his ankle a little. “If I can get the time off of course… be a good excuse to get my kilt out anyway. Haven’t been a wedding in so long, I kind of miss it… do you suppose you and Mr. Spock will get hitched once the mission’s ended Captain?”

Jim is so taken aback by this question, he finds himself just spluttering and stuttering, his eyes begging Spock for help:

“Well, I suppose… we’ve never really… talked about that per se… I mean, we have, but… it’s never been quite the right….”

“We have no immediate plans to officiate our bond through a Terran or Vulcan form of matrimony, commander.”, Spock answers promptly. “For now, the mission takes precedence- our bond does not require any formal form of documentation to legitimise it for now. That may change once the five years is complete, but no discussion on such matters has been had yet.”

“Ah, a pity.”, Scotty says, his face falling. “Having a wedding on board the Enterprise might’ve been a nice event, especially between a captain and first officer…”

“Perhaps, Mr Scott, but it would’ve also been a distraction from people’s duties. Now…”, Spock cocks his eyebrow at the two men. “May we proceed back to the bridge, Mr Sulu? Mr Scott, I now relieve you of command…”

“Thank you, sir.”, Scotty beams at him, walking over towards the door, a spring in his step. “I’m looking forward to getting back to maintaining our silver lady!”

“Nice to see you, Captain.”, Sulu salutes, before also heading towards the door with Spock, a cheeky grin on his face. “You’re looking better today, by the way, less stressed… did our science officer give you one of his famous Vulcan massages?”

“Go throw yourself out the airlock, Sulu.”

“Charming, Captain.”, Sulu chuckles before the door swishes closed, leaving Jim alone with the two women and Bones. Uhura looks somewhat sympathetic while Meeriana and Bones are unable to hide their amusement at the whole situation. Bones in particular is grinning ear to ear, looking remarkably like a cat who just got the cream.

“Well, Jim…”, he drawls, whilst putting away his medical equipment. “… have you learnt your lesson about excessive PDA yet? Or do we need to send more crewmembers through here to witness the glorious sight of you and your first officer exchanging air?”

“Not another word Bones.”, Jim mutters, putting a finger up before also making his way towards the exit, suddenly feeling very tired. “Not another word….”

Chapter Text

“… so it looks like ten in the morning, standard time, for arrival, with half an hour before that for drinks and general mingling in the main hall and… Spock, are you listening to me?”, Jim says, putting his PADD down with the day’s itinerary on, and staring over at his Vulcan first officer, who is lying next to him underneath the sheets, equally as naked as himself. They had both awoken early and were using the extra hours to go over their respective plans, but Spock seemed oddly distracted, his eyes not quite reaching Jim’s.

“I am listening, Captain. I am simply… committing it all to memory.”, he replies, a slight falseness to his tone that Jim very much recognises- when something wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Spock…”, Jim mutters, drawing his eyebrows together. “I can feel your emotions from here- mind meld or no. What’s up?”

“… there is nothing amiss, Captain.”

“Jim. And quit holding back on me- you know I hate that.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”, Jim insists, shifting in bed slightly and accidentally brushing his legs against Spock’s- a sudden subtle wave of emotion flows through him, and he frowns: “Spock, I feel guilt from you- this isn’t about last night still, is it?”

He doesn’t respond, and that’s all the confirmation Jim needs.

“Jeez, Spock, I told you last night, I wanted it! And it was wonderful, I have no regrets about it. Besides, we had sex the first night after it happened, and you weren’t this morose…”

“Your memories had not been recovered at that point, Jim. I… saw your mind wander back to that night, to what happened, how it distressed you…”

“… okay, yes, my mind did wander there a few times, it was fairly inevitable… but it was brief, Spock! You must’ve also seen how happy I was, how relieved I felt to have you touching me that way again…”

“… while the release of serotonin and dopamine has short-term benefits, Jim, the potential for long-term harm to your emotional well-being… I acted against your best interests, because I desired you, desired to feel your body and mind again. I allowed myself a moment of weakness, selfishness…”

“You are not weak- or selfish for that matter, Spock!”, Jim exclaims, frustrated now. “Christ, I told the other night, there’s no right way of going about this! But for me, I know, being with you, like this… it’s important to me! What happened to me the other night… it was a complete perversion of sex; the main reason it was so scary is because I could barely recognise myself in that beast. For me to heal, I need… I need… to create new memories, to remind myself of what it’s supposed to be… to perform the act, clear-headed and in control of myself. To feel your love, your care, to feel your mind and body touch my own, my t’hy’la…”, Jim takes a deep breath, cupping Spock’s face in his hands. “Spock, last night was healing for me… of course, the scars are still there, but they’ll fade with time. And I’ll recover faster with you by my side… I know you’d never pressure me into anything I didn’t want to do, and I’d hate for you to think of yourself as someone who would!”

“Jim…”, Spock murmurs, his black eyes staring over at him, his voice low and breathy. “Forgive me, I did not mean to overthink this. I simply… do not know how to navigate such a situation. I worry… that my emotional attachment to you is hindering my ability to think rationally. I too… enjoyed last night, greatly. But… in the early morning light, it is difficult not to have doubts.”

“… I understand, Spock.”, Jim smiles at him softly, squeezing his fingers, sending comforting waves through his skin. “I can’t say if I was in your exact situation, I wouldn’t feel exactly the same way. I…”, Jim shakes his head, shuddering. “… the idea of someone taking advantage of you like that… it’s unbearable to even imagine.”

“Then do not imagine such a thing, Jim.”

“Sound advice, Mr. Spock.”, Jim whispers, pecking him on the cheek. “Look, I know my words may be insufficient for alleviating your guilt, but for my sake… please stop torturing yourself, okay? We agreed to be straight-forward with each other about how we’re feeling and I’m going to hold you to that- so no pretending you’re okay when you’re not, alright? I can always tell when something’s a little off… even if most humans can’t.”

“… you and Miss Uhura do have an uncanny ability to read the subtle changes in Vulcan expressions, yes.”

“Well, in my case, it’s just one Vulcan… anyway, you want to go through the rest of this itinerary?”

“Yes, Captain.”

With that, him and Spock continue to read through the document together, Spock reading just a little faster than Jim but he does not complain as he waits for Jim to turn the page. When they finally get to the seating arrangements, Jim can’t help but let out a groan:

“God, I’m seated right across from her again. And Captain Perkins of the USS Darwin to my right… what a double whammy…”

“I was not aware you and Captain Perkins had an antagonistic relationship, Jim.”, Spock says, raising a curious eyebrow.

“We don’t! He’s always been perfectly nice to me, overly polite even. It’s just…”, Jim sighs, running a hand through his hair. “… I can’t help but always feel inadequate in front of him. My nerves are going to be bad enough as it is today…”

“Inadequate?”, Spock says, cocking his head at him. “In what respect? You are both of equal ranking within Starfleet, are you not?”

“Well, yes, technically, but… the man is so accomplished, absurdly so! He got into university at age twelve and has obtained six PhDs since then! Not only that, he decided to go the command route fairly late into his career and managed to become one of the most decorated captains in the fleet! He was something of a legend when I was at the academy, I still remember when he came to do one of his talks on warp power, and how good a public speaker he was… it’s like he’s good at anything he puts his mind to! And I can’t help but feel… jealous, I suppose. He makes it all look so easy…”

“Jim, may I remind you, that you were first in your year at the academy… and you still hold the record for the youngest captain in the entire fleet. Regardless, Perkin’s accomplishments do not detract from your own…”

“And I know that, Spock! It’s just… I’m human, you now? I’m insecure, petty, illogical…”, Jim sighs again, staring up at the ceiling. “Doesn’t help he’s very handsome also… aging like a fine wine that man, while the rest of us regular humans spoil like milk, the way nature intended…”

Spock frowns at him.

“I do not like that Terran expression, Jim… it is inaccurate, regardless. And I will say I have never found Captain Perkins especially attractive myself…”

“Glad to hear it, Spock.”, Jim smiles, rubbing his shoulder a little before smirking wickedly. “Though I must say, I have picked up on a lot of tension between you and that Bajoran young man… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone get under your skin like that. Like, I know you thought he was flirting with me, but you must know he isn’t my type…”

“… I am glad to hear that, Captain.”, Spock mutters, barely hiding his annoyance.

“… though I must say, he does seem to be your type.”, Jim chuckles, waggling his eyebrows and flexing his arm a little, causing Spock to simply gaze at him disdainfully. “You know… young, blonde, hunky?”

“My response to that, Captain…”, Spock says cooly, raising his brows. “… is that your theory is rather flawed, since you are neither that young, nor that blonde any longer.”

“Ouch, Spock! You wound me!”, Jim mock gasps, clutching his chest a little.

“It was not meant to be taken as offence, Jim… simply you are older than when we first met, and your hair has darkened significantly these past few years.” Spock emphasises his point by running his hand through his wavy locks. “In fact, I would say it is closer to brunette nowadays… and much more curlier.”

“Yeah, I really need a haircut…”, Jim says, pulling a face. “And more product…”

“I rather like the change, Jim… but of course, whatever you choose to do with your appearance is up to you.”, Spock says, removing his hand from his head. “I did not know you disliked such changes… I find them rather fascinating. Vulcan’s physical appearance tend to remain fairly static much of their lives, only showing significant signs of their age towards the end...”

“Yes, I know that, Spock…”, Jim mutters, thinking back to their unfortunate visit to Gamma Hydra IV. “… it’s just that… I guess I just dislike change altogether. Constant reminder I’m getting older…”

Spock frowns over at him, putting a hand over his chest and brushing the soft hairs there.

“Is that so bad, ashayam?”, Spock whispers, his warm breath tickling Jim’s neck. “Surely it is a good thing, no? That we have the privilege of growing older, after everything we’ve faced together?”

Jim blushes, ashamed of his own shallowness now.

“Of course, Spock, it’s just… well, it’s stupid really…”

“Nothing you feel would be stupid, t’hy’la.”

“Wanna bet?”, Jim smiles, but this time it isn’t very genuine. “Look Spock, partly my insecurity about aging is just a vanity thing… I never felt attractive during my teenage years, since starvation really took a toll on my body for years, even with modern medicine, and I only had a couple of serious romances during my academy days, and I was never exactly the best boyfriend- I was way too focussed on my studies…”

“Logical- in my opinion.”

“Why, thank you… but anyway, as a young person, my entire sense of self-worth came from my intellect… and once I was out of academia, I realised people were desiring me for my looks… and I mean, I know it sounds big-headed, but it felt good, you know? To have people wanting you like that, even it was just purely aesthetically. It was… a real ego-boost, and I really needed that at the time, what with the pressures of my first missions as an ensign and all. Suddenly I realised that being a smart-ass didn’t count for much when you were staring down certain death in the field of duty, and I… dealt with that stress by dating. And sleeping around. A lot. With both colleagues and civilians… and I gained a certain reputation for myself, I suppose…”

“Jim, your perceived promiscuity is nothing for you to be ashamed of… indeed, having many sexual partners is a point of pride in many cultures.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Spock.”, Jim whispers, continuing to stroke his arm. “And I’m not ashamed of it… well, mostly. There are plenty of encounters I wish I could wipe from my memory… but I’ve told you about them before. Anway, the point is, my relative attractiveness became attached to my sense of self-worth, and as my looks fade, well…”, Jim grimaces, turning his face away a little. “… well, you get the picture. I know it shouldn’t matter to me, because I don’t want to be with anyone but you now, and you’ll love me no matter what I look like, but… I can’t help but mourn my youth. Even if most of the confidence I put on during that time was mostly a façade, hiding deeper insecurities…”, Jim stops himself, shaking his head a little. “Sorry, I’m getting pretentious about this. Point is, it’s partly just vanity, same as most humans. But also, I really dislike my visible aging, because, well…”, he sighs as he brushes the bangs out of Spock's eyes, gazing into his black pools. “… well, it’s just a reminder that, most likely, I’m not going to live as long as you. The most humans get is one-hundred and twenty years and you’ll live for another eighty years after that and I…”, Jim shudders again, resting his head of Spock’s chest. “… I hate to think of leaving you behind… especially now that I’ve mind-melded with you, I’ve felt the depth of how much you feel, and I…. I can’t stand it. Maybe you’d find another bond mate, someone who would ease the pain, but knowing how stubborn you are, you’d probably spend the rest of your life mourning, refusing to let anyone else in as some kind of misguided attempt at loyalty…”

“T’hy’la…”, Spock whispers softly, and it takes everything in Jim not to break down into tears then and there. “There have been so many times these last few years where I felt I’d lost you forever… and as much as a toll it’s taken on me, even if that day was the last one where I’d ever see you, I would not give up having met you for the world. The universe, even… it does not matter how long or short our time is together, every day, every hour, every minute I get to spend with you is a privilege- one that I almost feel unworthy of. Truly, I did not know it was possible for someone to ever care for me like this…”

“Spock.”, Jim whispers, letting the tears flow freely now. “I am the one who is unworthy! That I would be able to meet you in this lifetime, to have you as my friend, lover and soulmate… well, I might be the luckiest man in the history of existence.”

“… you know I don’t believe in luck, Jim.”

“But you once said I almost made you believe in it?”, Jim smiles up at him, kissing him on the cheek again.

“Indeed.”, Spock says, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards ever so slightly. “Truly, a sign of madness…”

At this, Jim simply laughs and kisses him fully on the mouth, and Spock happily reciprocates, intertwining his own legs against his, the feeling of cool skin on hot glorious and relieving…

… but before they can get too carried away, the alarm starts going off and Jim sighs into Spock’s shoulder, a smile still on his face:

“Ah, interrupted by the bell… probably for the best, we can pick this up tonight if we still have energy left. Better get dressed now…”

With that, Jim throws off the sheets and starts walking himself, still naked, over to the wardrobe, looking over his identical set of formal uniforms, studying them carefully for any hidden stains. He’s aware of Spock’s eyes still being trained upon him, whether with admiration or concern, it was hard to say. Suddenly, he feels the Vulcan’s presence at his back and gasps slightly when he wraps his arms around his bare torso, resting his sharp chin against his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

“Please be careful today, ashayam.”, Spock whispers, his breath tickling his skin, making him shiver. “I understand your need for justice, but these are powerful people we’re working against… please do not risk your life unnecessarily.”

“Have you ever known me to do so, commander?”, Jim smiles back at him, leaning back into his embrace and running his fingers against Spock’s slender digits.

“… is that a rhetorical question, Captain? Because you have clearly done so many times, much to my disapproval…”

“Yes, Spock, it is… and I promise you I won’t do anything reckless. But you have to make that promise too…”

“I promise, Jim…”, Spock mutters, tightening the grip around his torso and burying his face into his skin. “… though I do believe my mission poses far less a danger than yours…”

“I should hope so, Spock…”, Jim says, raising his knuckles up to his face and gently kissing them, causing the Vulcan to give a soft gasp. “… but I know you have a tendency to get yourself into hot water.”

He can practically feel the quizzical eyebrow raise on his shoulder and laughs slightly.

“Sorry, another weird Terran term…”

“I see…”, Spock says, loosening his grip on him slightly. “Well, all I can say to that Captain... is that I will endeavour to stay out of hot water… and I hope you will do the same.”

“Hey.”, Jim says firmly, holding his hand so he doesn’t pull away. “I’ll be with my security team, Bones and Uhura, and all three of us know what to look out for this time. Long as we’re careful, what could go wrong?”

Spock gives him a look as if to say: ‘are you serious?’ and Jim responds by simply giving him one last peck on the nose.

Time to get some clothes on…

Chapter Text

“Dear god, I hate these collars…”, Bones grumbles on the way to the transporter room, pulling at the neck of said collar as he went. “What is it with Starfleet and them refusing to fork out for decent formal uniforms?”

“Think we got much bigger problems with Starfleet right now, Bones.”, Jim counters back grimly, readjusting the hem of his own uniform. He could’ve sworn it hadn’t fit so snug last time- maybe a laundry error? “Anyway, at least it’s just a day this time… by the end of the afternoon, you can go back to sticking people with needles or whatever else you do for fun.”

“Jim, by the time I get through today with the talks and all your spying nonsense, all I’ll be wanting is a stuff drink.”, Bones says glumly as they make their way through the doors, the two men nodding over at Scotty who is manning the transporter today. Two security ensigns are stationed near the transporter, but there is still no sign of Uhura yet.

“Scotty!”, Jim exclaims, sidling over next to him. “Foot all good today?”

“Aye, sir.”, Scotty smiles at him whilst adjusting something on the panel. “Right as rain now, thanks to the good doctor here… am I right in thinking there will be five of you transporting down today, captain?”

“Yes, that’s correct. We’re just waiting for the lieutenant now. Hopefully she’ll be here any…”

Just then the door swishes open, and Uhura walks in arm-in-arm with Meeriana, the two of them chatting away whilst Spock follows close behind, his expression unreadable. Jim smiles over at him and his eyes soften slightly, before walking over to him and Scotty.

“Captain, I thought it prudent I see you off before I depart by shuttle for Cermat 7. I have ensured Lieutenant Sulu has all the reports he needs to effectively run the bridge in our absence. If you have any messages for the lieutenant before we depart, then now would be the time to pass them on.”

“Thank you, Mr Spock, but I think we’re good now.”, Jim smiles brightly, glancing back at the security guards who weren’t looking in their direction, but it was hard not to feel watched. “Please, enjoy your day off.”

“I will, Captain.”, Spock replies shortly, before subtly brushing his finger against a bare bit of wrist:

‘Please be careful, t’hy’la.’

‘Always am… good luck with the admiral today, Spock. I know it’s a long shot, but… hopefully we’ll both get something out of today.’

‘That is my hope too, Jim.’

‘See you tonight… love you.’

‘The sentiment is very much reciprocated.’

With one last warm gaze, Spock retracts his fingers from his wrist and bows shortly. He turns on his heel and makes his way out of the room, Jim staring at his back until he disappears from view, already missing the feeling of his touch. He turns his attention back to the others in the room, in particular Meeriana and Uhura, who are still chatting away like old friends. Uhura is dressed in her formal uniform, a form-fitting red dress and blazer with gold adornments, medals pinned to her lapel, and her hair arranged in elaborate, sweeping curls. The lieutenant always looked good of course, but she did look particularly stunning today, and Jim didn’t miss the slight blush in Meeriana’s cheeks as Uhura lays her hand on her shoulder, laughing at presumably something she just said.

He walks up to the two women, grinning:

“Looks like you two ladies are getting on like a house on fire!”

“Indeed, Captain.”, Uhura smiles back at him, taking her hand off Meeriana’s shoulder. “This young lady has a quite a few stories, let me tell you… don’t think I’ll be able to look at half of Vallen’s parliamentarians without giggling, knowing what I do now! But I will do my best to restrain myself, rest assured…”

“I have no doubt, lieutenant.”, Jim continues to smile before nodding over at their blue-skinned companion. “Meeriana, we’ll be heading off in a few minutes, once Scotty has the coordinates corrected… mind if I just go over a few minor details with you before we leave?”

“Sure, Kirk.”, she shrugs, folding her arms across her chest. “What’s on your mind?”

Jim glances over at Uhura, who immediately gets the hint.

“Oh, that reminds me, I need to check my messages before I leave…”, she smiles, before quickly walking over to the other side of the room, communicator in hand.

Meeriana frowns after her, a little confused by the sudden departure, before turning back to Jim:

“Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”, Jim reassures her. “Just that…  I wanted to make a request of you. One that the lieutenant and Bones might not approve of.”

“A request?”

“Yes… that bunker you told us about. I want you to give me the key to it.”

Meeriana’s eyes widen, and her hand automatically goes to her chest, where the outline of a necklace was barely visible under the fabric of her vest.

“Kirk, I told you… she knows I know about it. It’s too risky... and I doubt there’s anything of interest in there.”

“I know… but I’m still intrigued by it. And besides, my tricorder can scan for traps and lifeforms… first sign something’s amiss, I’m out of there.”

Meeriana just shakes her head at him.

“Kirk, I’m sorry, I can’t… I’m already asking too much of you. I won’t be responsible for you taking on such a risk.”

“You asked nothing of me- I volunteered. And I promise I won’t go down to the bunker unless I’m unable to find anything of interest in the other restricted areas. I just want to make sure I have as much access as possible, that I don’t miss anything crucial…”

But she just shakes her head again, her clawed hands grasping her scarred arms, a distressed look on her face.

“Meeriana…”, he whispers, his voice low and intense. “In a few days’ time, the Enterprise will be back on course for its mission- it’ll likely be years before I find myself in this corner of the galaxy again. Today might be our best shot in a long time to dig up some substantial dirt on the royals… we can’t afford to miss anything, not when our window of opportunity is so slim.”

She still doesn’t look convinced, so Jim goes for the jugular:

“Think of what she did to you- everything she took from you.”, Jim says firmly, a feeling of guilt welling up inside his chest, but he swallows it for now. “Do you really want the opportunity for revenge… justice even, to slip out of your hands again?”

Meeriana’s expression hardens, and immediately he knows he’s gotten to her. She undoes the clasp around her neck and gently places the pendant into his outstretched palm, all light gone from her eyes now.

“Do what you must, Kirk- just remember I told you so if this goes tits up.”, she mutters, sticking her hands in her pocket as she scowls down at the silver object. “Don’t even know why I kept the damn thing to be honest… a messed up sense of sentimentality, maybe? Well, maybe if I don’t carry it any longer, she’ll have less power over me…”

She looks up at Kirk, who is staring at her with concerned eyes, but she just smiles reassuringly.

“Oh, don’t mind me, Captain… just help me take down this bitch and the rest of her family, and I can die a happy woman.”

“I’ll certainly give it my best shot.”, Jim smiles back at her, putting the chain around his own neck and pushing it under his collar. He glances over at the transporter platform, which is now beginning to light up. “Well, looks like we’re ready to go now… wish us luck!”

“Yeah, good luck Kirk! Uhura…”, she says, inclining her head at the lieutenant who gives her a little wave from the platform. Lastly, she glances over at Bones and gives him a one-fingered salute: “… and you, rude little man.”

“By the time we get back, I expect you to have chosen a new eyeball out of that catalogue I sent you this morning.”, Bones growls at her, a glare on his face.

She simply rolls her one good eye, while Jim wanders onto the platform, chuckling softly to himself before facing forward, setting his face into a suitably stoic expression.

“Okay, Scotty- think we’re ready to beam down now.”

"Aye, sir."

There's a familiar whooshing noise and the sight of the transport room disappears before them in a flash of light.

*****************************************************************************************

“Is it just me…”, Bones frowns at the massive blue crowd gathered outside the palace gates, cameras flashing and people shouting and pushing. “… or are there more reporters here than last time?”

“Clearly, these talks don’t have quite the same level of secrecy as last weekend’s talks did.”, Uhura sighs, putting on a pair of sunglasses to protect her eyes from the flashing. “Likely by design… I imagine the princess is enjoying the opportunity for extra publicity. She may have even allowed a few approved journalists and photographers inside the palace to report on the proceedings.”

“Great.”, Jim mutters, trying his best to set his face into a neutral expression, lest someone snap a picture of him scowling. Bones, evidently, does not seem to share that fear, looking just as grumpy as ever. “So it’s not just guards I’ll have to navigate around today, but the press…”

“Think of it this way, Captain…”, Uhura says, straightening her back a little as their security personnel guides them through the crowd. “… perhaps the princess will be so busy talking to the press, she’ll forget all about you today.”

“… that’s certainly an optimistic way of looking at it, Uhura.”

“Hey, one of us has to think positive around here. It’s certainly not going to be the good doctor, here…”

“Okay, who decided it was ‘bully McCoy’ day, anyway?”, Bones scowls at her, snarling when someone sticks their tripod right in his face, immediately pushing back at them. “Hey, watch it!”

“Oh boy, can’t wait to see the headlines tomorrow, Bones!”, Jim laughs at his friend. “ ‘Country doctor assaults photographer, read all about it..’”

“Captain!! Captain Kirk!”, someone suddenly screeches in his face, startling him. They seem to be the only non-Vallen he can see in the heaving crowd, an Andorian woman with severe bangs and very glittery eye makeup, wearing a suit jacket with a plunging neckline and several chunky necklaces. She jumps straight in front of them, blocking their path and their security ensigns immediately stand to attention, ready to remove her, but Uhura puts a hand up, stopping them, an urgent look on her face.

“This is T’halia Jinx!”, she hisses behind her hand. “Biggest entertainment reporter in the known galaxy, works for the Federation Network… her viewing figures are in the trillions! So… maybe try to stay on her good side, okay?”

Jim nods in understanding, the reporter’s face vaguely familiar to him now- he wasn’t one for that sort of gossip-peddling, but he had seen those channels flickering on the screens in the mess hall and relaxation room, many of the yeomans and ensigns watching intently during their lunch hours. He gives T’halia his winning smile and she responds immediately by giggling and fluttering her eyelashes at him:

“Captain Kirk! The man who’s always talked about but rarely talked to! How does it feel to take a break from the five-year mission, to be amongst us civilians again?”

“Well, T’halia…”, Jim chuckles, hoping he looks more relaxed than he feels. “… I would say while me and my crew appreciate the break, I think I can speak for all of us when I say we can’t wait to get back out there and…”

“Captain Kirk, there’s been mutterings lately about love blossoming between you and the Princess Regent!”, she interrupts abruptly, shoving her recorder into his face, so close he almost went cross-eyed. “Care to comment?! Could we be expecting a royal wedding in the future?”

Jim stares at her, at a loss for words, a sick feeling in his stomach, but he does his very best to recover:

“I… er… have great regard for Princess Feronzi, but the nature of our… acquaintance, as it was, is purely professional. Any rumours to the contrary, I can assure you, are quite false…”

“Indeed?”, T’halia says, a disappointed look on her face before that almost psychotic look of glee returns: “But of course, our viewers are wanting to know… will you be making any time for romance during your break? As the galaxy’s most eligible bachelor… unless you’ve found yourself a little woman on the Enterprise, yes? We’ve heard rumours that you and your communication officer…”

“That’ll be me- Lieutenant Nyota Uhura. Please to meet you T’halia, huge fan of your show!”, Uhura smiles sweetly, holding out her hand for the woman to shake. “I will have to shut down those rumours I’m afraid… Captain Kirk here is a man of integrity and would never engage in a relationship with a subordinate.”

“Ah, so you’re single then!”, T’halia exclaims delightedly, shoving her recorder back into Jim’s flushed face, Bones’s scowling face beside him. “Let the galaxy know, Kirk, the three most important qualities you look for in a partner…”

“Apologies, T’halia…”, Uhura interrupts, flashing her white teeth at the woman while placing a delicate hand on Jim’s shoulder: “… but we’ve just had a communication that the Captain is needed in the main hall now. But I would be happy to stay here and answer any further questions you might have!”

“Well, I…”, T’halia frowns over at Jim, who just shrugs apologetically.

“What can I say? Duty calls!”, he smiles, glancing over at Bones. “Doctor, shall we?”

“Gladly.”, Bones mutters darkly, not even bothering to hide his distaste as he scowls over at the reporter, making his way through the crowd towards the gates, a security guard in tow.

Jim hesitates a while longer, leaning back and whispering into Uhura’s ear, trying to ignore T’halia’s intense gaze:

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here, lieutenant? We don’t need to give her anything…”

“I’ll be fine, Captain.”, Uhura whispers back, smiling. “I’m your communications officer- dealing with the press falls under my list of duties! Even if it rarely comes up when exploring the outer reaches of the known universe… but don’t worry, I’ve handled worse than her before.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”, Jim says quietly, before saying at a normal volume, loud enough for T’halia to her: “I’ll see you inside Lieutenant! Let me know if you’re going to be a while.”

“Will do, sir.”, Uhura nods, watching as Jim retreats into the crowd, before being ushered through the gates, camera’s flashing as he went.

When the gates close shut behind him, Uhura lets out a heavy sigh, before turning back to T’halia, a serious look on her face:

“Okay, now that he’s gone, we can talk properly…”

“Indeed?”, T’halia says, a surprised yet predatory look enveloping her features. “About your Captain’s love life, you mean?”

“Oh, no!”, Uhura snorts, rolling her eyes to the heavens. “I meant it when I said he was a man of integrity… and a boring one at that! Practically a nun really… and he always comes down hard on people sharing gossip in his presence, even when it’s especially juicy…”

“Oh?”, T’halia muses, raising her eyebrows at Uhura. “You have a lot of stories, then?”

“Of course, T’halia!”, Uhura exclaims, blinking her big eyes at her. “I am the Enterprise’s communication officer after all, her eyes and ears… nothing gets past me! And let me tell you, there’s a lot I can tell you… why, what I’ve learnt about the Vallen royals alone…”

“What about them?”, T’halia breathes, leaning forward, practically drooling now.

“Well, first of all, T’halia…”, Uhura whispers, leaning forward, hand around the side of her mouth: “… can you promise me, if I talk, that I’ll be protected as a source? That no one will find out where you got your information from?”

“Lieutenant!”, T’halia exclaims, clearly aghast. “I am a consummate professional! I never reveal my sources…”

“I thought so.”, Uhura smiles softly, leaning back and clasping her hands together, her eyes wide and innocent looking. “So, let me tell you something about the princess…”

Chapter Text

“I feel kind of bad about leaving Uhura alone with that reporter…”

“Oh, relax Jim!”, Bones mutters, picking up a canape from a waiter’s offered plate. “She can handle herself- she’s a big girl. She’s certainly less prone to verbal diarrhoea than you are…”

“Hey, in my defence, that interviewer said those comments would be stricken from the record!”

Bones just rolls his eyes at him, and the two of them make their way into the main area of the great hall, where all the other Starfleet officials and Vallen politicians have gathered in great numbers. The room that they were in was certainly an impressive structure: white marble walls, engraved with elaborate carvings of Vallen gods and goddesses. There was a massive chandelier made of some kind of rare crystal, which glistened a soothing lilac colour in the morning light, casting delicate patterns across the room. Placed in a centre was a fountain, consisting of a statue of a nude Vallen goddess, water flowing from the urn cradled in her arms. Truly, it was quite a beautiful room, one of hundreds in the thousands of acres the palace and all its surrounding gardens took up.

And Jim couldn’t help but find it all quite disgusting.

Maybe he was simply being sensitive, after years working as a Starfleet captain, ensuring all resources were allocated fairly amongst his crew across all departments, his own horrifying experience on Tarsus IV, seeing the results of depleted resources on a desperate population… but he hated seeing such examples of gluttony and excess. Acres of land that could house hundreds of thousands of civilians, wasted on a monarch and her husband, their servants housed underground in the dark... of course, he knew back on Earth, back when humans relied on currency for basic needs like sustenance and house, kings and queens and wealthy businessmen would also have lived like this. Why, at one point, such lifestyles would’ve been viewed as aspirational, rather than what it really was: a wasteful accumulation of wealth and resources, the desperate working their fingers to the bone, all so those in power can continue to wear silks. Of course, living under the Federation wasn’t without its drawbacks, but at the very least, all civilians were entitled to sustenance, healthcare, shelter- all free of charge.

Not so on Vallen, if his reports and Meeriana’s own stories were to be believed… Starfleet officials were only allowed inside the boundaries of the palace grounds, and the capital’s parliamentary hall. The official reason given was that it was to prioritise their safety, which might’ve been partly true, but Jim did suspect it was mostly because they did not want them to see the extent of the poverty that lay beyond these walls.

The Vallen elite probably found their own subjects quite distasteful to gaze upon.

His quiet musings are suddenly interrupted by the sound of someone’s vaguely familiar voice:

“Captain Kirk? Good to see you- It’s been too long!”

Jim looks up from his drink and freezes when he sees the handsome older gentleman in front of him, smiling away- Captain Jeffery Perkins of the USS Darwin, in the flesh. It had been six months since he had last seen the man, and his face was a little more lined, more streaks of grey in his thick dark hair, but it did not detract from his beauty at all- if anything, it only added, making him look more distinguished and refined, every inch the ideal Starfleet captain. And dear god, had he always been that tall? Jim had to raise his head to look him in the eye and he found himself self-consciously straightening his back, bringing himself to his full height, which was still a good head shorter than Perkins. He was a well-formed man, with a strong set of shoulders and slim waist, and he seemed to be the only man in the entire room who could pull off the Starfleet formal uniform…

Suddenly, he’s aware of Bones subtly poking him in the ribs, and he realises he has yet to respond to Perkin’s greeting, or even acknowledge his companion, a frail-looking, dark-skinned gentleman who looked like he could easily be in his nineties, with white mad scientist hair and gnarled, wrinkled skin, putting to mind an aged walnut. His dark eyes were wide and wild-looking, and he could give Bones a run for his money when it came to intense stares, the whites of his eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in ten years.

“Ah! Yes, Captain Perkins… it has been… a while.”, Jim gulps, fumbling with his drink a little before clumsily gesturing towards Bones. “Dr McCoy, my chief medical officer- I believe you two have met before…”

“Ah, yes, Leonard! How have you been doing?”, Perkins smiles, leaning forward and shaking Bones’s hand. “Last time we saw each other was during that whole Romulan measles outbreak, I think…”

“Indeed- not a time I enjoy reminiscing about, I hope you understand, Captain.”, Bones grimaces. “Could still smell the pus on my hands for months after… I did appreciate your people’s help with that, by the way.”

“Oh, no bother, it produced truly revolutionary results for us in viral research for the Romulan sector- we’re hoping to get permission to publish our paper any day now! Why, Tarak here…”, Perkins pauses, looking over at the elderly man beside him, who just continues to stare forward intensely. “Oh, apologies, I don’t think you two have met my chief science officer, Dr. Chakrabarti, have you? He usually tries to avoid social gatherings such as these…”

“Indeed, I do.”, Dr. Chakrabarti grumbles, pulling his formal jacket tighter around himself. “Nothing but pointless hand-shaking and small talk with imbeciles… no offence gentlemen.”

“None taken…”, Bones says dryly, raising his eyebrow in a way that would put a Vulcan to shame. “So, how’d your captain drag you into this then? Because, me personally, I was promised drinks…”

“I was his last option.”, Chakrabarti shrugs, before returning to his natural scowl. “It’s usually Dr T’Shile he brings along to these kind of things… you know, for a Vulcan, she’s a real charmer at a function. But unfortunately Vallens aren’t too keen on their kind- I assume that’s why you didn’t bring along Commander Spock to this pleasant little get-together?”

“Affirmative.”, Jim nods, taking a sip of water. “A pity really, but it can’t be helped… although, I am surprised the Darwin’s first officer couldn’t attend in your place today, doctor? From what I recall, Commander Wrex is the kind of individual who loves having their voice heard.”

“Indeed she is, Kirk.”, Chakrabarti says, smiling fondly- clearly him and Wrex were on good terms. “But unfortunately, the Vallen’s bigotry towards other species knows no bounds…”

“Tarak!”, Perkins hisses, looking around nervously for anyone listening in.

“I’ll say what I like, Jeff! God knows I’ve lived long enough to have that right… Anyway, some measly little middleman told us that while they appreciated our first officer volunteering her time, that they would prefer she not attend, simply due to her being a Betazoid! I mean the cheek of it really…”

“Really?”, Jim says, raising his eyebrows. “They’re prejudiced against Betazoids as well? Didn’t see that in the reports my lieutenant gave me…”

“Us neither, Kirk!”, Chakrabarti scowls, shaking his head in disgust. “Though I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise- the Vallen royals have never exactly been that welcoming of outsiders. They barely tolerate humans as is… if it wasn’t for the threat of war from the outer galaxies, they’d never even consider becoming part of the Federation…”

“Okay, Tarak, you’ve made your point…”, Perkins mutters, rolling his eyes at his science officer.

“Oh, like you don’t share my opinion, Jeff!”

“Yes, but there is a time and place…”

“A Vulcan botanist and a Betazoid first officer?”, Bones interrupts them, clearly not wanting to be witness to someone else’s argument today. “Quite a diverse crew you got there, Perkins…”

“Not intentional on my part, doctor.”, Perkins shrugs, taking a canape from a nearby table and popping it into his mouth. “I wanted the best people on my ship, and I got the best… turns out that means people from all walks of life. Besides, with the way the Federation’s influence is spreading across the galaxy, wouldn’t be surprised if we get a whole new array of species joining our ranks in the near future, humanoid or otherwise. After all, it’s only natural…”

“Captain Perkins! Dr. Chakrabarti, sir…”, a young woman in a yeoman uniform suddenly interrupts them, appearing from just behind their shoulder. “I’ve just had a communication from the Darwin that requires your attention… some kind of pollen outbreak in the botany lab...”

“I told those ensigns not to touch that goddamn flower while I was gone!”, Chakrabarti growls, before quickly bowing over at Jim and Bones. “Apologies gentlemen, duty calls… Jeff, you better come with me. I’ve never been able to memorise all those override codes…”

“Of course!”, Perkins nods, gulping down the remainder of his water and setting it down on the table. “We should be able to put this fire out before the talks begin… anyway, it was nice seeing you both!”, he exclaims, shaking them profusely by the hand whilst giving them each a dazzling smile that made Jim feel funny. “Hopefully we’ll have another chance to chat before the day ends!”

Jim gives him a queasy-looking smile and tries to murmur something in the affirmative, but he finds he has little control over his mouth right now- what was it about Perkins that made him always act like a bumbling fool in his presence? Bones has clearly noticed how affected he is, because how the two men leave their side, he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling.

“You’re really ridiculous sometimes, you know that, Jim?”

He scowls over at the doctor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You! The way you stare at him… god, it’s probably a good thing Spock isn’t here. He’d probably start trying to claim his territory, or whatever Vulcans do outside of pon farr, if he saw that look on your face…”

“I don’t have a look on my face!”

Bones widens his eyes and opens his mouth in a way that makes him look gormless, and it takes Jim a few seconds to realise who he’s doing an impression of.

“I do not look like that!”

“In front of him, you do…”

“Oh, do shut up, doctor…”

“Now, now… play nice boys!”, Uhura sing-songs, suddenly sidling up to them, a drink already on hand. “Ooh, was that Captain Perkins I just saw walking away? Talk about a silver fox…”

“I think Jimmy would agree with you there…”

“Anyway…”, Jim says loudly, scowling over at his friend, before turning back to Uhura. “Are you alright, lieutenant? You were back there a while… was that reporter giving you a good grilling?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, Captain! Honestly, me and Miss T’halia had quite a pleasant talk… and we’ll be seeing more of her today actually. Apparently Princess Feronzi invited her and her crew to report on today’s proceedings.”

“Great!”, Jim groans, glancing around the sunshine-filled room, already feeling a bit hot under the collar. “Just what we need, a total media circus…”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry, Captain- I doubt any of their attention will be on you today.”

Jim stares at her a second, noting the slight emphasis in her tone.

“What do you mean, lieutenant?”

“Oh, nothing sir… just that there’s all kinds of interesting things going on today!”, Uhura chuckles, taking a snack from an offered plate. “Anyway, what were you and Perkins talking about? Any idea why he was invited today?”

“No, didn’t have a chance to ask… I’m sure we’ll find out pretty soon anyway. Actually…”, Jim pauses, as he suddenly recalls something. “Lieutenant, did you put anything in the information packs about tension between the Betazoid and Vallen people? I don’t seem to remember that coming up?”

Uhura stares at him, raising her eyebrows slightly.

“I can assure you, Captain Kirk, that never came up in my research- and I was quite thorough, I even had it checked by the Vallen information minister. If there was such animosity, I would’ve included it in my reports.”

Jim frowns at her.

“But Dr. Chakrabarti said…”

“Dear god, why is he here?!”, Bones suddenly hisses, his voice full of venom. “He wasn’t on the list of attendees!”

Jim turns to see what’s caught the doctor’s attention, and immediately he feels himself freeze, his blood turning ice cold.

No, please god no, not him, not today. I prepared myself for seeing her, but not him…

But sure enough, walking across the room to them, a smug look on his shiny pink face, was Admiral Henson, looking none the worse for wear. He leers over at Jim, and it takes everything in him in that moment not to turn on his heel right then and there.

“Well, Jimmy boy!”, Henson’s voice booms loudly, catching the attention of several bystanders. “Fancy seeing you again so soon! And with a lovely lady friend this time!”, Henson says, winking over at Uhura, whose smile is so tight, Jim was surprised it wasn’t stitched together with a needle. “Hope you’re not trying to make her royal highness jealous Jimmy! Because she’s been asking for you…”

Ignoring his body’s base instincts to fight or flee, Jim plasters a pained smile on his face and gestures in front of him:

“Of course, Admiral… lead the way.”

Chapter Text

As Spock stepped out into the sunshine, exiting the shuttle bay station, he craned his head around, trying to spot the familiar face of Number One. She had messaged to let him know she had arrived on Cermat 7 earlier than expected, and would wait for him, but she had not been more specific than that.

Then, his ears pick up on a familiar voice calling out to him, and as he turns, he’s met with the sight of Una Chin-Riley striding up to him- unchanged in some ways after all these years, yet so different in many others. Still that quiet confidence and penetrating stare, that made you feel like your entire sense of self was being examined under a microscope.

“Spock!”, she calls out, a small smile tugging at her lips as she greets him with the Vulcan salute, which he swiftly returns. “How long has it been, my old friend?”

“Fifteen years, twenty-six days and twelve hours, Admiral.”, Spock replies promptly, before giving a miniscule frown, naked to the human eye. “Or were you asking rhetorically?”

“Spock, I think you can just call me ‘Una’.”, she smiles a little wider, lowering her hand. “I think you’ve earned that right… unless you want to go back to calling me ‘Number One’ again- because in that case I would not mind.”

“ ‘Una’ will suffice, I think.”, Spock says, putting his hands back behind his back. “I hope you have not been waiting long?”

“No, not long…”, Una shakes her head, looking out at the bustling crowds. “… though I will admit I am impatient to find out what exactly you brought me all the way out here for- I know you aren’t exactly the type for unnecessary social calls. The fact you called me out of the blue was alarming enough.”

“My apologies.”, Spock says, bowing his head a little. “It was not my intention to cause you unnecessary distress.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! I’m needing a little excitement in my life anyway… a desk job isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”, she chuckles. “I quite miss being on the ground, in the middle of the action… oh, but enough complaining from me! What did you want to talk about?”

Spock glances around before stepping into Una’s space and lowering his voice a little:

“Not here. Somewhere more… private?”

Una raises a bemused eyebrow at him but nods slowly.

“Of course… I know an excellent teahouse a few miles from here. It’s down an alleyway, and they’re very discrete about their cliental.”

“Sounds perfect, Miss Una. Lead the way.”

 *****************************************************************************************

Spock observes his surroundings a moment and finds them quite satisfactory- the establishment they were in was decorated with red drapes and tinkling windchimes and smelt of perfume and incense without being overwhelming. Judging by the mostly green-skinned staff, he judged this to be an Orion-owned bar, though there were a few humans working as serving staff. An Orion waitress had showed them to their low table, surrounded by cushions that resembled the ones he himself used for meditation. Him and the admiral sit themselves down cross-legged and sip at the house special offered to them, a curious mixture of mint and some Romulan spice.

“Well, Spock?”, Una says, raising her eyebrow at him. “Shall we get to business then? What did you want to talk about?”

“Before I begin, Admiral…”

“Una, please.”

“Una. I just want to be clear that from this point forward, everything I’m about to tell you is off the record?”

Her eyebrows raise even higher, but she nods her head slowly.

“Understood- something quite serious then?”

“Very.”, Spock replies, lowering his voice and leaning forward a little. “Me and Captain Kirk have recently had reason to believe that there are practices of corruption and coercion currently being utilised by high-ranking members of Starfleet- particularly the admiralty. I’ve asked you here to see if you can verify our own findings, as I personally believe you to be a woman of good character and honour. I have no other personal relationships with members of the admiralty otherwise, beyond passing acquaintanceships, so cannot vouch for their honesty.”

Una blinks at him, wide-eyed, before chuckling as she slowly lowers her own steaming cup.

“My, oh, my, Mr. Spock… you do just lay it all out on the table, don’t you?”, she smiles at him, before quickly frowning.  “Apologies, human idiom… I meant that…”

“I know what you meant, Una.”, Spock says calmly, picking up his own cup. “I’m far more familiar with Terran slang and expressions than the last time we met.”

“Oh, alright then…”, she nods, before sighing and rubbing her eyes a little. “Then allow me to use another human expression, Mr. Spock. Because you and Captain Kirk’s little theory about corruption within Starfleet?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“… I think you’re right on the money.”

*****************************************************************************************

“Glad to see you looking well, Jimmy!”, Henson laughs, slapping him on the back a little, and it takes everything in Jim to keep a neutral expression. “Because I’ve heard you’ve had a hell of a week… me too, for that matter! Put in handcuffs like some kind of criminal! Some bitch and her Vulcan bodyguard…. oh, but please understand, Jim, I meant no offence to your first officer. I simply meant those other ones, the ones who act all high and mighty, like they’re too good to be part of the Federation- at least he’s attempted to assimilate! Course, must be that human blood of his… anyway, point is, I don’t hold it against you, Jimmy, for making that report about me. After all, that Vulcan bitch got into your head, tried to turn you against your own people… you ask me, we should ban all telepaths from having positions in Starfleet, can’t trust any of them… your first officer excepted, of course!”

“Of course…”, Jim murmurs, wishing at this very moment that he had his first officer’s ability to Vulcan pinch the bastard into silence.

“So, Jimmy…”, Henson smirks, putting his hand out. “No hard feelings, then? Few months from now, all of this will be just a funny story!”

Jim stares at his sweaty, pink face, remembering a very similar expression on his face that night:

“Of course, sir. We’ll just… forget this ever happened.”

“Yes. I suppose we will…”

Plastering a pained smile on his face, Jim clasps his hand and gives it a firm tug.

“Of course, sir…. let’s just concentrate on the job at hand today. Assuming you are also attending the talks- I don’t seem to remember seeing your name on the list…”

“Oh, I’m just here for pleasure, Jimmy!”, Henson laughs boisterously, though Jim fails to see the joke- perhaps Spock was rubbing off on him. “The princess kindly invited me to spend the week in her home, and we’ve managed to forge quite the friendship, both with her and her mother. Damn fine-looking for an older lady, by the way… but anyway, thought I’d come through today, catch-up with all my Starfleet colleagues, bury the hatchet with you…”

At this, Henson squeezes his shoulder and leans forward to whisper in his ear, and Jim can’t stop himself from flinching as the cigarette breath tickles the side of his head:

“… and give you a little advice, Jimmy boy- the princess still very much has an interest in you, and if we’re wanting to get the most out of the new agreement signed today… I’d offer her a candlelit dinner with wine this evening, or a quick screw in the royal chambers before you leave. Whatever suits your negotiation style, really…”

Henson laughs at the outraged expression on Jim’s face, clearly enjoying the fact he is unable to make a scene while surrounded by a dozen decorated admirals and several Vallen politicians. He puts his arm onto the small of his back and pushes him forward, almost causing him to stumble right in front of a dozen ladies in waiting, and…

“Captain Kirk!”, Princess Feronzi smiles at him, showing off her sharpened teeth, her black eyes glittering. She seems overdressed today in a ballgown, but that was hardly unusual for her, her wavy hair piled on top of her head. “How delightful to see you! I know my husband sent the invitation himself, personally, but I was not sure if you would show, busy man that you are…”

Jim feels his skin go cold and clammy, and it takes him a moment to realise he has stopped breathing. He had looked at videos of the princess to prepare himself, to ready himself for this very encounter, but seeing her in the flesh was so different…

… especially with how intent those black eyes were on him, cold and predatory.

Taking a deep breath, he collects himself, and gives her the most genuine-looking smile he can muster:

“The alliance between the Vallen government and the Federation are of the utmost importance, your highness- while the Enterprise’s mission will take me away from this planet’s orbit in a few days’ time, I will of course assist Starfleet in this endeavour in any capacity I can…”

“Of course, Captain- of that I have no doubt.”, Feronzi smiles sweetly, moving forward and putting a hand on his arm, and it takes everything in him not to flinch away from her touch. “After all, I’ve had first-hand experience of your… commitment to good relations, after all…”

Behind him, a few of her ladies in waiting titter, and Jim feels an uncomfortable mixture of humiliation and rage. Maybe Feronzi had not known he’d been under the influence, but she certainly did not seem to care about embarrassing him in public about their supposed affair.

“Of course, these rather dull talks will take up much of today, unfortunately…”, Feronzi sighs, twirling a loose bit of hair around her finger, the other hand moving up his arm, feeling up a bicep and pressing. “… but if you were able to make time after, I would be happy to give you a personal tour of the rest of my home…”

Jim’s eyes scan the room, desperately searching for someone he knows, someone he could claim wants to speak to him so he can remove himself from this situation…

… but instead he’s met with the end of someone’s quite spiky recording device.

“Princess Feronzi! Your highness!”, T’halia the reporter gushes, not even sparing a glance at Jim this time. “Thank you so much for allowing me and my team into your palace today! Truly a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Of course, T’halia!”, Feronzi smiles, her hand still on Jim’s arm. “After all, our people will soon be part of the Federation- it is only right we talk to their media!”

“I know you will soon be occupied with today’s alliance talk, your highness, but I don’t suppose… that you would have time for an interview in the meantime?”

“I don’t see why not!”, Feronzi’s giggles, linking her elbow with Jim’s in a way that makes him feel like some kind of trophy on her arm. He can find no way to disentangle himself from her with this many eyes on them. “I have time for a few questions… long as it’s nothing too hard-hitting, of course!”

“Well, actually, it’s about you and rumours of a certain new romance… might you know what I’m talking about?”

“Oh, T’halia…”, Feronzi simpers, looking up at Jim underneath fluttering eyelashes, causing him to stiffen. “You know, I think I just might…”

“So the rumours of you and famous con-artist Harry Mudd having a situationship… they are true, then?”

Feronzi’s adoring expression suddenly cracks, replaced with one of pure, unfiltered rage, and suddenly Jim can see some of the feisty girl that Meeriana had described come out.

“WHAT?!”, she screeches, removing herself from Jim’s side and marching up to T’halia, screaming right into her face: “Absolutely not! Who did… where on earth did you hear…”

“Your highness…”, T’halia says calmly, all traces of friendliness now gone now as she gestures at a camera floating just behind their heads: “May I remind you this is live, right now?”

Feronzi freezes as she glances up at the camera, before rearranging her face into a much more pleasant expression:

“I’m so sorry, T’halia, you must understand how distressing it is to deal with such false rumours all the time. May I ask, who has been making such claims? Because they should absolutely answer for their slander of a royal official…”

“Apologies, but I never reveal my sources, your highness… reporter’s code of honour. Oh, and now…”, T’halia suddenly frowns, putting a hand up to her earpiece. “I’m getting word that one of my people has been able to contact Mr Mudd for comment… and he claims that not only are the rumours true, but that you have a secret love child with him?!”

“LIES!”, Feronzi screams, losing her temper again as she quickly forgets the live nature of T’halia’s reporting once again.

Once she starts really losing it, and Jim is certain that he can slip away undetected, he does so, still feeling a bit hot under the collar. He takes a glass of some fruit juice a nearby servant offers and swigs it in one go.

“Feeling stressed, Captain?”, a familiar voice says sympathetically, and he turns around to see Uhura standing there, a tray of canapes in hand, which he takes a handful of gratefully.

“You have no idea…”, Jim murmurs, shaking his head with his mouth half-full. “The princess tried to proposition me again, but luckily she got badgered by that reporter before it could go any further- apparently there’s a rumour going around that her and our old friend Harry Mudd had a thing? I find that hard to believe, and she seemed pretty angry about the accusation… but then again, I’ve heard crazier things…”

“I’m fairly certain it is untrue, Captain.”

“Oh yeah?”, Jim frowns at her, shovelling the last of the canapes into his mouth. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because I made it up.”

Jim stares at her, uncomprehending for a moment.

“You… made it up? You mean you…”

“I told T’halia a bunch of made-up gossip about the princess regent… and I threw in few true ones in there as well, ones Meeriana told me about, just to shake things up a bit.”

“But…”, Jim continues to stare at her, completely flummoxed. “… but why, lieutenant?”

“Well, from what you told me about the princess, she was likely to stick to you like a limpet all day, never letting you out of her sight. Distressing for you, and also counterproductive to our infiltration plans … so, I reasoned that she needed to be suitably distracted. And what better way than using the very media presence she invited? They’ll be getting on her case, she’ll be spending the rest of day denying everything, her people will be firefighting, trying to stop the spread of these rumours… ergo, her attention will no longer be strictly on you.”

Uhura’s face suddenly breaks out into a wicked little smile, as she slyly whispers:

“Plus, it doubles up as a nice little form of pay-back… if T’halia is as honourable an entertainment reporter as she claims, they’ll never find out where her source came from.”

Jim gapes at her, suddenly floored by how devious his communications officer really was.

“Uhura…”, he whispers back, gazing at her in admiration. “… I love you. And I want to have your babies.”

“Please, Captain!”, Uhura giggles, grabbing them each another drink. “Let’s keep it professional… you know how rumours spread…”

With that, they clink their glasses together, the two of them beaming at each other, sharing in the glow of a minor success.

“Hey, lieutenant…”, Jim frowns, as something occurs to him. “Did you ask Harry Mudd to claim he had a love child with the princess? I didn’t think he would want to talk with us after the last time…”

“Oh, no sir.”, she shakes her head. “I’d be happy to never see that man again, even over video call… no, I think one of T’halia’s people got in touch at his latest rehab clinic, and he just started saying whatever nonsense would get him the most attention. Who knows, maybe he’s trying to get some kind of the payout from the Vallen royals so he’ll shut his mouth again…”

“Well then…”, Jim grins, raising his glass once again. “Never thought I would say this, but god bless Harry Mudd!”

Chapter Text

“Specify, Admiral.”, Spock says, raising an eyebrow. “These are very strong accusations me and the captain are making, and you do not seem particularly surprised.”

“I am surprised it is you in particular coming forward about this, Spock- but no, I’m not surprised about your suspicions. I… have had them myself for a while now. This past year, several of my colleagues have raised their own concerns about some of our member’s activities… and more often than not, these accusations are quickly dismissed, with no further investigation. And these whistleblowers take an early retirement soon after, or are fired on misconduct charges, or…”

“Or?”, Spock prods, leaning forward a little.

“… well, you may have heard Admiral Santos died a few months ago, official autopsy report saying heart failure in his sleep. To be expected, I suppose, at his age… but just a few days before he was found dead in his apartment, he told me about some irregularities in some of our fellow admiral’s expenses, for planet visitations that still require currency… that he was going to raise the issue with Admiral Lawson, try and get it sorted…”

“And you suspect foul play of some sort?”

“I’m not sure Spock- I think this past year has made me very paranoid. I’m seen so many of my colleagues, friends who I’ve worked with for years, being pressured out of their positions or accused of actions completely out of character for them. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, in all my years working in Starfleet… even myself, my fellow remaining admirals have been implying that I should really consider retirement sometime soon…”

Spock frowns at her.

“But you are of average age for someone in a senior position such as yours- in fact, you are five-point two percent younger than average for the admiralty.”

“You really know how to flatter a woman, Spock… but yes, that is true. But if you hear the way some of my colleagues talk about me, it’s like I’m some old crone on her last legs. Doesn’t help that we now have Stephen Henson amongst our ranks, always making his disgusting comments about women… but that’s me getting off topic. Point is, I’ve not done much to rock the boat this past year, just keeping my eyes and ears open, but that can only keep me safe for so long… for whatever reason now, they want me out. And I think the choice will either come down to a cozy retirement plan, or me raising a stink and potentially risking my reputation, maybe even getting thrown out of Starfleet entirely. Honestly, I’m not sure which choice is preferable at this point…”

“Have you alerted anyone else of your suspicions?”

“I’m in contact still with some of my colleagues who were strong-armed into retirement, but... they always seem reluctant to speak on such matters. It’s like they’re… scared.” Una sighs and takes another sip of her tea, and Spock can’t help but note the dark circles underneath her eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were being threatened into silence by some powerful people… people who go beyond Starfleet, even.”

“Do you have any evidence to support this?”

“… nothing concrete, I’m afraid.”, Una sighs sadly, her shoulders deflating. “I’ve been keeping my own private record of any dubious activity I’ve noticed, trying to see if I could collate enough evidence and present it to the authorities, make sure I have an iron-clad case to present, but… it’s been slow work on my part. I can’t collaborate with most of my colleagues because they’re either untrustworthy, reluctant or too scared to talk. So most of it is just speculation on my part…”

“This record? Do you have a copy?”

“Yes, I do.”, Una nods, fishing out a PADD from her bag. Spock notes that it seems to be a much older model than those issued out by Starfleet as she hands it to him. “Please, take it- it probably won’t be much help to you, but it might give you and Captain Kirk a good starting point.”

“Couldn’t you just send it over to my communicator?”, Spock enquires, already flickering through the electronic pages with his finger at rapid speed.

“That old thing can’t so much as send a happy birthday message, never mind an entire document… I got it second hand at a market stall. I just needed something to write on, a device Starfleet was unaware I was in possession of… I’ve had my suspicions these last few months someone has been accessing my accounts and going through my messages. Of course, once again, this might just be me being paranoid…”

“No- I believe your suspicions are very much founded.”, Spock murmurs, thinking of the threatening messages sent to Detective Aurora, as he continues to flick through. “Your notes are well ordered, Una, and I do appreciate the index you’ve provided…”

“Why, thank you, Spock!”, she smiles at him, the lines around her eyes creasing. “Coming from you that means a lot! Now tell me, what exactly is you and Captain Kirk’s plan going forward? Because whatever it is, I want in. God knows, I’ve been going crazy these last few months, feeling like I’m on my own with all this.”

“Me and the captain have no… fully defined plan, going forward. All I will say is we are working with a number of individuals who are outsiders to Starfleet.”

“Oh, yes?”, Una says, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Surprised to see you going rogue Spock, you were always so by the book… but I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures. Tell me, who are these outsiders? Or are you even allowed to reveal their identity?”

Just then a breadbasket is placed in front of them, and just as Spock turns to tell their waiter they are in no need of it, his eyes flicker in recognition as he takes in the grinning blonde youth in front of him, his one golden earring flickering in the candlelight.

“Mr. Kol…”, he monotones, inclining his head in recognition.

“Mr. Vulcan!”, Kol exclaims, grinning wider. “Long time, no see!”

“I was not aware you worked here also…”

“Oh, I don’t. I just walked into the backrooms and stole a uniform.”, Kol shrugs, and Spock is still not gifted enough at detecting sarcasm to know if he is kidding or not. “But enough about me! This is your admiral friend, yes?”

“Admiral Una Chin-Riley.”, she nods, holding her hand out to him, which he shakes slowly, not breaking eye contact with her. “Una to my friends.”

“Well then…”, Kol smirks, looking her up and down suggestively. “I hope I get to call you Una, Admiral…”

Una stares at him a moment, a look of bewilderment crossing her features.

“I’m sorry… have we met before? You look very familiar…”

Kol’s expression flickers for a moment, an almost look of panic crossing his handsome face, but he quickly recovers, going back to his calm self and laughing lightly:

“Ah yes, I forget us Bajorans all look the same to you humans! Or who knows, I get around… maybe I ran into you during a quick get-away.”

“Perhaps…”, Una murmurs, drumming her fingers on the table, still not looking quite convinced but she seems to drop it for now. “So, tell me, how do you and Mr. Spock here know eachother?”

“Why, I’m one of his outsider friends, of course!”, Kol grins cheekily, slapping Spock on the back who does his utmost not to react. “Me and him against the man!”

“… I would not put it like that…”

“Anyway!”, Kol interrupts him, sitting himself down beside them, earning a subtle glare from Spock. “So, you’ve been making your own list of bad Starfleet behaviour, have you admiral? Mind if I take a look?”

“… of course.”, she says softly, gesturing at the PADD sitting by Spock’s place. “Be my guest…”

With that, Kol snatches the device up, and starts rapidly flickering through the pages, at a rate Spock doubted he would be able to fully take in all the information provided. Still, after about a minute, he puts the PADD down and frowns to himself.

“There’s a few things I didn’t already know about in here- but not a whole lot. And no substantial evidence to back up any of it, everything’s just circumstantial… have you made any attempt to access some of your colleagues’ files or records? The ones you’re most suspicious of?”

Una shakes her head.

“I’m no hacker, friend. And I’ve been reluctant to drag anyone else into this, lest I get them into trouble…”

“Well, lucky for you, I am a hacker who loves trouble.”, Kol grins, handing the PADD back to Spock, who takes it stiffly. “You get me admiralty-level security access to Starfleet HQ, and just let me work my magic from there…”

She glances at him sceptically a moment, before turning back to Spock:

“Commander… do you trust this gentleman?”

Spock pauses a while, looking Kol up and down as he continues to smirk at him, considering.

“Trust… is perhaps too strong a word. I do believe our goals and his are in alignment at this moment in time- will that suffice?”

Una thinks on this a moment, then nods slowly.

“Yes… I suppose it will. I mean, I have nothing to lose right now… either I’m forced into retirement, or I leave in disgrace. And I at least want to go out in a blaze, rather than like some wounded animal.”

“Oh, you know what?”, Kol smiles crookedly at her. “I like you…”

“Flattery has never gotten anywhere with me, young man.”

“ ‘Young man’? Why so formal? You can’t be a day over…”, Kol squints at her, like he’s pretending to think about it. “… thirty-five? Is that right?”

“Really. Stop it.”, Una says firmly, and he has the grace to look a little bit abashed. “Now, you said you want access to Starfleet HQ- that’s thousands of light years away from here, it would take us months to reach there.”

“We have time…”

“But I don’t- they could be pushing me out of Starfleet any day now. The only question is if I go willingly… no, that won’t do. I suggest we head to the Starfleet embassy- it’s only an hour or so from here by tram. Should have everything we need there, plus security is nowhere near as stringent as HQ.”

“Like the way you think, admiral!”, Kol smiles, tapping the side of his head. “You up for doing this today?”

“I can, if you can.”, Una replies, finishing off the last of her tea before turning to Spock. “What about you, commander?”

“I have no prior engagements until my captain returns to the Enterprise.”, Spock says primly, finding no suitable excuses that didn’t fall into the realm of lying.

“Well then!”, Kol exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Meet you by the embassy in two hours then, friends!”

“Two hours?”, Una frowns, her eyebrows crinkling together in confusion. “Why not just head off together now?”

“Less suspicious if we’re not seen travelling together- cameras and all that. And besides, I need to make a call to one of my contacts…”

“Would this be one of your Starfleet whistleblowers?”, Spock asks nonchalantly, not really expecting an answer.

“None of your business, Vulcan- lets just say, I have a lot of friends I make promises to. Now…”

“Hey!”, an Orion waitress suddenly storms over to them, fury evident in her features. “You can’t sit down with customers!”

“Oh, I don’t work here, ma’am.”, Kol replies, standing himself up and tipping his imaginary hat at her. “I just dress like this… anyway, I’ll see you two soon!”

With that, he strolls away bouncily, whistling as he goes, leaving a confused waitress in his wake, who just sighs and turns down to look at them:

“Sorry about that folks… anyway, would you like to order any food?”

“Why not?”, Una shrugs, glancing over at the specials board. “We have an hour to kill… Mr. Spock, anything you want?”

Once the waitress leaves after taking their orders, Una’s easy-going smile disappears, and she turns back towards Spock, an urgent look on her face:

“Mr. Spock, I don’t want to alarm you, but… I’ve definitely met that man before!”

“The young Bajoran gentleman, you mean?”, Spock says, raising an eyebrow at her. “Yes, you said you found him familiar… where do you know him from?”

“Well, that’s the thing, it doesn’t make any sense, but… I swear I ran into someone who looked, sounded and acted just like him thirty years ago on a mission! On a mining planet!”

“Thirty?”, Spock says, slightly disbelieving. “He does not even look thirty years of age…”

“I know, but there you go! I will say he had a different hair colour, bright red back then, but… the resemblance is uncanny! It could be his father, maybe, I suppose…”

“Perhaps.”, Spock says, glancing up at the waitress and thanking her as she places their food before them. “Yet you seemed so sure he was the same person…”

“Yes, but…”, she sighs, shaking her head at him. “Oh, maybe it doesn’t matter- it doesn’t sound like you trust him all that much anyway.”

“I do not- but Captain Kirk has asked me to work with him, and he usually has good instincts about people, except in cases where he is severely emotionally compromised due to a friendly or familial relationship.”

“Ah, typical human then.”, Una smiles good-naturedly, as she starts spooning some soup into her mouth. “How is it, working with Captain Kirk, anyway? Sounds like you two make quite the team, from what I gather from mission reports…”

“Working with Captain Kirk is…”, Spock hesitates a moment, as words seem to fail him somehow, so he settles on something simple: “… it is an ideal partnership, yes. Truly a worthy man to work under. And… a good friend.”

“ ‘Friend’?”, Una stares at him, her eyes widening in something akin to shock. “Why, Mr. Spock, I never thought I’d see the day you’d call someone a ‘friend’!”

“Yes, well…”, Spock shifts his body position on the pillow so he’s sitting more comfortably. “… I have had a lot of time to think about my place… among humans, and I… no longer view the concept of friendship as something shameful or going against the teachings of Surak. It is merely something quite… natural.”

“Oh! I’m so glad, Spock.”, she smiles, reaching across the table and putting her hand beside his, not quite touching. “You know, I did think, seeing you today, you seemed different…”

“… specify?”, Spock says, inclining his head slightly.

“Well, just more… comfortable, with yourself, I suppose.”, she says slowly, considering her words carefully. “I mean, you were never afraid to be yourself on the Enterprise, even when others mocked you for it, but… there always seemed to be an inward battle going on behind the eyes.”

She shakes her head suddenly, and lets out a little laugh:

“Oh, please ignore me Spock! Don’t know what I’m talking about… just an old woman getting sentimental I suppose…”

Spock regards her carefully a moment before reaching across the table and resting his hand on her sleeve, careful not to touch the skin:

“No…”, he whispers quietly. “You’re a very observant, perspective woman… and kind. You helped make my early years working on the Enterprise… quite bearable. Enjoyable, even. And I am sorry that I never showed you gratitude for that… that you showed me true friendship even before I knew what that was…”

“Oh!”, Una gapes at him, clearly not expecting that. “I mean… no apologies needed! You know I was never one for… performative gestures…”

“True.”, Spock nods, looking thoughtful. “But I should’ve said it at least once… and I should’ve reached out before now.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, but I suspect that is because you thought I did not want you to.”

“… yes.”, Una sighs, her eyes now looking wet and glassy. She laughs as wipes at them with her sleeve, trying to not let any tears escape. “Damn you, commander! Stop making me cry! And eat your soup- can’t be doing espionage on an empty stomach!”

Spock gives her a barely-there smile, and obediently takes a sip of his plomeek soup.

Chapter Text

They’re all gathered into the meeting room and take their assigned seat around the large rectangular table, a copy of the newly drawn-up agreement placed against every seat. Jim looks around at the guards gathered around the sides of the room but does so discretely- Meeriana had said that the insider she knew was amongst them, and would make themselves known to him as soon as it was safe to do so. None of them glanced his way, just staring straight-ahead and to attention. Jim just sighs and starts flicking through the document- they would most likely make his acquaintance during the first morning break, so there was no use worrying about it for now. Best just to concentrate on the job at hand for now.

“Hey, Bones?”, Jim says, looking up at the doctor. “Where’s Uhura? I swear she was just behind us…”

“I believe she’s with the princess, Jim- buttering her up, trying to comfort her about all this tabloid business…”, Bones whispers, rolling his eyes for emphasis. “Gotta say, I’m glad we brought her along- I’d be no good at keeping the princess off your back all day. She always looks at me like I’m some bug she found at the bottom of her shoe…”

“Yes, well… I would prefer it if she looked at me that way.”, Jim whispers back, shaking his head in exasperation. “Anyway, long as we…”

“Ah, Kirk! Looks like we’re sitting together today!”, Captain Perkin’s friendly tone suddenly calls out from behind him, right before sitting himself down, smiling all the while. Jim tries to smile and nod back at him, but it probably just look like a strange spasm. “And looks like Tarak is beside Dr. McCoy…”

“Ah yes, and right across from the princess royal…”, Dr. Chakrabarti growls. “Where she can keep a good eye on you, Jeff…”

“… Tarak, remember what I said about watching your tone in this space…”

“Oh, I heard you, Captain! I just don’t give a damn…”

“Anyway!”, Perkins dismisses his science officer with a subtle hand gesture before turning back to Bones and Jim. “You two gentlemen ready for another round of talks?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”, Bones mutters, and Jim nods to concur, doing his best not to notice the smell of Perkin’s cologne in this close proximity- something quite piney, with a hint of cedarwood. “Of course, you two weren’t here last weekend… tell me, why were you invited to participate this time? Is the USS Darwin going to be involved in setting up the alliance?”

“To be honest, Dr. McCoy…”, Perkins sighs, running his hand through his thick hair. “… we have no idea ourselves. We kept demanding answers from Starfleet, but all they could say was that Vallen government asked representatives from the Darwin to attend…”

“… which basically just means Jeff here, and whichever poor sod he dragged along…”, Dr. Chakrabarti mutters sulkily.

“… and that it would all become clear during the reading of the new alliance agreement.”, Perkins says, glancing down at his own document.

“Huh.”, Bones says, raises his eyebrows at him. “So you’re just in the dark as the rest of us… and what were you saying there, about the princess keeping a close eye on your captain? She planning on sinking claws into yet another Starfleet officer?”

“Bones!”, Jim hisses, going very red now and Bones has the grace to look very apologetic, clearly realising he overstepped.

“Oh, nothing like that!”, Perkins laughs nervously, going a little pink under his tan himself. “Please don’t mind Tarak, he’s a bit of a motormouth…”

“… and yet you took me here anyway, Jeff!”, Chakrabarti shrugs, before turning back to Bones. “Let’s just say there’s a bit of bad history between the Darwin and the Valeen royals…”

“Tarak!”, Jeff admonishes him. “That is not relevant to today! If anything, they’re probably wanting to discuss utilising some of our latest discoveries to aid in their defence. After all, I had a lot of interest the just other day from Starfleet HQ about our clothing devices…”

“Clothing devices?”, Bones echoes, raising an eyebrow. “You mean cloaking devices surely, captain? And I mean, not to take credit for it or anything, but it was us lot who did the heavy lifting there, stealing one from a Romulan vessel and all that… all you scientists have to do from there is copy their homework…”

“Yes, Dr. McCoy, the Enterprise’s effort and results are most appreciated… and I did not misspeak. We’re currently trying to find a way to apply the cloaking technology to clothing… I mean imagine the edge we would have over the Romulans and Klingons if our spies were invisible to the naked eye! We currently have a prototype in production, but unfortunately it only works when the person wearing the device stays completely still… but we’re hoping in a year or so this issue can be overcome using some recent innovations in spectral technology…”

‘Sure could use that kind of cloaking technology today…’, Jim thinks to himself glumly, glancing over at Perkins as he starts to go into a bunch of scientific jargon which he vaguely understands, but doesn’t have sufficient expertise to make any significant contributions to the conversation. He glances behind him when he hears Uhura’s clear voice, and sees her enter the room alongside the princess regent, who seems rather charmed with his communications officer:

“Honestly, it’s awful, your highness, the way these so-called journalists will print false stories, and run smear campaigns against people of great importance such as yourself! So spiteful, and likely out of envy…”

Feronzi smiles sweetly at her as Uhura continues to gush, complimenting her dress and earrings, and Jim cannot help but smirk.

He reminds himself never to get on Uhura’s bad side.

Unfortunately, due to her being a last-minute addition to the proceedings, Uhura is seated at the other edge of the table, and so when Princess Feronzi sits herself down directly across from him, all of her attention is now very much on him. He returns her seductive gaze with a weak smile and starts looking through the new alliance document, doing his best to ignore her penetrating stare.

“So, Captain Kirk…”, she purrs, reaching across the table and brushing his knuckles, earning a scowl from Bones and an inquisitive eyebrow raise from Perkins. “Have you put any more thought into my… offer from earlier? You could even stay overnight if you so wish… I believe Starfleet said it was not necessary for you to leave the system just yet…”

“Actually!”, Bones suddenly chirps up, forcing a fake cheeriness to his tone. “Captain Kirk here is due his annual physical tonight, and I refuse for him to put it off once again…”

“Well… surely such a trivial thing is easily rearranged, yes?”, Feronzi drawls, looking over at Bones disdainfully, reproach dripping from her voice.

“With all due respect, your highness, my captain getting a clean bill of health is never trivial! And as chief medical officer…”, Bones leans forward, still smiling, but there’s a steeliness to his blue eyes. “… I get final say on such matters. Doctor’s orders.”

Her eye twitches slightly, and she’s about to make a retort, when suddenly a gong sounds, and everyone turns to look their way. She forces her fake, syrupy smile once again and stands up to address everyone, her sharp, shiny teeth glinting as she speaks:

“My people, and our friends from the Federation… welcome! Today we make another stride towards bringing this alliance to fruition, with the original agreement requiring slight… alterations, after being looked over by me and my husband’s people. Today, we will be looking over the new agreement, discussing such changes and ensuring that both sides are now satisfied and any misgiving addressed directly. If you’d please all turn to page one, we shall begin…”

Across the room, there are the sounds of styluses clicking against screens, and out of the corner of Jim’s eye he can spot Perkins reaching into his pocket for something. When he glances over properly, he suddenly startles and finds himself staring before he can catch himself, which Perkins duly notices.

“Kirk?”, Perkins turns to him, frowning. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing!”, Kirk says quickly, in a voice embarrassingly close to a yelp. “Just that I… didn’t realise you wore glasses! You… uh… don’t really see people wearing them anymore!”

While that was a true enough statement, it wasn’t the real reason he was staring- after all, Jim had a pair of reading glasses himself, having a minor stigma that could not be corrected due to his allergic reaction to Retinax V. He was rarely in need of them as he only struggled with extremely small fonts, which was lucky for him as he really did not suit his glasses.

Perkins, on the other hand… they made him look like one of those classic golden age movie stars, a Gregory Peck type maybe, the thick dark frames resting perfectly on his face, highlighting his big soulful brown eyes and strong brows.  Those eyes blink at him as he grins somewhat bashfully, tapping the side of the black rims:

“Ah, yes, well… I suppose I should get my eyesight corrected. It’ll be a damn nuisance if these ever break someday, but… I don’t know I’ve had the since I was a young man and… I’m rather fond of them.” He shrugs, turning his attention back to the document. “Suppose I’m just a sentimental old fool, really…”

“Yes, well… I mean, no! But…”, Jim stammers, his face flushing- this always happened when he was in front of Perkins for some reason, he always acted a damn fool. “I just meant that…. They suit you… very well… quite well!”

“Oh… well, thank you!”, Perkins says quietly, giving him a slightly confused look.

Bones, noticing the awkward exchange, rolls his eyes at him, and mouths ‘for the love of god…” under his breath. Dr. Chakrabarti, the old bastard, chuckles quietly to himself, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Thankfully, the reading of the new agreement begins, and he allows himself to focus on his work for now.

*****************************************************************************************

“… and now we will discuss the distribution of Starfleet resources, in order to benefit the Vallen empire.”, Feronzi’s husband, Prince Grunig, grunts, pointing his clicker over at the presentation. “The amendments made are highlighted as you can see, starting with the gifting of obsolete starship vessels to our fleet. Prior to two days ago, there were no vessels available, at least not operations ones. But thankfully, we’ve recently had word that the USS Darwin will cease operation in four months’ time…”

At this, Perkins immediately stiffens and Chakrabarti stares across the table, a murderous look on his face.

“…. and rather than be sent for dismantlement, it will be given to the Vallen government as a symbol of goodwill and prosperity…”

A low murmur goes around the table, with several Starfleet officers looking over in their direction, looking for clarification. Perkins raises his hand, his expression blank and betraying no emotion as he stares daggers over a Grunig.

“Ah, yes! Captain… Jeffrey Perkins, is it?”, Grunig smiles, glancing down at the seating plan document placed in front of him. “You have a question?”

“It is more for Admiral Richard Lawson, if I may, your highness.”, Perkins says tightly, his eyes wandering over to the gentleman next to him, his face impassive as ever. “Admiral, I have not been made aware of any plans or orders for the Darwin to cease operation… and neither has any of my crew. Has there been some kind of misunderstanding somewhere? The Darwin has several important projects currently underway, and you surely can’t expect to reassign hundred of crewmembers in such a short space of time? It defies all logic and good reason…”

Jim widens his eyes- so Perkins had not been aware he was being stripped of his ship until right this second? In a world of communicators and fast travel, such a breakdown in communication should have never been allowed to happen.

Which meant that, for whatever reason, it was absolutely intentional.

“I do apologise, Captain Perkins, on behalf of all of Starfleet, that you were not informed of this fact before today- I was under the impression a comm was sent to you sometime last night, but clearly that was not the case.”, Lawson drones, readjusting his sleeves as he does so. “The decision was made only recently, as we begin to face resourcing issues as our influence spreads in this sector of the galaxy. While we do appreciate the work the Darwin and its crew have done these past decades, we can no longer justify the cost and resources of running such a programme- your results have been subpar these last few years, and we have sufficient resources on our colony planets for scientific research. A starship is not necessary for such a task.”

“But Admiral! You cannot be serious… as I said, I have hundreds of people under my command, and we have been given only a few short months’ notice to…”

“Captain Perkins!”, Lawson snaps, losing his cool demeanour for a second. “I will be happy to take all questions regarding your employment, as well as that of your crew’s… but it will have to be after today’s talks are over. The admiralty’s decision is unanimous and will be going forward, despite your protests.”

“But I…”

“Captain. Cease your irrelevant questioning, or I will have to ask you to leave the room.”

Perkins stares at the admiral, a completely flabbergasted look on his face, while Chakrabarti continues to glare like he wished the admiral a very slow and painful death. The rest of the table began to whisper and murmur, clearly confused about what exactly is happening, and Jim can’t blame them.

What on earth had mild-mannered Perkins done to piss off the admiralty?

“Of course, if you are worried about your people, Jeffrey…”, Grunig grins, showing off his sharp and slightly yellowing teeth. “… my businesses are in great need of scientists and engineers! And we do pay a pretty penny… of course, I know you Federation folks don’t really do traditional money, per se, but I’m sure they’d get used to living the good life pretty quick…”

“Jeff’s people, your highness…”, Chakrabarti growls through gritted teeth, leaning forward in his seat a little, his eyes red and bloodshot. “… will most likely seek new employment elsewhere. Assuming the Darwin does, in fact, cease operation of course… because believe me, none of us are going quietly.”

“Dr. Chakrabarti!”, Lawson says sharply, scowling at the wizened old gentleman. “Another act of blatant disrespect like that, and you will be removed from this room and court martialled…”

“Oh, go on then!”, Chakrabarti roars with laughter, putting his hand behind his head and leaning back in his chair. “I’m ninety-seven years old, you bloody pencil-pusher! You think I have anything left to lose?!”

For a while Lawson and Chakrabarti go back and forth, the ruckus in the entire room growing louder and louder, and all Perkins does is regard his old friend silently, a fond look on his face that kind of warms Jim’s heart.

He likes to think his own crew would defend him that vehemently if this kind of bullshit was ever pulled on him.

The commotion ends with Chakrabarti being silently removed from the room, still scowling furiously, but thankfully with no threat of court martial this time. Perkins remains, his body rigid and unmoving, a stony look on his face as the rest of the room regards him with open curiosity or mild amusement. Bones pats him on the arm, and Jim gives him a sympathetic look, but there’s only so much he can do with Princess Feronzi’s beady little eyes on him, that sickly sweet smile still plastered on her face.

“Well, I think it will be rather good for you, in all honestly, Mr. Perkins!”, she titters, the lack of ‘Captain’ clearly a sign of disrespect. “After all, I’m surprised at your age that you aren’t already considering retirement… oh, we should talk after! I could recommend many resort planets you could have the option of settling down on…”

Perkins, for his part, doesn’t take the bait, simply smiling, bowing and whispering his thanks to the princess, before turning back to the document in front of him, stony-faced and silent, his easy-going demeanour essentially vanished.

Jim glances over at Bones who gives the exact same bemused look- they’d expected crazy today, but not this particular brand of crazy.

And it wasn’t even lunchtime yet…

Chapter Text

“He is late…”, Spock says disapprovingly, looking up at the standard time clock situated at the top of the embassy building.

“… Spock, you must understand by now, most non-Vulcan humanoids are not so precise about timekeeping…”

“I understand that, Una… but that does not mean he is not late.”

“Wait, isn’t that him?”, she whispers, pointing over at a figure stepping off a shuttle bus. “In the command yellow?”

Spock gazes over in the direction she is indicating, and it takes him a moment to fully confirm the truth of her statement.

“Yes, I believe it is…”, he says slowly, squinting as he tries to confirm what he is seeing. “But I believe he has… altered his appearance slightly. Beyond his attire, I mean…”

As Kol approaches them, smiling, Spock is able to see that his first impression was indeed correct- the young man no longer sported the nose ridges of his people, and he had removed his cultural earring, leaving the flesh bare. Dressed in the yellow Starfleet uniform, he was indistinguishable from any of the human ensigns he would see wandering around the Enterprise, right down to the sensible black shoes.

Spock raises his eyebrows at him in question, to which Kol responds by laughing:

“Yes, yes, I know, it’s all a little over the top, but you can’t be too careful- a Bajoran seen walking around the embassy is going to raise questions, so just thought I should put on the old nose prosthetic and uniform…”

“Do I wish to know how you got your hands on such a uniform?”, Spock says dryly, somewhat conceding to his logic.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, Mr. Spock!”, Kol winks at him. “But let’s just say I had to search a good while for someone with my exact build…”

“Indeed.”, Spock says, raising an eyebrow before turning back towards the building. “Una, from my research, flag officer records are held in the top floor of the embassy- I assume you have clearance for that area?”

“I do- and the code to allow ‘visitors’.”, she says, glancing over at the two of them. “Although, we do have the security cameras to contend with… if somebody notices anything amiss later on, they need only check the footage…”

“I thought of that.”, Kol smiles before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small silver cylinder, the same size as a lipstick tube. He places it into Una’s outstretched hand. “Press the button on the side of this, and it’ll send out a shock wave that’ll scramble the cameras for a good thirty minutes…”

“Won’t someone in security notice that their cameras are playing up?”, Una says, staring down at the device in her palm.

“Perhaps… but they’ll only catch us if we don’t get in and out of there fast enough. After all, we’re just going to skim these records, see what looks important or interesting enough to download or make copies of… if we’re in there for more than half an hour, something has gone very, very wrong.”

“That’s what I’m worried about…”

“Well, if something goes go wrong, remember, you can pin all the blame on me, Admiral.”, Kol shrugs, before indicating over at the front entrance. “Now, shall we?”

****************************************************************************************

Getting up to the records room was easy enough, with the turbolift and doors automatically opening on Una’s voice command, and there were only a few officers of note wandering around on the top floor. Una had already disabled several cameras before making their way through the door, and as Spock looks around at the wall-to-wall shelves of data logs, he can’t help but consider that it had almost been too easy.

“So… where do you suggest we start, Admiral?”, Kol says, clapping his hands together. “I overheard your conversation back at the teahouse, about how your old friend Santos kicked the bucket after inspecting someone’s expenses… apologies if that’s an insensitive way of putting it, by the way…”

“It’s fine. And yes, that is correct- but unfortunately, he didn’t give me a name.”, Una replies, wandering over to a computer and logging in with her details. “Okay, this is my account now, but I’m uncertain what kind of safeguards they have in place to stop hackers from combing through other people’s records…”

“Haven’t found a safeguard that can stop me yet. Make way…”, Kol strides over and starts rapidly typing away on the interface, opening some kind of external programme. “Ah, yes, very impressive… but give me five minutes and I should be in. In the meantime, pull me up a list of all flag officers currently operating in Starfleet, and I can cross-reference them with their expenses. If there’s any irregularities, I should be able to spot them immediately…”

“Very well.”, Spock nods, drawing out his own PADD. “I will send them over now…”

“And if you don’t mind me gentleman, I’m going to look through the court records for the last year or so.”, Una says, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. “See if there’s anything that seems suspect, or tampered with…”

“Okay, go nuts.”, Kol says nonchalantly, waving his hand over his shoulder. “But don’t try to go through any firewalls without my help- I know how to remove them without leaving a paper trail.”

She gives him a one-fingered salute in response, before wandering over to the data library, looking carefully through the holo-index. Spock transfers the list of Starfleet officers over to Kol on his secure line, then watches carefully as he works away. He can’t help but admire the speed and precision with which he overwrites the code, his fingers a blur and his eyes unblinking.  Such concentration and focus were unlike anything he’d seen outside of his education back on Vulcan as a young boy. His skills seemed to surpass most humanoids with decades of coding experience, which was impressive at his presumably young age.

“Where did you learn how to do this?”, Spock enquires, tilting his head slightly as he studies the latest overwrite he inputs.

“On the job.”, Kol shrugs, frowning as another alert comes up, which he quickly quashes. “Best way to learn anything…”

“This level of skill would require at least some years of formal training…”

“Maybe for you, it would. As for me, I don’t exactly thrive in classrooms…”, Kol trails off when suddenly the lines of code clears, and he’s met with a blue screen and a Starfleet logo. “Oh, excellent, I’m in! Now, let me get that list of names…”

With a flourish, he copies across the document and leans back as he waits for an action command to lead. But just as quickly, a blank document opens up on screen and Kol frowns deeply.

“Strange…”

“That command asked to find inconsistencies in expenses, yes?”, Spock says, crouching down beside him to get a better look at the monitor. “If it came up blank, that means no irregularities were found?”

“Correct, Vulcan.”

“Couldn’t any signs of over expenditure have been deleted from the system, not long after Santos decided to investigate?”

“The code I inputted also looked for signs of editing or deletion of records… so, no. Unless… hey, Admiral!”, Kol yells over his shoulder. “Are you sure it was expenses your friend was looking at, not something else?”

“I am certain- he was very clear about that.”, Una replies, wandering over to also stand by the monitor, looking at the screen with a raised eyebrow. “Though, like I said, he didn’t give a name… perhaps it is someone who left Starfleet this past year?”

“Maybe… Mr. Spock, give me a list of people who were removed or retired from Starfleet this past year.”

This turned out to be a fairly long list, but once again the results came out negative. Kol starts tapping his fingers in frustration and glaring at the screen:

“Well… that was a dead end! Clearly, this Admiral Santos was mistaken…”

“No.”, Una shakes her head profusely. “Santos said he was going to share his finding with Admiral Lawson, so he must’ve found something substantial…”

“Well, I’ve checked every flag officer in the fleet now, unless we want to try and look through every commander and lieutenant’s dirty laundry…”

“He definitely mentioned it was someone in the admiralty…”

“Well, it doesn’t say that here!”

“Are you certain you’ve checked every Starfleet admiral’s record, Mr. Kol?”, Spock interrupts, inclining his head at him.

“Of course, you sent me over the lists yourself!”

“Yes, but it now occurs to me… we did not include those not among the living.”

“ ‘Not among the living’? Wait, you mean…”, Kol stares at him wide-eyed as a big grin grows across his face. “Oh, I like the way you think, Vulcan! Okay, give me a minute, I’ll have to hack into the deceased members records…”

Spock counts eighty-six seconds for Kol to finally gain access to yet another database, much more low resolution in quality. He once again inputs a command code and holds his breath as it takes much longer to run this time. When it finally comes up with a document, consisting of millions of pages of text, he jumps up and gives a little whoop:

“Yes! Of course, they’ve been doing their dirty business by moving money around through their dead colleague’s accounts… and I can bet they’ve been doing it for more than a year now, based on the length of this monster…”

“How long will it take to download all this?”, Una frowns over at the screen, as Kol already starts inserting a data pod, barely bigger than the size of a small marble.

“Based on the file size… half an hour?”

“You said the cameras could only be disabled for half an hour.”, she points out, indicating over at one such device on the far wall.

“Well, give it another flash when they’re about to come back on again…”

“But what if someone comes by to fix the cameras before then?”

“Then… we’ll deal with it.”, Kol mutters, glancing up at her wearily. “Look, you knew this wasn’t without risk… if it makes you feel any better, we can put Mr. Spock here on guard duty…”

“I think that would only draw people’s attention to this room more.”, Spock says dryly, watching as the countdown for the file upload begins.  “Can I make the suggestion that we disable cameras in more parts of the building, starting with the ground floor- security and maintenance services will head there first, and likely leave this area for last. It will confuse them and buy us some time.”

“Not a bad idea, Spock-y.”, Kol smirks over at him, clearly trying to annoy him with the overly familiar nicknames now. “You go do that, while me and the admiral here comb through more records…”

“Very well.”, Spock nods, before glancing back at the screen. “May I ask… would you be able to look up where most of these payments are coming from? I see this identical user ID fifty-seven times on this page alone…”

“Sure.”, Kol acquiesces, bringing up another tab on his screen. “Let me just cross-reference this bank statement with another database, and…”, he pauses, looking at the screen, an odd expression on his face. “… huh.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I suppose, I shouldn’t be too surprised by this, but… that identification number? It’s based on Vallen.”

“The princess regent?”, Spock guesses immediately, the cogs turning in his head.

“No, but close… the payments are coming out one of her husband’s businesses. And they’ve been happening for the last year or so, right around when…”

“…. Starfleet began talking with the Vallen royals about an alliance.”, Spock nods, staring at the screen. “Which means that…”

“… we’ve got proof, Mr. Spock. Undeniable proof that several high-up members of Starfleet are in the royal’s pocket, all here in black and white…”

“My god…”, Una whispers, running her fingers over the screen, staring at the obscene numbers. “When all this comes out, the scandal it will cause…”

“Already having second thoughts, Admiral?”, Kol says tersely, his eyes reproachful.

“No, you misunderstand me, sir… I simply meant…”, she gives a small smile, her eyes shining slightly. “… that this past year, people kept telling me that I was paranoid, that I was losing it… but here it is, proof that something was wrong all along! And I for one, can’t wait to ruin these bastards once and for all… to make them feel even half the stress they put me through these last months…”

With that, Kol’s face softens a little and he smiles:

“You know what, admiral? You ever want to consider the criminal life, call me- I think it would suit you.”

“Coming from you, young man, that is quite the compliment.”

“I’d extend the same courtesy to Mr. Spock here, but…”, Kol gestures up and down at the Vulcan, who is giving him a withering stare. “… well, the day he decides to go for a life of crime, we’ll all be in trouble…”

“Indeed...”, Spock mutters, before making his way over to the door, cylindrical silver device in hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go disable the security cameras on every floor of this building- comm me if you have any issues.”

“Will do, Spock-y, will do…”

Chapter Text

“Well, that was god awful… so you think it’ll just be Perkins getting fired today, or you reckon they’ll continue to share the love?”

“Not sure Bones…”, Jim whispers, only half-concentrating on what his friend is saying as they make their way out of the conference room for the first mid-morning break. “Did any of those guards look like they were trying to catch my eye back there? I know Meeriana said they’d make themselves known to me, but I’m not sure…”

“Wasn’t paying attention to that, Jim- too busy watching Lawson and Chakrabarti going at it. Don’t know where the old codger gets all that energy in his old age…”

“You’re no spring chicken yourself, doctor.”

“More cheek like that, I’ll be handing in my own resignation this afternoon, Captain.”, Bones mutters darkly, his eyes trained on some ruckus going on at the other side of the ballroom. “Well, looks like the princess and her people are still occupied with the media circus- apparently Harry Mudd is continuing to blab to reporters from rehab.”

“Yes- apparently the royal family’s first payout didn’t satisfy him.”, Uhura giggles as she walks up behind them, holding three cups of coffee. “Anyway, here’s something for energy, gentlemen- black and strong for you, doctor, and cream and three sugars for the captain…”

“You’re aware he’s supposed to be reducing his sugar intake, Lieutenant?”, Bones scowls at her as she hands Jim the steaming cup.

“Hey, everyone should enjoy a little treat on occasion.”, Uhura shrugs as Jim smiles over at her gratefully, raising the sweet liquid to his lips. “Anyway, while she’s distracted, shall we…”

“Captain Kirk!”, the sound of the Prince Grunig’s booming voice suddenly interrupts them, and Jim’s smile wavers. “Please, come over here a moment! There’s someone I want you to meet…”

Before he can think of a decent excuse, he’s clasped by the shoulder and marched over to the other side of the room, where several elder members of the royal family and their servants are gathered. Grunig marches them over to a woman he recognises as Queen Jinxia, wife to the currently comatose King Mezzik. She had not been at the talks last weekend, but he recognised her from Uhura’s information pack, as well as some holo-vids. Henson had been correct that she was indeed a handsome woman, but there was a cruelness to her smile and a sharpness to her face that Jim found slightly unnerving.

“Your highness…”, he says, bowing in the traditional Vallen manner. “It is an honour to meet you. Thank you, for allowing the Federation into your home this week…”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain Kirk.”, Queen Jinxia simpers, looking him up and down lecherously, in a way that was eerily similar to her daughter. “After all, once Vallen also joins the Federation, we’ll all be family really- and family is always welcome in our home! Especially a dashing young man like yourself… why, my daughter has had nothing but good things to say about you…”

“That is… quite flattering, your highness…”

“Jinx, please.”

“Jinx.”, Jim smiles forcefully, praying Uhura or Bones will rescue him from this conversation any minute now. “And your daughter is… a credit to you. And your husband. Oh, but my condolences, of course…”

“Oh, yes, my dear Mezzik…”, Jinxia sniffs, dabbing at her eyes with a silk napkin, even though it was clear no tears were present. “We’re still praying everyday that he’ll pull through, but he grows weaker by the day… I’m so scared it’ll be any day now…”

“Hmmm…”, Jim murmurs, putting on his best mournful face. “At least he’ll be leaving a… fine leader in his steed. He would be proud…”

“Oh, yes, our little Feronzi!”, Jinxia twitters, putting her hand on Grunig’s arm, who beams back at her. “You know, I was so worried, when the twins died, about her taking over… because between you and me, captain, I did not think she’d be well-suited to the job…”

“Oh, no?”, Jim nods, craning his neck around, but he sees no sign of his own people, or Meeriana’s guard buddy. “And why is that?”

“Well, growing up, she was always so… soft. Weak. No stomach for the game… of course, her father tried to toughen her up, but there’s only so much you can teach someone unwilling to learn. As a girl, she would always try to run away because she couldn’t handle the light teasing from her siblings, always crying and acting up… as she got older, she calmed down somewhat, but she always walked around with such a sulky expression on her face, it made her look so unattractive… what I’m trying to say is, Captain, is that when I realised she was to be sworn is as leader, I was actually quite horrified.”

“Really?”, Jim says, raising an eyebrow. “You had that little confidence in her?”

“If you knew her back then, Captain Kirk, you would understand- she was in no way suitable. She had little respect for our customs, for the family name, for her own parents… a dynasty can be brought down by one weak link, and we were having such trouble with rabble-rousers and terrorist groups at the time…”

“Indeed…”, Jim murmurs, wincing as he realises he’s sounding like Spock once again.

“But, I must say, captain, as soon as she took on the mantle of princess regent… why, it was like night and day! Her attitude changed completely- I suppose all she needed was to be given the responsibility, to prove herself! Why, the way she’s weeded out and punished our dissenters, I see so much of my own husband in her! She’s done so much in less than two years, and now her and Grunig are helping us to join the Federation… why, it brings a tear to my eye!”

She dabs at said eyes once again, which again, are still very much dry.

“Yes, my wife will surely be remembered as the woman who reinvigorated Vallen for centuries to come!”, Grunig nods in agreement vigorously, a wild glint in his eye. “Why, the way our economy has grown under her leadership, we’re the jewel of the galaxy! You know, when my late wife passed away, I never thought I’d be able to love again… but then, we met at her funeral, and shared our pain- after all, Zavvi was her favourite cousin, and she had so many. I think mourning Zavvi really brought us close together… really, Feronzi is such a kind, sensitive soul behind that ruthless façade…”

‘Somehow, I very much doubt that…’, Jim thinks to himself as he sips away at his coffee, while he hears the sound of the princess screeching about something or other in the distance. Flower arrangements, maybe?

“… and of course, it doesn’t hurt she’s very easy on the eyes!”, Gruning leers, looking every inch the dirty old man he is. “You know, Jim, I don’t mind my wife having her fun with you, but if you’re looking for your own little lady to settle down with, I know some discrete people. You can let them know your preferences- if you prefer them submissive, or with a little fire…”

Jim is resisting the urge to throw up his mouth a little, when he suddenly catches some movement out the corner of his eye: a small figure shoving his way through the tight crowd, yelling as he went:

“Excuse me? Excuse me!”, Dr. Chakrabarti snaps at some terrified-looking Vallen politicians as he barges his way through. His face clears when he sees Jim, rolling up his sleeves as he approaches: “Ah, Captain Kirk, there you are… would you mind helping me get in touch with Mr. Spock? Just had word from one of our labs that there’s a situation your Enterprise lot have experience with…”

“Uh…”, Jim looks over at his two companions, who are regarding the doctor with undisguised distaste. “… well, I would love to help with that, doctor, but Mr. Spock is on leave today…”

“Well, someone else in your science department then!”, Chakrabarti growls, pulling at his wild hair. “Goddamn it man, please! It’s an emergency!”

“… of course, doctor. I’ll get on it at once. Your highnesses…”, Jim bows apologetically over at Grunig and the queen, secretly rather glad for the interruption.

He hurries off after Chakrabarti, who is surprising fast for a man nearing a hundred years old, still muttering to himself at a rapid rate about ‘exothermic rates of production…’. But as they get further away from the royals and reach the other side of the room, Chakrabarti ducks in behind a large potted plant and grabs a tray of hors d’oevres from a nearby table, offering it to Jim:

“Cracker with grey stuff on it, Captain? It’s better than it looks, honest.”

Jim blinks at him, more than a little confused.

“Uh… so I’ll just message my science team now… you said it was an emergency, doctor? Can you give me any for info than…”

“Oh, no Kirk. That was a little lie just there….”, Chakrabarti interrupts him, whilst chewing casually on something that looked like seaweed.

“A… lie?”, Jim repeats, feeling very confused now. “Why?”

“Why lie? Oh, orders from my own captain… he said you looked mighty uncomfortable and to go save you from the perils of small talk with Grunig and the wicked queen.”, he replies, glancing back at the way they came. “Or was Jeff reading that whole situation wrong?”

“I mean he… wait, Captain Perkins told you to go save me?”, Jim stares at him, bewildered. “Why?”

At this, Chakrabarti shrugs, continuing to eat most of the hors d’oevres plate.

“Because he’s a nice guy? Plus, he knows from experience what bastards those people are…”

“Okay…”, Jim mutters, still not totally satisfied with that explanation as he starts to scan the room. “Couldn’t he have approached me himself? Why send you to do his dirty work?”

“He was getting an incoming call- not sure what, but I’m guessing it’s to do with the Darwin. Maybe words getting back to our crew about us getting grounded…”

“Yes, about that…”, Jim says, turning back to the old man, his curiosity piqued now. “… what the hell was all that back there? Seems like Starfleet really had it in for you guys, making a dramatic announcement like that…”

“An exercise in public humiliation, yes, Kirk.”, Chakrabarti mutters darkly, putting down the tray and rubbing his hands on his science uniform. “Well, you know, with this alliance, Starfleet are trying to suck up to the Vallens any chance they can get… including punishing those they consider enemies…”

“ ‘Enemies’?”, he whispers, raising his eyebrow at him. “What, your crew? What did they do to the Vallen royals?”

Chakrabarti stares at him a moment, looking genuinely shocked, before giving a little chuckle:

“Of course, I forget you’re one of the younger captains in the fleet, Kirk… what happened between Jeff and the Vallens was well before your time. Why, you probably weren’t even born…”

“Captain Perkins?”, Jim continues to whisper, huddling closer to the doctor behind the plant. “What happened? I didn’t see anything come up in my research…”

“Ah well, because it more involves the Vallen’s sister planet, Tolaz, around forty years ago, back when Jeff was just a science ensign working under me on the Darwin. My, it was quite the talk amongst Starfleet at the time… it made Jeff’s career but also made him a lifelong enemy of the royal family.”

“What happened exactly, doctor?”, Jim leans forward. “I mean, thirty years is a long time to hold a grudge…”

“Yes, well, these people are experts at it…”, Chakrabarti mutters, shaking his head. “Well, to simplify a long and very complicated dispute, the Vallen royal family have been looking to absorb Tolaz into its empire for centuries now, despite the protestations of the Tolaz people. Wars have been fought over it, back when Tolaz still had a strong military, but centuries of fighting and depleted resources wore them down and eventually left defenceless against Vallen’s attacks. They reached out to Starfleet for help, but we couldn’t get involved without starting a full-scale war, which was the opposite of what the Federation wanted at the time. We were still ironing out the rules of the Prime Directive, doing our best not to step on too many alien governments toes… we were keeping an eye on their dispute, just to make sure their war didn’t advance into Federation territory, but that was the extent of it. But one day, the USS Darwin was ordered by Starfleet to visit Tolaz, to inspect some deposits from a decommissioned lithium mine- the Tolaz government agreed to let us explore the mines and collect whatever lithium we could find, for a fee. As chief science officer, I assigned Jeff to the initial investigation team, to explore the mine and take some structural and chemical readings. But after a few hours, we got communications from Jeff that he was picking up… life readings. Deep underground. Of course, that confused us, because at the depths he was looking at, no living being should’ve been able to survive the pressure. But we managed to get some probes down there and, sure enough, we came across some humanoid creatures with rock-hard skin and somehow no internal organs, powered purely by lithium… they practically glowed in the dark! We talked to the locals about it, and apparently there were mythological creatures from their folklore that matched the descriptions we gave them, but none of them thought such tales had any truth to them! So, after some further investigation and readings, we got in touch with Starfleet with our findings, and lo and behold, turned out what we found down there was a whole civilisation of an endangered species, long thought extinct! So, the way the Prime Directive is written, there are exceptions to us interfering with other cultures if there is activity occurring that could result in extinction of a species… and so with our discovery, Starfleet was now obliged to protect Tolaz from Vallen’s attacks, and that we did! For a good thirty years or so…”

“What happened?”, Jim frowns.

“Well, around seven years ago, some kind of parasite infested the mines and made its way deep underground, infecting the Kozka… sorry, the creatures, I mean. We did our best to contain the strain, but by then it was too late… a whole re-discovered species wiped out in less than a week. God, I still remember Jeff’s face when their bodies were brought back up to the surface for dissection…”

“Damn…”, Jim mutters, shaking his head. “I don’t remember hearing about all that…”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t a secret, but Starfleet did advise that this event not be publicised too widely… after all, we were the ones overseeing this conservation project, and it was a definite failure on our part. Though even now, we have no substantial theory on how such a deadly parasite found its way into those mines in the first place… at least, none that we can prove.”

“And?”, Jim raises his eyebrows. “You have a theory you can’t prove?”

“Let’s just say… I wouldn’t be surprised if the Vallens were involved. They had the motive- with the entirety of the Kozka obliterated, Starfleet was no longer under any obligation to protect Tolaz. It was truly shameful the way we just left them in the lurch like that… but we had our orders.”, Chakrabarti sighs, taking a sip from his coffee and pulling a face at the bitterness. “Yes, we had our orders…”

“I… understand.”, Jim nods, gazing around the whole congregation of Starfleet officers and Vallen politicians. “And you mean to say what happened this morning… was their attempt at getting back at the Darwin? Specifically Captain Perkins? After nearly forty years?!”

“Yes, well… like I said, these people know how to hold a grudge. And… I specifically put Jeff in charge of the conservation project in Tolaz, so they know his face very well… which has come back to bite him in the ass now, unfortunately. But whatever happens… us, his crew, will always be behind him.”, Chakrabarti says with great gusto, slamming his coffee cup down forcefully. “I’ve known Jeff for decades now and can truly say there’s no one I’d rather serve under…no offence, Kirk.”

“None taken.”, Jim smiles at the older gentleman fondly. “He’s clearly… a good man. To have a crew who would defend him so vehemently…”

“None of us will go quietly, Kirk…”, Chakrabarti mutters, shaking his head vigorously. “Starfleet have been pulling a lot of shit on us lately, but this really takes the cake…”

“Sirs?”, a palace guard suddenly approaches them, a stocky woman with hair pulled back into a tight bun. “We do ask that you stay in sight of security cameras at all times… for your own safety. Please make your way into the centre of the hall…”

“I don’t need to do a damn…”

“Of course!”, Jim interrupts Chakrabarti before he can go into a whole tirade. He squints at the guard a moment, tilting his head.

Meeriana had said her guard friend would seek him out. Could this be…?

“Actually!”, Jim smiles, putting down his own coffee cup. “Could you show me where the toilets are? This damn stuff is going right through me…”

“Of course, sir.”, the guard nods, blank-faced as she indicates for him to follow, which he does so, giving Dr. Chakrabarti a little wave as he walks away.

The guard leads him out of the main hall, close to the corridor where the guest facilities are.

But then she turns him around another way, and another way, until they reach a set of large staircases.

Very much not where are the toilets are located.

“I can have the cameras off here for fifteen minutes- no more, no less.”, the guard whispers to him, glancing around nervously before handing him a key card, along with a list of codes. “Meeriana gave you the castle schematics, yes? So you know your way round?”

Jim nods in affirmation.

“Good- I must go now, or someone will notice my absence. Will you be able to find your own way back?”

“… I think so.”, Jim says, craning his neck up to look at the rooms upstairs. “Fifteen minutes, you say?”

“Approximately, sir- I’d return to the hall after ten minutes, to be on the safe side. If you need to return here later today, please, find me at lunch.”

“Will do.”, Jim smiles at her. “And… thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, sir.”, she replies, saluting him in the Vallen style. “For… my fallen comrades.”

He copies her salute, and she gives him an appreciative nod before marching off, leaving him to his own devices for now.

He hurries quickly but quietly up the stairs, his feet landing lightly on the plush carpet. When he finds himself outside royal study, a look of furious concentration crosses his face as he punches the code in, smiling in relief when the door opens easily and smoothly off the hinge.

Okay, you entitled, elitist bastards. Let’s see what you’re hiding…

Chapter Text

“Jim!”, Bones hisses, glaring at him as he approaches, looking slightly dishevelled from presumably hurrying back downstairs to the main hall. “Damn it man, you were cutting it pretty tight! The meeting’s starting again any minute now…”

“Yes, well… I made it, Bones.”, Jim shrugs, glancing gratefully over at Uhura who is readjusting his collar. “Besides, I’m sure you two would’ve been able to buy me some time…”

“Did you manage to find anything useful, Captain?”, Uhura whispers discretely, leaning in slightly.

“Not… really?”, Jim sighs, pulling a face. “I mean, plenty of correspondence between the Grunig and Feronzi’s various lovers, but that’s hardly a scandal- it’s clear those two have an open relationship. Though I will say… I found it odd that among Feronzi’s lovers, not a single one is a woman.”

“Why would that be odd?”, Bones frowns. “People have preferences…”

“But she had a romantic relationship with Meeriana… which implies she’s at least bisexual, right? And it’s not like homosexual relationships are taboo here… so why no women?”

“Maybe she is bisexual, Jim… doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a clear preference. Or she went off women after her tryst with Meeriana.”, Bones shrugs, swallowing the last dregs of his coffee. “Besides, we don’t even know for sure that she really liked her- she very well could’ve just been using her.”

“Perhaps…”, Jim sighs, rubbing his fingers over his temples. “But I don’t know… to put up that façade for all those years, and for Meeriana to never suspect a thing?”

“Hey, it’s not just men who get their brain turned to mush at the sight of a pretty face.”

“True.”, Uhura murmurs thoughtfully. “But I do agree with the Captain that Meeriana doesn’t seem like the type to lose her head like that… at least, that’s the impression I’ve gotten from my few conversations with her. She doesn’t seem prone to romantism… but let’s move on from that. Did you really find nothing else of note, Captain?”

“Well… I was able to find a bunch of invoices from some, chemical plant, but I have no idea what to make of them. I like to think I did decently in chemistry back at school, but this list of materials they’re buying in mass bulk has me stumped. I forwarded it on to Spock over the secure line, maybe he’ll know what to make of it…”

“Mind if I have a look at it?”, Bones asks, and Jim hands over his PADD over obligingly, checking no one is watching them as he opens up the right page.

For a little while, Bones is silent, his eyes scanning the page until something clearly catches his attention, his eyebrows scrunching together:

“What we have here… it’s the chemical components of beutzogene, Jim.”

Jim’s breath catches a little as he stares at his friend.

“What they… drugged me with? You mean the royals… were buying it?”

“Or at the very least the ingredients for it… we might have enough here to warrant an investigation, at the very least. Have a look into some of Prince Grunig’s not so wholesome business practices…”

“Yes. It all makes sense…”, Jim exhales, scanning the room until he catches sight of Admiral Henson laughing it up with the queen mother. “His friendship with the royals… that’s how he managed to get his hands on a supply. God, that bastard… least we have proof now!”

“I wouldn’t get too excited, Jim.”, Bones says, shaking his head sadly, still making his way through the document. “We thought we nailed him down before, only to be let down by Starfleet. Going forward, we’ll have to be smart about this… careful about who we talk to and… huh.”

“ ‘Huh’?”, Jim mimics, craning over to see what Bones is looking at, but the list of industrial names mean nothing to him. “Something else interesting, doctor?”

“Just… unexpected. This right here?”, he says, pointing towards the bottom of the page. “We use this stuff for coma patients… to keep them nourished and fight off infections while their immune system is compromised.”

“So? The princess’s father is in a coma. That’ll probably be for him, right?”

“But why’s it coming out of their bank accounts? Surely the doctors they hired to look after him have their own supply… civilians aren’t supposed to have access to this stuff.”

“Yes, well, since when do the royals care about the law?”

“ Touché… but why would Feronzi or Grunig want their own supply? It’s hardly a party drug… or anything more sinister like beutzogene.”

“I suppose…”, Jim murmurs, taking his point. “I suppose we can start forming our own theories once we’re back on the Enterprise… anything else you recognise, doctor?”

“Afraid not.”, Bones says, handing the PADD back to Jim. “But like you said, we’ll have time to look at this later. Anyway, we’ve gotten what we came for, so we can sit back and relax a bit now…”

“Oh no, I’m not done Bones.”

“Pardon?”, the doctor says, blinking at him.

“That bunker! The one Meeriana told us about last night! Can’t leave without seeing that!”

“Goddamn it, Jim…”

Before the doctor can finish what is presumably a long list of expletives, the gong clangs and all the attendees are asked to make their way back to the meeting room.

*****************************************************************************************

The reading of the new agreement continues mostly uninterrupted, aside from the odd question or clarification, and Jim was doing his best pay attention, all the while his mind was whirring away, trying to calculate when the best time would be to slip away from lunch undetected. It didn’t help that the talks were now very dull, with Dr. Chakrabarti having been removed from the proceedings. His shouting match with Lawson had at the very least livened things up a bit. Perkins, for his part, had been staying mostly silent and staring straight ahead, not rising to any of the jibes directed at him from the princess, or her husband for that matter.

Jim can’t help but glance at him a couple of time, thinking about what Dr. Chakrabarti had told him before, about how Perkins had basically single-handedly saved Vallen’s sister planet Tolaz from forced colonisation. Of course, he had known he was a smart, handsome and very accomplished being, but heroic too?

It was kind of hard not to hate the guy- some people were just too perfect.

Just as that selfish, immature thought crosses Jim’s mind he inwardly cringes- what was wrong with him? Here he was, a grown man, a Starfleet captain no less, and here he was acting like an insecure high schooler. Perkins had just had his ship, his crew stripped from him, basically one of Jim’s worst nightmares, and he was taking it on the chin like it was nothing. Not giving the Vallen royals the satisfaction of knowing they'd gotten to him.

If that had happened to him? Well, Jim wasn’t certain he would've been able to leave the room without throwing a few fists…

He shakes his head and tries to get his attention back on the new agreement reading- it seemed like they were making good time, if they were lucky they’d be out of here by mid-afternoon.

Assuming the princess didn’t force him to stay afterwards, of course…

Suppressing a shudder, he forces himself to keep his attention solely on the page in front of him and not more… unsavoury matters.

But just then, Lawson’s monotonous drone cuts through, and he finds himself freezing, not quite believing what exactly he’s hearing:

“And of course, here we have yet another addition to the benefits bestowed by Starfleet, as a representative of the Federation… Cermat 7, a terraformed dwarf planet that came into our ownership eleven Terran years ago and has seen great cultural and resource growth since. Ownership of this planet will be transferred to the prince regent of Vallen, his royal highness Grunig Miza, as a symbol of our friendship and…”

Judging by the sudden murmuring and sideway glances going on around the table, he wasn’t the only one who was taken aback by this news. Grunig just sits there quietly with a shit-eating grin on his face as he examines the ruckus, while Feronzi continues to gaze over at Jim with a dreamy look on her face. Eventually Lawson had to call the room to order, announcing calmly but firmly that if anyone had questions, they must raise their hands to do so. Immediately, half a dozen hands go up, including Perkins and Jim’s. Lawson regards them both coolly, before nodding over at Jim.

“Captain Kirk?”

“Admiral…”, Jim says, clearing his throat a little. “… what you are suggesting is… well, quite frankly, it’s preposterous! You can’t just… gift a planet like that, alliance or no! It goes against so many of our regulations…”

“I appreciate your concern, Captain Kirk…”, Lawson sighs, looking like he very much did not appreciate it. “… but I’ll have you know many of those regulations have changed in recent months. I appreciate as you have been away on your five-year mission, you many not have been made aware of such changes…”

“Regardless, admiral!”, Jim insists, leaning over the table a little, his fists clenched. “Starfleet set up Cermat 7 as a home for refugees, victims of war, famine, pestilence…. many of those people have been living and running their businesses there for well over a decade now! We have a responsibility to them; their lives are in no way for sale…”

“Captain Kirk, I assure you, Starfleet not in the business of ‘selling’ people- and I do resent the insinuation quite frankly.”, Lawson responds coldly, scowling at him over the top of his PADD. “Of course Starfleet will continue to monitor the situation on Cermat 7, and aid the Vallens in the running of the planet…”

“Admiral…”, Perkins interrupts, causing Lawson to deepen his glare. “I’m sorry, but if business on Cermat 7 is to go on as normal, what is even the point in shifting ownership, when it has prospered under Starfleet’s banner these last few years?”

“Captain Perkins, if you would please raise your hand and wait for me to call on you…”

“Because, quite frankly, this comes across to me as a business acquisition- unless you want to tell me his royal highness’s interest in owning such a planet is purely for sentimental value…”

“Captain, that is enough!”, Lawson thunders, slamming his hand on the table. “If you show any more disrespect like that in front of our hosts, I will have to ask you to…”

“Oh, liven up Lawson!”, Grunig chortles, glancing over at his wife who is smirking in amusement at the whole affair. “The man’s quite right! This is quite the lucrative opportunity for myself, and our planet- but of course, please don’t worry about the current occupants. Let me tell you, when I’m done setting up business there, they’ll be career opportunities up to their eyes…”

“And what about the civilians who are unwilling to work for you, for one reason or another… your highness?”, Perkins enquires, his voice devoid of emotion, but Jim can see how white his knuckles have gotten under the table.

Gruning just shrugs and leans back against his chair, laying his hands on his stomach casually.

“Well, if they don’t know a good thing when they see it… well, that’s on them. They don’t like it, they can leave, their choice… no one’s forcing them to stay. These people managed to make a life for themselves after being kicked off their home planet before… if they’re so resilient, they can do it again. Noone made it big by accepting hand-outs, after all…”

Perkins gives the lecherous gentleman a heavy stare, but says nothing, clearly knowing what the prince wants is a reaction.

So instead, Jim steps in:

“They are, as you say, a resilient people, your highness…”, Jim says, bowing his head in mock-deference. “And I hope you realise… they won’t take this decision lying down. They’ve been living under Federation law for too long after all, and we don’t have kings and queens… they find it quite archaic. Their words, not mine of course…”

“Of course… Captain Kirk.”, Grunig smiles, but there is nothing but venom in his eyes. “And don’t worry… we are well used to wiping out dissention.”

“Of that sir… I have no doubt.”, Jim nods, leaning back in his own chair, and turning back to Lawson. “Sir, the reason for this whole get-together was to ensure both sides are satisfied with the new terms of the alliance agreement, yes?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“So, a decision as far-reaching as this, it should be brought to a vote, yes? Today, or back at Starfleet headquarters even. I see several senior members who are not present today to have their say…”

“Captain Kirk, if you do not cease this now, I will…”

“I’m in agreement with Captain Kirk!”, a senior Starfleet commander calls out from the other end of the table. “This has just been sprung on us today with no warning! We need time to convene and discuss!”

“I’m also in agreement!”

“And I!”

“And I!”

Soon, around a dozen Starfleet members were calling for a vote around the table, and eventually Lawson had to concede to organise a vote back at headquarters on a later date, with all flag officers present. This decision wins Jim distasteful stares from the Vallens gathered around the room, and a grateful look from Perkins who gives him a subtle thumbs up from underneath the table.

Jim smiles at the older man, his chest feeling ever so slightly lighter- it wasn’t much, but it was a small victory today.

And he had to get them where he could- he’d learnt that much from being a captain these last few years.

Here's hoping he might have at least one more today...

Chapter Text

“Took your damn time about it!”, Kol drawls as he lets Spock back into the records room. Spock, for his part, does not respond to his rudeness.

“All security systems have now been temporarily disabled- I estimate we now have around forty-six point two-seven minutes of time left to collate further data.”

“Forty-six point two-seven? Can’t get more accurate than that?”, Kol asks with a sly smile.

“That is assuming unexpected factors do not come into play…”

“Okay, I get it.”, he says, putting his hand up. “Anyway, the expenses download is almost complete now. Me and Una have managed to find a tonne of interesting legal documents in the meantime, if you wanna take a glance…”

“What is interesting about them?”, Spock enquires, walking over to the corner of the room where Una is bent over a data bank, frowning furiously.

“What’s interesting about them is what has been altered, Mr. Spock.”, Una says, nodding down at a long transcription on the screen, clearly from some kind of court case. “Kol managed to hack into the data frame to look for edits… and they are plentiful. Evidence removed or fabricated, testimonies recalled without explanation, law enforcement acting outside of proper procedure… I understand now why some many of my close colleagues were forced out of Starfleet. The whole system has been corrupted and twisted from within, into something I don’t even recognise anymore…”

“And no surprise most of the flag officers who ended up arrested on trumped-up charges were non-Terrans.”, Kol mutters, glaring darkly at the screen. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s never been a secret that Starfleet favours Terrans above all Federation members, but they’re being blatant about it now…”

“I do not believe that is a fair or accurate judgement, Mr. Kol.”, Spock says stiffly, glancing over at the young man. “Yes, it is true non-Terrans have been underrepresented within Starfleet since its inception, but the organisation has always pushed for more diversity and inclusivity in its membership… at least, until recently.”

“Ah yes, and that is why you’re the only non-human aboard your precious Enterprise, isn’t that right, Mr. Spock?”, Kol says dryly, rolling his eyes at him. “What is it you Vulcans like to preach about? IDIC? Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations… a nice idea, in theory. Shame you’re surrounded by Terrans who look at you like you’re some exotic zoo creature or something disgusting they stepped in…”

Spock regards him curiously a moment, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“Forgive me, Mr. Kol, but I believe you are projecting slightly. And as for your… distaste, for Terran humanoids…”

“I don’t have a distaste for Terrans.”, Kol snaps, Spock’s condescending tone evidently triggering him. “They’re like any other species… some are bastards, some are angels, some are the best people I’ve ever known…”, he pauses a moment, a strange emotion passing over his face, but he quickly goes back to his usual control. “… as individuals, I have no problem with them. It’s just… as a collective…. it’s the hypocrisy I don’t like. The Federation loves to preach about the principles of liberty, equality, peace and justice, but as soon as the going gets tough, they abandon entire worlds to slavery and fascism, all in the name of the Prime Directive….”

“The Prime Directive is necessary to protect developing civilisations from the effects of advanced technology before they ready to yield such power, and to prevent the Federation from interfering with other cultures without their explicit consent or understanding….”

“I know what the damn Prime Directive is supposed to be for, Vulcan!”, Kol growls, glowering at him. “What I’m saying is that your lot are damn selective when you choose to implement it… where were you lot when Bajor fell to the Cardassians? We were plenty advanced as a society, Starfleet could’ve come to our aid…”

“Starfleet is prohibited from interfering in combat between cultures outside of Federation space… to do so would’ve cost billions of lives on both sides, prolonging the war and extending its reach to the furthest sections of the galaxy …”

“Oh, yes, you lot always had your excuses.”

“These excuses were accurate projections and simulations of what would happen if Starfleet, acting on behalf of the Federation, chose to involve itself with the Cardassian-Bajor conflict…”

“Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night, Vulcan…”

“Uh… gentlemen?”, Una says sheepishly, looking between them, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter. “I believe I’ve downloaded everything I need from this device… shall we leave now, or keep looking around…”

Before either man can respond, there is a sudden beeping at the door, indicating someone was seeking access outside. The three of them look wildly between them, and just as the door swishes open, Una pulls the data pod out of the machine and shoves it inside her large hairclip. Kol nods in approval briefly before allowing his attention to go back towards their new visitor.

She’s an older human woman, around sixty-two point two years in age if Spock had to guess, with a simple pixie-cut dyed an unnatural shade of white, a stark contrast to her dark brows. At first, she doesn’t seem to notice them, as she wanders into the room with a confident stride, suiting that of her admiralty station, as indicated by the uniform. She starts suddenly when she realises she is not alone, her shock making way for a contemptuous grimace:

“Admiral Riley…”, she scowls, not even bothering to use her full-name. “What are you doing here?”

“I could say the same about you, Gwen…”, Una raises an eyebrow at her, looking far calmer than she probably actually was. Clearly, the dislike the woman had for her was returned in full. “Last I heard, you were Henson’s right-hand man… why are you not on Vallen with him? Did he grow sick of you already?”

“I was asked to pick up some records for an upcoming diplomacy meeting… and far as I can tell, no one asked you to come up here, Riley.”, she says disdainfully, her eyeline suddenly moving towards Spock and Kol. “And you definitely didn’t mention you would have visitors joining you today…”

“Me and Commander Spock here were simply having a social call… and he asked to have a tour of our facilities. And this is Ensign Carruthers, who is accompanying the commander as part of his security detail…”, Una lies easily, gesturing towards the two gentlemen. “And as much as I would love to catch up with you Gwen, we should really be making our leave now…”

“Hold on just a minute there, Admiral.”, Gwen says softly, stepping to the side in front of the monitor where Kol had been seated before. “I see someone’s stuck a data pod in here, and it’s currently downloading… this wouldn’t happen to be yours, would it?”

Una hesitates a moment before nodding shortly.

“Yes… I’ve had to download my expenses for the past year. Someone in finance was asking…”

“Hmmm… rather large file here for just one person, Una.”, Gwen says in a high, sing-song-y voice as she beds over the screen and smirks to herself. “Either you’ve been racking up the bills lately, or you’re telling a little porky pie…”

“Admiral, that is my private information. It is confidential…”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got reasonable grounds for suspicion, Riley.”, she smiles as the download sequence reaches one hundred percent and she yanks the pod out. “Let’s see what security has to say about this…”

At this, a flicker of panic passes Una’s face but it is just as quickly repressed. She strides forward purposely, hand outstretched:

“Gwendolyn, if you do not cease this foolishness, I will have to report you for harassment and attempted theft. Now, please hand over my property…”

“Not another step forward, bitch.”, Gwen suddenly snarls, pulling out a phaser from her admiral’s jacket, pointing it straight at Una with a steady hand, who stares at the white-haired woman in pure shock. She glances over at Spock and Kol, who are standing there like statues, observing the proceedings, and smirks: “… either of your accomplices move a muscle, you’ll get it straight to the head… understand?”

“Gwen…”, Una stares at her with horrified eyes. “I know we’ve never exactly been friends, but…”

“Oh, don’t downplay it, you haughty cow! Since the academy, you always thought you were better than me, turning your nose up at all of us, making me feel worthless…”

“Gwen, I assure you, that was not my intent…”

“And even now, I know you’ve been talking with people, telling them I’m not qualified for this position…”

The fear was rapidly disappearing from Una’s face now, replaced with a righteous anger:

“Well, considering you’re an unstable, egotistical lunatic, I think I was justified in saying so. The way you suck up to Henson, let him degrade you like that in front of everyone, it’s pathetic…”

“Shut up!”, she growls, raising up the phaser and putting a finger on the trigger. “Now… you three either come quietly, or I shoot…”

“No-one can shoot an un-authorised phaser in a Federation facility.”, Spock says calmly, regarding her with barely disguised disdain. “You shoot, and a security team will be here in approximately forty-five seconds to apprehend you…”

“So? I just tell them it was self-defence, that I feared for my life.”, Gwen shrugs, continuing to stare forward at Una with wide, blazing eyes. “If there’s anything I’ve learnt from Henson this last year, truth is indistinguishable from a lie told by those in power… and you’ve been on your way out for a little while now, Una. And I’m very much on my way up.”

“That may be… but there’s still three of us and one of you.”, Kol points out, an unimpressed look on his face. “You can shoot one of us, but the other two will take you down… with lethal force, if necessary.”

“Believe me… I’m a fast shot.”, Gwen sneers, her lip curling up a little. “My record at the academy was unbroken for thirty years…”

“You know, Gwen, this is the reason no one respects you.”, Una says, raising an eyebrow. “Always bringing up the academy days, like it was the only time that mattered… dear god, that was decades ago and you’re a grown woman now. Get over yourself…”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Riley! I’ll…”

But whatever threat she was about to make is cut off when Kol takes advantage of her distraction and throws what looks like a knife at high speed across the room, embedding itself in Gwen’s thigh. The woman screams and before she can so much as retaliate, Spock is across the room at lightning speed and puts a hand to her neck. But before he can apply the pressure, Gwen points her phaser and starts shooting wildly at Una, who manages to jump out the way, several data banks disintegrating behind her. Spock quickly performs the nerve pinch, and she slumps forward in his arms as alarms start going off around them and the lighting turns to flashing red. Spock gently lets Gwen down on the floor, taking the data pod from her limp hand, and stares towards the door, the keypad indicating that it is now emergency locked. Kol also takes in their situation, biting his lip a moment, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“How long did you say it would take security to get here, Spock? Forty-five seconds?”

“Thirty-five seconds, now.”

“Right…”, Kol mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… shit.”

“Indeed.”

“Okay, give me a second, I’ll think of something. Just… erase her memory, would ya?”

Spock stares down at the prone figure a moment, considering.

“Probing and alteration of a non-consenting mind goes against many Vulcan ethical…”

“Oh, just do it will you?! Unless you want to spend the rest of your long lifespan on a penal colony!”

 Relenting reluctantly, Spock kneels down next to Gwen, placing a hand over her temple and whispers:

“Forget…’

Chapter Text

The last thing Spock remembered had been standing himself up from his kneeling position over Admiral Gwen’s prone body, and turning around, ready to plan out the next course of action with Una and Kol.

Then, a flash of red light, a white-hot sensation in his chest and then… nothing.

It feels like he has only closed his eyes for a second, but as he opens them again, he finds himself oddly sluggish and fatigued, like he’d just come out of a long healing trance. He tries to take in his surroundings, his eyes still adjusting to the relatively bright lights, but as he pushes himself up, someone suddenly grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him into a hug, blocking his view:

“Spock!”, Una cries softly, running her hand up and down his back, before surreptitiously placing her hand on a small bit of exposed skin by his wrist. “I was so worried about you! How are you feeling?”

In his mind, she communicates rapidly and urgently through her touch:

“Kol stunned you just after you erased Gwen’s memory, then security came through the door and he pretended to take me hostage- told them that if anyone tried anything, he’d shoot me dead. One of the guards called his bluff and stunned him, narrowly missing me- he’s been taken away now, and will be officially charged somewhere off-planet. I don’t know what reasons he’ll give for accessing the records room with me, but this will be our official story, okay? We met up today for a catch-up, and I decided to give you a tour of the embassy- but then someone posing as Starfleet security took us both hostage and demanded that I give him access to the records room, or he’d kill you. Then Gwen came into the room, and he immediately stunned her, not realising that would set off the alarms. You used the distraction to try and save me, and that’s when Kol shot you… nothing was taken, security came before he could force us to do anything.

You think you can keep to that story?”

“Lie, you mean?”, Spock replies back in his mind, while out loud saying: “I am adequate, thank you admiral. I am pleased to see you’re unharmed.”

“Yes. I know it doesn’t come naturally to Vulcans, but…”

“Do not worry Una- my years working amongst humans has greatly improved my skill at deceit. But I would prefer if you did most of the talking.”

“No problem, Spock- any trouble, you just blame it on the concussion.”

“Concussion?”, Spock raises an eyebrow, before putting a hand up to the back of his skull and noticing it is quite tender. “I hit my head on the floor?”

“Well, you actually hit it on the side of the computer first… sharp side. There was… quite a bit of blood. It was horrifying… probably made my hostage performance that much more persuasive.”

“Indeed…”, he nods, his gaze moving down towards his uniform tunic, which he now noticed was covered in dark green stains.

“If it helps, I don’t think Kol meant for that to happen- I think he just meant to stun. He looked pretty panicked when you started bleeding.”

“Perhaps- I really do not see how my death would benefit him in any way… besides eliminating a potential witness. You said he was arrested?”

“… yes.”, Una inwardly sighs, her eyes downcast. “There was no way out- windowless room and security at the door. All we can do now is present our evidence to the authorities and try to get him pardoned somehow. But only once we’re safely off-planet.”

“The evidence?”, Spock sits up suddenly, wincing slightly as the pain at the back of his head increases in intensity. “Do you have…”

“In my hairclip.”, Una nods, squeezing his hand gently. “Don’t worry- once we have a moment to ourselves, I’ll give you all the data. From here on out, it’ll be you and Captain Kirk’s responsibility.”

Out loud she says:

“Commander Spock, I’m so sorry, I know you’re hurt, but Officer Richards here…”, she nods over to the other side of the room, where a tanned muscular man in law enforcement uniform is sitting. “… he has some questions for you. He needs to get your side of what just happened. Before you were knocked out I mean…”

“Of course, Admiral.”, Spock says, pushing himself up into a seated position on the lounge chair he was currently occupying. “It is imperative that we assist the authorities… may I ask, has the young human who took us hostage been taken into custody?”

“He has indeed, Commander.”, Officer Richard smiles at him, walking over and sitting himself on a glass chair opposite him. “Though turns out he isn’t human, it was just a convincing disguise- Bajoran, a known criminal we’ve been looking into for a while now. He has warrants for arrest in every sector of this galaxy and beyond… he’s just lucky it was the Federation who ended up taking him in. Other governments certainly wouldn’t be as merciful as us… anyway, take me through what happened Commander. Starting with your arrival here…”

Spock ended up repeating basically word for word the story Una had given him, with only a few extra unnecessary details thrown in. Richards seems mostly satisfied, clearly happy to just have an open and shut case for once, so he was not overly grilled on any potential inconsistencies that he might’ve noticed under more suspicious circumstances. After some further light probing, he eventually tells him he’s good to go, asking Spock if he would like any further medical assistance while he’s here, which he declines, stating he’d rather be treated back on the Enterprise. Richards insists on walking them to the door at least, but just as they reach the main lobby area, his communicator starts buzzing urgently, and he looks over at them apologetically.

“Sorry, I should take this- I asked my men to give me an update on the situation as soon as possible. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else from either of you…”

“Of course, officer.”, Una smiles at him, her eyes inching towards the door, clearly ready to leave. “You have a good day, now!”

Spock gives him a simple Vulcan salute, and soon the two of them are striding towards the front entrance, as fast as they can without looking overly suspicious.

Just as the door swishes open however, they hear the sound of Richard’s furious voice booming all the way from the other side of the room, catching the attention of several other Starfleet employees who stop mid-stroll to crane their necks around to look at the source of the disturbance:

“THE HELL YOU MEAN HE MANAGED TO ESCAPE?!”

And with that, the two of them make their leave.

Chapter Text

They finally break for lunch, both Starfleet members and Vallen politicians filing into the gardens where a large buffet was set out, servants standing around holding trays of drinks. Jim helps himself to a bowl of soup, before pulling a face at the watery dishwater taste.

“Bad soup, huh?”, Dr. Chakrabarti chortles, sitting himself down across from Jim, Bones and Uhura. “Damn strange tastebuds these Vallens… don’t seem to believe in adding salt to anything.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed…”, Jim grimaces, pushing the bowl away and getting started on his chicken salad instead. “How are you doing, doctor? Seems like you’ve gotten yourself a day off, after your little blow up with Lawson…”

“Would still rather be in my lab, Kirk.”, Chakrabarti grumbles, biting into a bread roll. “Who knows what state our ensigns will have left it in by the time I get back… oh dear god, Jeff!”, he suddenly splutters as Captain Perkins sits himself beside them, his mouth set in a thin, straight line. “Leave some food for the rest of us, will ya?”

“… hm?”, Perkins frowns over at his friend, clearly having been lost in thought before turning back to his admittedly piled up tray- Jim was surprised he’d been able to carry his plate all the way over here without the cheese tower falling over, or the pile of beef brisket. “Oh, yes. Well, you know me Tarak… I stress eat, and this day has certainly been testing me…”

Jim can’t help but gaze over at Perkin’s plate enviously, picking at his own measly salad. He couldn’t so much as breathe near a bread roll without gaining a gut, and Perkins could apparently pack it away and still have a flat stomach.

“That bad, huh Jeff? What did I miss then?”

The four of them fill Chakrabarti on the latest news about Cermat 7, and he growls ‘bastards!’ and ‘bloody bureaucrats…’ at the appropriate moments. Indeed, Jim was so absorbed in the conversation, he loses track of time until he hears a bell tolling nearby, indicating the hour. Quickly, he stands himself up from the table and announces he needs to go find the bathroom, earning himself a weary glance from Bones, who had probably been hoping Jim had changed his mind about checking out the bunker. He gives his friend a reassuring smile as he leaves, but the sceptical expression does not leave his face. He also noticed Perkins regarding him curiously- perhaps he was picking up a strange vibe from the two of them?

Regardless, it did not matter now.

His time was limited, and he was going to take advantage of every minute he had left.

*****************************************************************************************

He finds Meeriana’s guard friend hanging around the main hall, and he whispers softly to her that he wants the cameras turned off near the princess’s quarters and she nods obligingly, telling him to wait five minutes before marching away.

He waits the whole five minutes before heading off, making a quick detour near the toilet facilities for plausible deniability. As he continues along the corridors, Meeriana’s sketch of the castle grounds ever present in his mind.

Then, suddenly, he nearly walks straight into someone, and he’s halfway through an apology when he realises with a sinking heart just who it is.

“Captain Kirk?”, Feronzi smiles sweetly, her white fangs shining in the sunlight streaming in from the window. She’s in a different dress from the one she had on in the meeting- presumably she’d gone to her room to change. “My, what a pleasant surprise! Or… is it? A surprise I mean?”, she whispers breathily, walking forward and putting a hand on his arm- Jim suppresses the urge to shudder. “Were you… looking for me? Trying to get me on my own?”

Her finger starts stroking his hand, and he quickly pulls it away, earning an amused glance from her.

“Apologies, your highness. I was just… trying to find somewhere quiet to take a call. I’ve had an urgent message from my chief engineer on the Enterprise. Now, if you excuse me…”

He makes to walk away, but she puts her hand on his chest, and Jim can’t help but freeze when he feels the sharp claws slightly pierce his dress shirt.

Just like… that night…

He truly feels sick now, but she doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to smile and press her other hand up against his face, stroking slowly and Jim hates himself for freezing up, that he’s not immediately pushing herself off or stalking away now, the hell was wrong with him…

“You seem stressed, Captain…”, she purrs, continuing to stroke his face, almost seeming to enjoy the way he flinches. “Why don’t you come back with me, to my quarters? The talks won’t be starting up again for a good while, and I’d love it if you showed me your… uninhibited nature like you did the other night…”

“Your highness!”, a voice suddenly bellows, and Jim had never been so happy to hear another person’s voice in his life. “A word, please?”

The two of them look down the corridor, and there stands Captain Perkins, hands behind his back and an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. An irritated look passes over Feronzi’s before switching back to her usual sickly-sweet smile.

“Captain Perkins, I am quite occupied at the moment- talk to my advisors or my husband if you must, I try not to get involved with politics…”

“It is you I wish to talk to, your highness.”, Perkins says politely but firmly, the scowl not leaving his face. He turns to Jim and nods primly. “Captain Kirk, apologies, this is not meant for your ears- would you mind if we go talk in private your highness?”

The smile leaves Feronzi’s face, and her eyes darken, faked amiability completely dissipated.

“How dare you try and order me…”

“… or would Captain Kirk here like to hear about what went on last month in your mother’s holiday home?”, Perkins says cooly, taking another decisive step forward. “Or your mother for that matter?”

Her eyes widen a second, before turning back to abject fury.

“How did you…”

“You’re not the only one with eyes and ears, your highness. And as a captain who has just lost his ship… well, I have little to lose.”, Perkins says calmly, before taking a small step back and holding his arm out. “I see the conference room down there is free right now- shall we?”

Feronzi seems lost for words for a moment, before setting her face into a neutral expression and nodding slowly:

“Of course… let’s get this nonsense over with. Captain Kirk?”, she nods over at Jim who is watching this whole exchange with open fascination. “Let’s continue this… later. My offer of a private tour of our home still stands…”

Jim murmurs something non-committal before bowing deeply, and she seems satisfied enough with this to walk away, giving him a seductive wink as she goes.

When they both disappear off into the side room, Jim sprints away, very much aware of the minutes he has lost now. Thankfully, he does not meet anyone else on his way to the royal chambers, the corridors cleared of guards and cameras deactivated as promised.

When he finally reaches the door, he uses the provided key card and punches in the correct code, and enters the princess’s bedroom, as decadent and luxurious as expected, all the furniture carved out of white marble and lined with silver and expensive stones. Jim wanders over to the bookcase, scanning his eyes over the expanses of first editions until he finally spots what he is looking for- a Vallen prayer book, thick and worn from years of use. He moves it out the way, and grins when he sees some kind of lock mechanism, as promised by Meeriana’s instructions. He can’t help but notice the lack of dust- did that mean Feronzi had used the bunker recently? And for what purpose?

He presses the key pendant he’d been keeping under his uniform into the mechanism, and with a whirr then a click, the bookcase slowly slides to the side, revealing a heavy, ancient-looking metal door behind it. Heart beating wildly, Jim glances towards the bedroom door, but no one outside the room seems to have noticed the noise, so he takes it as a go-ahead to continue.

He opens up the locket and holds the small piece of hair up to the sensor panel on the right side of the metal door, and almost immediately, he hears a cranking and groaning from deep within. After a few more seconds, the door swings open slowly but without a creak, like the hinges had recently been oiled. All he can make out inside is some stone steps that quickly disappear into seemingly endless darkness below. He turns on the light on his tricorder and takes a quick scan, first for radiation, then for biohazards, then for lifeforms…

His tricorder starts beeping and flashing away and Jim stares down at the readings he’s getting- it’s faint, but unmistakeable.

According to his device, there’s a lifeform down below.

He steps slowly down, trying to get a clearer reading, to see if whatever down there is humanoid or not, but the thick stone must be blocking the signal. As he moves down further into the cool, dark depths he hesitates a second- what if whoever was down there was a member of the royal household, or a guard? Someone who could set off an alarm? Or maybe she kept dangerous animals down here as pets, something that thrived in the darkness…

It would be safer to turn back at this point, return to Bones and Uhura. Yes, it would.

He should turn back now. He already had what he came for, he could go back to the Enterprise, call today a job well done, coordinate his findings with Spock…

But even as he thought this, he knew, in his heart of hearts, that he wasn’t going to turn back.

Because his gut was saying he needed to see whatever down there, and James T. Kirk’s whole life had consisted of going with his gut- and that wasn’t going to change now, despite all good sense to the contrary.

Taking a deep breath, he makes his way into the darkness below.

Chapter Text

As Jim makes his way further down the stairs, his tricorder his only light source, he begins to notice a strong smell that only seems to grow in pungency as he descends. It brings to mind the barnyards he’d hang out in during his childhood on Earth, specifically for livestock, but one that hadn’t been properly cleaned in a very long time. There was also an undercurrent of… rotting, like meat that had gone bad. By the time he’s reached the last step, he has to put his sleeve over his hand and mouth, the smell is so powerful, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

He shines his light in the darkness, looking around at the sparsely decorated room, quite a contrast to the princess’s lavish quarters upstairs. There was a computer built into the far stone wall, a seating area and some shelves filled with some old books and ornaments, but nothing that could account for the terrible smell. That went beyond just simple damp or rot…

Just then, he hears something, a clatter and faint groan, like something was in pain. He whirls around, expecting to see some kind of figure, but there’s nothing but the far wall and a simple metal door. He thinks about calling out but thinks better of it- if there was anything living behind that door, best he had the element of surprise on his side. Humanoid or animal, he had no way of knowing if whatever he had picked up on his tricorder posed a danger to himself or not.

He pulls out his phaser and sets it to stun, before slowly but surely making his way forward, until he’s standing right outside the door, the smell now stronger than ever. He scans the door and finds it to be a simple locking mechanism, which he picks easily, and it swings open on its hinge with only a slight creak.

Taking a deep breath, he shines his light in and is met with the sight of… a bathroom. The ground looks filthy, the toilet, sink and shower covered in black mould and algae, but a bathroom, nonetheless. Of course, it would make sense to have such a thing down here, in a survival bunker, but that didn’t explain the lifeform readings he picked up, or the noise…

He hears that groan again and he flicks his light over to the other side of the room, to a wall with a lot of exposed piping running up and down the wall. There’s a pile of old clothes piled up down below…

No, not clothes. It was moving…

Cautiously, Jim starts moving towards the quivering mass, holding his hand out as he did so.

“Hey…”, he whispers, as he crouches down next to what seems to be a humanoid creature, their back to him, curled up against the pipes and shivering. “Are you oka…?”

Suddenly, the mass ceases quivering, and a clawed hand lashes out from the darkness, white hot pain erupting on the right side of his face.

*****************************************************************************************

“Goddamn man!”, Bones growls as he checks his watch, Uhura scanning the room beside him. “We’ve only got fifteen minutes until we gotta go back in there- what’s keeping him so long?!”

“Maybe he’s found something interesting?”, Uhura shrugs as she politely declines a nearby servant’s offer of a drink. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back… and if he’s not, we’ll think up an excuse. That he had to take an urgent call or something.”

Bones is about to grumble away again, when suddenly his comm badge starts buzzing away. He frowns down at it, before pressing cautiously, looking around to make sure no one else is within hearing distance:

“Jim? Everything okay?”

“Bones.”, Jim’s whispered voice comes through the line, sounding clipped and urgent. “Need you here. Now. Sending you my coordinates, and bring your medical equipment… hurry!”

“Jim, what are you…”, he starts, but Jim hangs up before he can so much as finish, the line going silent. He shakes his head and looks over at Uhura, who looks as bemused as he does. “Lieutenant, do you think you can…”

“… hold the fort here? Of course, doctor.”, she says primly, straightening her back slightly. “But please be back as soon as you can- I can only stall for so long.”

He smiles gratefully, and with that he speed walks off as discretely as he can, not making eye contact with anyone as he goes, hoping him constantly checking his tricorder for Jim’s coordinates isn’t too obvious.

Eventually, the crowds disperse, and he finds himself alone in a whole other side of the palace, devoid of guards thank god. Soon, he’s right where Jim’s coordinates told him to be, right outside a white and gold ornate door. He regards it wearily, unsure if he should knock or not, when suddenly it swings open, revealing Jim and Bones cannot help but gasp out loud at the sight of him.

“Jim!”, he hisses, rushing forward and making him turn his head to the side where there were now four, deep, bloody gashes, bright red liquid dribbling down the side of his neck. “What in the blazes happened…”

“Not out here Bones!”, he mutters, before pulling him inside the room forcefully and shutting the door behind them. He continues to pull him towards a large open stairwell, presumably leading down to the bunker. “Come on! You brought your medkit right? We don’t have a minute to lose…”

“Jim, I can just as easily heal you up here. Now, let me look at the damage…”

“Not for me, Bones! Heal me after, of course, but she’s the priority right now…”

“She? Jim, who do you…”

But he’s already bounding down the stairs two at the time, and Bones has to wheeze after him, reminding himself to add more cardio to his gym routine once he was back on the ship. He grimaces as the putrid smells hits him, gagging on the foul air as he follows Jim’s towards the open metal door.

“Jeez, Jim… did something die down here?! Let me heal that now, you’re gonna get an infection with whatever bacteria is floating around down here…”

But Jim ignores him and runs into the open room, and Bones just sighs and goes in after him, doing his best not to throw up as the smell becomes even more overwhelming. He points his own tricorder light over towards the direction of Jim, and what he sees makes him gasp in shock.

Jim is leant over what at first glance is a pile of rags with a black mop atop, but at second glance was a humanoid figure, skinny arms and legs poking out from what might have once been a dress. Dark, greasy hair covers most of her face, and as his light hovers over her head, they let out a pained yelp and screw their eyes shut, sharp teeth clenched.

“Bones!”, Jim hisses, putting a hand on the figure’s shoulder. “Dim your light a bit… I think she’s been in the dark a long time. It’s hurting her eyes…”

Obediently, Bones does so, leaning over the figure carefully with Jim, taking special care not to shine his light directly into her dark eyes. Up close now, he can tell she’s a Vallen, though her once blue skin was now an unhealthy grey pallor, likely from lack of sunlight. Dear god, how long did a Vallen have to be down here to go that colour? Weeks? Months?

She starts whimpering, and Jim strokes her hair soothingly, whispering as he does so:

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay now… my friend Bones is here, the doctor I told you about. He’ll have you right as rain in a minute, then we can get you out of here, okay?”

As Jim continues to brush her hair away, the rest of her face is now exposed, and Bones gasps out loud for a second time.

It couldn’t be.

But it was unmistakeable- the skin was now grey, the face thin and sunken in, black eyes wide and terrified, but that did nothing to take away from the uncanny likeness.

He was looking straight into the face of Princess Feronzi.

Chapter Text

He stares down at the woman a while longer, mouth agape- she’s laid out on her side on the cold floor, wearing a garment that seemed to consist of a corset and tatters of filthy fabric, the original colour of which was now impossible to tell. The corset itself was falling off her, dangerously thin as she was, every bone visible under the dim light of his tricorder. He saw scratch marks around the manacles on her wrist, likely self-inflicted. The chains themselves were now broken, a burnt smell in the air suggesting Jim had blasted them off with his phaser. Further to the right, was a bucket and from the ammonia smell, it didn’t take a genius to guess its purpose. Apparently, whoever had left her chained up down here didn’t even have the decency to leave her within walking distance of the actual toilet.

She gazes up at him, but her black eyes are become increasingly dazed and unfocused, exhaustion threatening to overcome her any second now.

“Jim, that’s…. she’s…”

“Yes, I can see that Bones!”, Jim snaps at him, pushing him on the shoulder. “Now patch her up, would ya?! And… help me get these tubes out of her neck!”

“Tubes?”, Bones repeats, frowning down at the malnourished woman and gently turning her head slightly and immediately sees what Jim is talking about- two metallic-looking tubes are embedded into the side of her neck. He lets his gaze follow to where they lead to some kind of device attached to the wall behind the piping. Bones crawls over to a get a closer look at it, running his tricorder over the device, his face turning grim as he views the readings.

“Jim, this is… this thing is pumping nourishment and antibodies into her- so one tube to make sure she doesn’t die of dehydration or starvation, and the other to make sure she doesn’t die of bacterial or viral infections. It’s been keeping her alive, but…”, Bones sighs, looking down at his current patient’s pitiful state. “… but that’s about it. From the looks of her, I don’t think she’d had a solid meal in a… long time. Or seen the sun for that matter.”

The woman… Feronzi maybe, mumbles something softly, and Jim leans down next to her face and asks her to repeat it, but she doesn’t respond. When Bones looks back at them, he sees that her eyes are closed and she’s breathing shallowly but somewhat regularly, each one sounding extremely taxing. He takes her pulse and runs his tricorder down her body, happy to note no damage to her major organs, though she is extremely weak, with next to no muscle tissue. There’s bruising on every inch of her skin and her vocal cords are extremely inflamed and scarred.

Likely from screaming for help…

“Bones?”, Jim whispers, prodding his friend who is still in full analysis mode. “Do your magic, please?”

“There’s only so much I can do, Jim.”, Bones replies grimly, taking his dermo regenerator out of his pocket and placing it near her throat. “I only have my basic medical necessities with me, and she needs proper attention… fast. I’ll heal her up enough so she can survive being beamed back onto the Enterprise- that’s her best hope. I don’t trust these people here to look after her… for all we know, they could be in on it.”

“True…”, Jim murmurs, before pointing over at the tubes again. “I tried cutting these things off, then blasting them with my phaser… but nothing. Made of some kind of indestructible material that requires the intensity of a supernova to make any dent…”

“Can’t you just remove the device from the wall?”

“Tried that too… but it’s attached by a self-induced, high-intensity magnetic field to the alloy metal. And I can’t find a way to overcome it without setting off the fail-safe… which in this case is an electric shock for her.”, Jim sighs, closing his eyes. “Luckily she stopped me from interfering any further before that happened… but it was a close thing.”

“Right…”, Bones raises his tricorder over the device again and sees that Jim’s information is very much correct. “Okay, I’ll just… heal her up best as I can for now and give her a shot of adrenaline to wake her up. Who knows, maybe she’ll have an idea of how we can help her remove it.

He works rapidly but thoroughly, taking special care particularly around the throat area and her wrists, where the manacles had rubbed the skin raw. Her breathing is still troubled, but it sounds a little less painful as he finishes up on the throat tissue, doing as good a job as he can for now.

When he’s satisfied he’s done as much as he is able, he takes a hypo spray and presses it inter her shoulder, far more gently than was usual for him (at least in Jim’s experience). Immediately, her eyes fly open, and she’s sitting up, staring over at the two men, panicked at first, but then there’s some recognition in her eyes.

“You…”, she rasps out hoarsely, staring at Jim, her vocal cords still sounding painfully strained despite Bones’s best attempts at healing them. “… I didn’t… dream you?”

“No. You didn’t.”, Jim smiles at her softly, staying close by but not touching her. “We’re here to get you out of here… Feronzi, I assume?”

“Yes…”, she whispers in a way that makes it sound like she isn’t even sure anymore. “You’re not… with her?”

“Her?”, Jim frowns, tilting his head slightly. “Who’s her?”

“She… she looks like me. But she… she… isn’t. I’m not certain, but I think she’s…”

But before she can finish, she starts coughing profusely, her eyes watering as she doubles over, and Bones gently guides her back down into a horizontal position, all while murmuring platitudes about not overexerting herself.

“Bones…”, Jim whispers intently, leaning over. “If we just beamed her up now, wouldn’t that solve our problem? After all, the tubes wouldn’t beam up with her!”

“Jim, if we do that, she’s gonna have two large holes on the side of her neck, and either bleed to death on this side or before she even fully re-materialises on the transporter pad.”

“I take your point, doctor…”, Jim sighs, running his tricorder over the device again and desperately scanning through the readings for an answer. “Maybe if we combined both our phaser power?”

“Still wouldn’t be enough thermal energy… and very unstable. Could just as easily hurt ourselves and her.”

“Feronzi…. uh, your highness…”, Jim coughs awkwardly, looking down at her as he points at the tubes protruding from her neck. “Any idea how we might remove these?”

Even in as much agony as she presumably was, she still manages to give him the most disbelieving of looks.

“If I knew that…”, she manages to rasp out painfully. “… do you think I would be in this situation?!”

“… fair enough.”, Jim says bashfully, taking her point. “Bones, any other ideas?”

“Well…”, Bones says slowly, running his tricorder over her neck again. “… I have one. But it’s… not without risk. And will definitely be painful…”

“Right now, Bones, we’re taking any suggestions!”, Jim exclaims, wringing his hands in exasperation. “Hit me!”

“Well… the skin here is fairly thin. We might not be able to damage the actual tubing, but if we slice away the actual skin here…”

Jim stares at him, completely dumbfounded.

“Bones…”, he whispers. “That would kill her!”

“No Jim… only if she bleeds out. If I make the cut then immediately cauterise the wound…” Bones clicks a button on his phaser, and it starts glowing white hot for emphasis. “… well, it’ll hurt like hell, but wound closed. But I’ll have to be quick about it. I can give her a sedative to help with the pain, but I don’t have my strongest stuff with me unfortunately.”

“Bones, maybe we should just go back to the ship and get someone to help…”

“No!”, Feronzi shouts as much as she is able, the words catching painfully in her throat. “Don’t leave me! Just… do what you have to do, please!” Her voices catches, tears falling down her face as she whispers: “I just want to get out of here…”

Jim looks down at her a moment, before nodding solemnly and looking over at Bones:

“Doctor, is there any way I can…”

“Just hold her down, Jim… I need her as still as possible. And… make arrangements with Scotty for beam up.”

He does so over his communicator and asks Scotty to make sure Dr. M’Benga and his team are present in the transporter room.

“Got a patient here for them… she’s in bad shape, very weak, make sure they have a gurney ready.”

“Aye, sir. Just give me her position and let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Thanks Scotty.”, Jim mutters, pinning a homing device onto the front of Feronzi’s dress. “Have activated her position- should be good to go in a few minutes. Please stand ready to transport.”

“Will do, sir. I’ll be here.”

With that, he snaps his communicator shut and turns back to see Bones sticking another hypospray into Feronzi’s shoulder.

“For the pain.”, he nods, looking down at her. “Like I said though, it’ll only help somewhat- warning you now.”

“It’s fine. Just… do it!”, she says through gritted teeth.

Bones nods obligingly and reaches into his bag and pulls out a very sharp looking surgical instrument, which Feronzi can’t help but widen her eyes at as he holds it up to the side of her neck, phaser on thermal setting in the other hand.

“Jim, hold her down…”, Bones mutters, leaning down and studying the area of skin surrounding the tubes carefully. “I need her as still as possible if this is going to go well…”

Jim shuffles forward and awkwardly holds Feronzi down by the elbows, firmly but hopefully without hurting her- she’s so thin, it felt like she might snap in two if he held her down too hard.

She takes a deep breath as Bones brings the sharp implement close to her neck, screwing her eyes shut as it presses against the skin. She starts shaking profusely, and Bones can’t help but sigh in exasperation, resisting the urge to tell her to stay still.

Instead he says:

“Hey, before I can proceed, you need to tell me something.”

“What?”, she croaks, still shuddering, though he can tell she’s really trying not to.

“Which hand do you use to write with?”

And with that, she cranks one eye open, her expression one of visible confusion.

“What?”

“Which hand? Come on, it’s important.”

“What does that have to do with anything…?”

“Come on, we’re on a time-limit here! Which hand?”

Still looking confused, she considers him carefully before responding:

“Well, I guess I’m…”

Fast as lightning, Bones slices through the skin on her neck like paper and she lets out a horrific, agonising scream, drowning out the sound of the two tubes falling to the ground with a soft clatter. Just as fast, the dermo regenerator is pressed to her neck, the sound and smell of sizzling flesh emanating throughout the room and this time she doesn’t scream, simply gasping and shaking before falling completely limp, somehow becoming even greyer and paler. Jim stares down at the limp woman in his arms before snapping his head up to confront Bones:

“Is she…”

“She’s fine, Jim.”, Bones mutters, taking out his tricorder and running it up and down her body once again. “Just passed out from the shock. I’ll just heal the burn now, give her a dose of adrenaline and she should be good to go.”

“What the hell was that whole hand business all about?”, Jim demands as the doctor presses the regenerator to the side of her neck, where the skin was still smoking.

“I needed her to calm down somewhat… and confusion is a great distraction.” He shrugs when Jim gives him a disbelieving look, inserting the hypospray into Feronzi’s limp arm. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Jim just shakes his head at his friend, and flips open his communicator, dialling up the Enterprise:

“Scotty? Beam her up.”

Chapter Text

“Oh damn!”, Meeriana whistles as she greets Spock off the shuttlecraft, pointing at his head wound. “You look like you’ve been through k’zkah and back! What happened?”

“My head collided with a computer, and then the ground.”

“… can you elaborate on that?”

“Unfortunately we ran into some complications while collecting evidence. Security was alerted, and your friend Kol covered for us by pretending to take us hostage. Which naturally meant stunning me, and holding Admiral Chin-Riley at gunpoint.”

Meeriana blinks at him, his words taking a moment to fully sink in.

“Kol… he was with you? Wait, is he okay? Did they…”

“He was arrested in the time I was unconsious, but I have learnt he somehow was able to make his escape not long after the shuttlecraft he was boarded on left orbit- apparently he managed to hijack an escape pod.”

“Oh… so he’s on the run again, then?”, Meeriana sighs, hugging her arms around herself. “Damn it, I didn’t want to drag him into my mess like this… I know he had a pretty comfortable living situation on Cermat 7, more comfortable than anywhere else he’s been in years…”

“It was his choice to get involved in this, Meeriana- he very much knew the risks.”, Spock says bluntly but with no harshness to his tone, his hands clasped behind his back as they make their way down the corridor towards the transporter room for an update on the away team. “Of course, if he ever requires a temporary safehouse, I am sure Captain Kirk would be willing to hide him aboard the Enterprise, and in the meantime we can do our best to locate him some more permanent lodgings.”

“That’s a nice offer, Mr. Spock… but I doubt Kol would accept help from anyone in Starfleet- he’s proud like that.”, Meeriana says softly, a half-smile on her lips which quickly turns back into a grimace. “I hope he’ll be okay… he’s gotten out of some tight situations before, but you can only have good luck for so long.”

Spock has no good answer to this, so they continue to walk over to the transporter room in silence. However, this brief respite of peace is quickly interrupted when Dr. M’Benga and two medical officers pass ahead of them at great speed, one of them pushing a gurney that nearly hits Spock on the leg.

He and Meeriana stare after them as they make a sharp left at the end of the corridor, disappearing from sight. Spock is very well aware that the only rooms round that corner are the transporter room and some bathroom facilities.

Despite his very best to repress it, he feels panic well up within him.

Jim…

He starts speed walking the rest of the way, Meeriana matching his pace, and as the door swishes open in front of them, they find the medical team gathered around the transporter pad, while Scotty and another technician are at the control panel, turning their dials as the machine lights up and starts whirring away.

“Commander Scott?”, Spock says briskly, walking up beside him and quickly scanning the readings below- they did not match those of a Terran-based humanoid. “Why has the medic team been requested here? Has someone been injured planet-side?”

“Afraid I can’t help you there, Mr. Spock.”, Scotty frowns as he leans over to adjust a lever. “Captain Kirk just said whoever it is required medical attention- I don’t recognise the biometric fingerprint. Anyway…”, the control panel starts lighting up and whooshing away. “… energising now!”

On the transporter pad, a figure lying in a horizontal position begins to shimmer into existence, and after phasing in and out a few more times, they fully solidify, revealing someone grey-skinned and covered in rags, messy black hair covering most of their face. As they groan and try to push themselves up by their skeletal limbs, Dr. M’Benga and one of his officers rush forward and gently pulls them up, guiding them slowly off the platform.

“Hey, that’s good now…”, M’Benga says encouragingly as the figure stumbles forward clumsily, holding their side like it’s hurting. “Just going to get you onto the stretcher here, just a few more steps…”

Another stumble, and the hair falls out of her face a little, the two medics catching her easily. When she raises her head again, a loud gasp comes from beside Spock and he turns to see Meeriana staring at the figure, all colour gone from her face, a shocked expression upon it.

It takes Spock a second longer to realise the reason for her disconcertment.

The woman, who looks very much like the princess regent, looks around the room a moment, squinting like she’s having a hard time adjusting to the bright lights.

Then her gaze falls on Meeriana, and it’s now her turn to gasp.

The two women stare at each other for a good while, both not quite believing what they are seeing, like at any moment the illusion in front of them might disappear. The doctors try to guide their patient forward, but she remains frozen on the spot, mouth agape, her body shaking with the effort of remaining standing.

“M… Miri?”, she croaks out, her voice hoarse and painful-sounding, and Meeriana can’t help but wince at the sound of it.

Meeriana walks shakily forward towards the woman, eyes trained on her like a hawk the whole time, not daring to believe it, she couldn’t believe it. But as she gets closer, the features stay familiar, albeit with signs of severe hardship and horrors that definitely weren’t there the last time she'd seen her in the flesh.

“Zee?”, Meeriana whispers, now one step away from the vision before her, the simple utterance containing a multitude of questions within it, beyond just the obvious.

Suddenly, Feronzi surges forward with a surprising strength given her seemingly feeble state, out of the arms of the doctors and straight into Meeriana’s, who only just manages to catch her.

“Miri…”, she sighs, resting her head on the crook of her neck and Meeriana can’t help but inhale sharply as she does so- she’s cold to the touch, and underneath the layers of grime, there’s a familiar scent.

One she hasn’t smelt in a long time… didn’t think she was ever going to again, except in the worst of circumstances.

Feronzi raises her head up to look at her, with what might be a smile on her face, but it looks fairly strained, like she hasn’t done so in a long time. Then, her expression changes to one of confusion, a line forming between her eyebrows as she takes her in more fully.

She raises her hand slowly and hovers it above the burnt part of Meeriana’s face, not quite touching, her gaze turning towards the fake eyeball, the disfigured lip and exposed muscle tissue running up and down her arms.

“Miri? Your face… what… what happened…”, Feronzi says shakily, her face a strange mixture of bewildered and utterly horrified.

Suddenly, she slumps forward, her eyes rolling back in her head as her body becomes very limp and heavy in Meeriana’s arms, who looks desperately at the doctors for help.

M’Benga rushes forward and grabs Feronzi, laying her arm over his shoulder, before taking out his tricorder to do a full-body scan. His expression relaxes a little when he sees the readings, smiling over at Meeriana who is doing her very best not to completely freak out right now.

“Passed out from exhaustion… she’ll be fine. It is critical that we get her to sickbay now though, make sure we can undo the worst of the damage… Phil, you take her legs- let’s get her onto the stretcher.”

They do so, and as she is carried out the room, Meeriana’s stare does not leave Feronzi’s face until she disappears from view, the door of the transporter room swishing shut on them. Meeriana tries to remember to breathe, the room swimming in front of her as she leans on the control panel for support, her body shaking.

“Hey, hey, lassie…”, Scotty says soothingly, rubbing her back a little. “You feeling a little faint yourself? You need to sit down?”

“No, no, I’m fine… I’m fine… I…”, Meeriana gulps a little as she chokes on her words, the room still refusing to stop spinning.

Her head snaps up and she looks at Spock, who is standing there, looking as calm as ever, albeit a little more contemplative than usual.

 “That was her, Mr. Spock!”, she hisses, her fist going down on the control panel for emphasis, earning a slight wince from Scotty. “Or at least… at least someone who looked like her… but it can’t be her… saw her… saw her on television just the other day and she looked fine. She didn’t look… half-dead, she didn’t look like that, like, like…”

Meeriana shudders, the words dying on her lips as she remembers the protruding bones, the matted hair, the grey skin….

“Mr. Spock…”, she whispers, her eyes pleading now. “Please tell me… what the k’zkah is going on? Why... was a woman who looks just like Zee… Feronzi transported up to the Enterprise? And why does she look like… like that?”

“I’m very sorry, Miss Meeriana, but to use a Terran idiom…”, Spock says slowly, wincing a little as the cut on the side of his head opens up again, a stab of pain emanating from the afflicted area. “… I am as much in the dark as you are.”

Chapter Text

“Jim…”, Bones pushes himself up from where he was kneeling, gazing down at where his patient had been lying just a moment before. “… what the hell is going on here?”

“I’m not entirely sure, Bones…”, Jim sighs, standing back and taking in their squalid surroundings once again. “But if I had to guess… I would wager that was the real Feronzi we just beamed up.”

“Okay…”, Bones says slowly, before pointing up at the ceiling, a wild look in his eyes: “… but if that’s the case… who the hell is the woman masquerading as her upstairs?!”

“We’ll figure that out later, doctor.”, Jim mutters, making his way over to the door- he wanted to be out of this godforsaken place as soon as he was able. That someone had been kept as a prisoner down here… unthinkable. “In the meantime, let’s get back before people notice our absence…”

“You’ll have no argument from me, Jim. Although…”, Bones suddenly grabs him by the arm and twirls him around. “You’d best let me heal those scratches first… gotta give the girl credit, her aim was impeccable.”

K****************************************************************************************

Jim rubs at the smooth, freshly-healed skin as he and Bones make their way back into the main hall. To his surprise, most of the delegates are still gathered around the room, talking furiously amongst themselves, rather than funnelling back into the meeting room as they should’ve been doing by this time.

Uhura catches his eye from across the room and she hurries over to them, whispering urgently into his ear:

“Captain! They’re not letting us back inside the room yet, said there’s something urgent they need to attend to- is this something to do with your prying?”

Jim frowns at her, and shakes his head:

“No- nobody saw us, as far as I could tell. And I was careful to put everything back where I found it.”, he whispers back, before thinking of the prisoner being kept down in the bunker. “Well… mostly everything.”

Uhura looks extremely alarmed by this comment, but he assures her it’s not like that, and he’ll fill her in on everything later.

“Well, I say we make our excuses and head back to the Enterprise now.”, Bones says, crossing his arms and gazing across the room, where several guards are blocking the door to the meeting room. “Clearly some mess has come up with them, and I refuse to sit through another three hours with those bloody bureaucrats and self-important nobles.”

“Usually, I’d disagree Dr. McCoy, but considering the foul mood the princess is in… I would also prefer to make a swift exit.”, Uhura says, nodding over at where Princess Feronzi (or, perhaps the woman impersonating her) is yelling at several catering staff over some trivial matter. “She left to change her dress, didn’t return for a good while, and came back in here with a thundercloud over her head. I wondered what happened…”

“Perkins.”

“Sir?”, Uhura turns to look over at her captain, clearly confused.

“Perkins. He requested to speak to her. I… ran into them both on the way to the royal chambers, and he seemed… agitated. Not surprising, considering how today has gone for him, but it was… strange.”

Jim scans the room, but sees no sign of Captain Perkins amongst the crowd, though he does spy Dr. Chakrabarti standing by that plant again, discretely sneaking some canapes into his lab coat.

“Interesting…”, Uhura murmurs. “I did see him re-enter the hall not long after she did… I wonder what he wanted to talk about?”

“Who cares?”, Bones mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “He was probably trying to bargain with her, trying to get his ship back or something… point it, nothing to do with us. Now, who do we have to talk to about leaving?”

“Uhura?”, Jim turns to look at her. “Did you know where Captain Perkins went? I don’t see him in here.”

“I think he went out onto the balcony, Captain… Dr. Chakrabarti said he had to take an urgent call from the Darwin. Why do you ask?”

“I need to talk to him.”, Jim says, his eyeline heading towards where she’s indicating. “Something… just occurred to me.”

“Jim!”, Bones hisses, grabbing his friend by the arm as he moves to walk away. “Don’t you think we should make our leave right now? Before you-know-who discovers you-know-what isn’t you-know-where anymore??”

“I won’t be long, Bones.”, Jim says, pushing his hand off gently. “Fifteen minutes, tops… besides, it’ll look even more suspicious if we head off too quickly, surely?”

“Ugh, fine Jim!”, Bones says throwing his hands up before leaning forward and whispering lowly into his ear so no one else can hear: “But next time we rescue a trapped woman from someone’s basement, I get to decide when we leave the party!”

*****************************************************************************************

The balcony is a massive space, and he finds Perkins standing at the very edge of the circular structure, talking urgently into his communicator, his attention so taken up by whoever he’s speaking to, he doesn’t notice Jim slowly edging his way forward behind him.

Finally, he’s close enough to listen in to Perkin’s side of the conversation:

“No, you listen to me! You don’t just get to call me out of the blue after god knows how many months, ask for a favour, and then refuse to answer my questions! I did as you asked, the least you could do…”

The person on the other end of the line says something that makes Perkins groan in exasperation, his fist clenched hard around the communicator, knuckles whitening.

“Of course it matters! Goddamnit, don’t shut me out again! You brought me into it this time, you can’t get rid of me now… wait, are those sirens? Where the hell are you?!”

A short pause as Perkins listens to the person’s response, his thick brows furrowing together:

“No, that isn’t good enough. You tell me…”, another short pause, and Perkins is suddenly shouting furiously into the microphone, his hand shaking. “No, no, no… don’t you hang up on me again!”

The only response is a dial tone, and Perkins simply stares down at it despondently a moment before sighing and sticking it back into his pocket, a defeated look on his face.

He still hasn’t noticed Jim’s presence.

“Ensign acting unruly, Captain?”, Jim says casually, putting on his best winning smile.

Perkins whirls around, panic in his eyes and body in defense mode, only slightly subsiding when he sees who it is.

“Oh! Captain Kirk!”, Perkins splutters, clearly embarrassed as he straightens his back a little. “You… uh… gave me a fright there! And yes… I mean no! Issue with the Darwin’s… warp conductor. Had to talk to my… chief engineer…”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a poor liar, Perkins?”

At that, Perkin’s eye twitches a little, his mouth thinning.

“I do not believe anyone has, Kirk- I am not in the habit of being deceitful, anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me…”, he says coldly, making to walk away, but Jim steps in front of him, blocking his path.

Perkins raises his eyebrows at him, clearly taken aback.

“Captain Kirk. What are you…”

“You’ve been helping me today. First, you got your science officer to save me from the attentions of the queen mother and Grunig. And then, you distracted the princess when you saw she was bothering me. And you’ve been going out of your way all day to hang out with me and my crew… why? We’re not friends, we hardly know each other. Did someone tell you to keep an eye on me?”

“Captain Kirk!”, Perkins snaps at him, stepping around him and walking off. “I really must be going…”

But Jim steps in front of him again.

“You said to the princess she wasn’t the only one with eyes and ears- who are yours then? Was it whoever you were just talking to right now? Sounded strangely heated… you two fall out or something?”

“What I said to the princess meant nothing!”, Perkins says through gritted teeth. “A bluff, nothing more…”

“Captain, a few days ago, I got in contact with a Bajoran named Kol, who claimed he had many contacts within Starfleet, ones who have been feeding him information on wrongdoings within Starfleet. Corruption, coverups, crimes… you name it. And I put it to you sir…”, Jim steps forward, trying not to feel embarrassed that he has to crane his neck up to look at him in the eye. “… that you are one of those contacts.”

Perkins stares at him with wide eyes a moment, and for a moment Jim almost expects him to say nothing and just make a run for it, leaving him here in the dust.

But then he just sighs, his shoulders deflating as he looks up at the midday sky, a low chuckle rising in his throat, like a sudden weight has been lifted from his chest, freeing them:

“So… he goes by Kol nowadays, does he?”

Chapter Text

“Well… by which name did you know him?”, Jim asks, walking over to the balcony edge with Perkins, who is leaning over, looking at the admittedly glorious view.

“I’ve known him by many names over the years; at this point, I don’t even ask anymore. If you asked, he’d just tell you names are only important to those who want to be known.” Perkins gives a little rueful smile, like he’s thinking on some bitter-sweet memory. “Honestly? I don’t even think he’s sure what his original name was- he never likes to talk about where he grew up, but from the little I do know, it was hardly a conventional childhood.”

“… you two are close then?”, Jim looks over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like the type to open up to just anyone.”

“He isn’t… and yes, I suppose we are.” Perkins frowns a moment, his lips pursing. “Or at least as close as he’ll get to anyone.”

Jim picks up on the bitter tone, but he doesn’t comment for now.

“So… how did you two get involved with each other then? You and him don’t exactly seem like you run in the same circles.”

“You could say that again.”, Perkins chuckles shoving his hands in his pockets. “But believe it or not, we met at university. When I was doing my first PhD, actually.”

“Your… first PhD?”, Jim stares at him a moment, unsure he’s heard correctly. “But that would’ve been…”

“… forty years ago, yes. Forty-two, if we’re endeavouring to be accurate.”, Perkins smirks over at him, and even as taken aback Jim is by this bit of information, he can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the afternoon sun.

“Forty-two… wait!”, Jim splutters a moment, trying to picture Kol in his mind: the smooth, tan skin, the blonde hair devoid of any greys, the youthful grin. “How old was he when you met him? I mean… how old is he now?”

“Not entirely sure, but I would wager a guess he’s around my age… so early sixties. Getting closer to ‘mid-’ everyday.”

“But… I thought Bajorans aged at a similar rate to humans!”, Jim exclaims, not even bothering to hide his utter astonishment.

“They do… remarkable, isn’t it?”, Perkins smiles at him, but there’s the undercurrent of that bitter tone again. “I do suspect the explanation for his eternal youth goes a little beyond just good genetics, but I’ve never got a good answer out of him… he’s an evasive bastard when he wants to be; always manages to steer the conversation away from any subject he doesn’t like discussing.”

“But… why? Why appear young I mean?”, Jim frowns, drumming his fingers on the balcony edge. “Is it a form of disguise or something?”

“I’m not sure, Kirk. Like I said… evasive bastard.”

“Sure…”, Jim nods, tilting his head a little. “So… you two met at university. Was he a student? Were you friends?”

“Yes, on both counts… though even back then he was using a fake identity, and a dozen warrants for arrest on the other side of the galaxy. His stint as a student was just him laying low for a while, until interest from law enforcement died down a little. He mostly kept to himself, but we had some classes and laboratories together and we’d often… butt heads, so to speak. But it was never that serious, it was all in good fun, but I don’t think a day went by we didn’t have some sort of argument. God, we could go at it for hours, our peers must have gotten so sick of us…, point is petty rivalry eventually turned into true friendship, despite both of our better judgements. So, when one day he just up and vanished, well…”, he sighs, rubbing his elbow a little, a downcast expression on his face. “… well, it hurt, I suppose. That he didn’t even say goodbye…”

Jim regards his change in demeanour curiously a moment, but doesn’t say anything, just nods at him to continue.

“Few years later, I decided to join Starfleet, and I was fast-tracked straight to science ensign on the Darwin, thanks to some recommendations from my professors. And it was when we were surveying Tolaz mines that I finally met him again, told me that he had some information for me, and he gave me the exact coordinates for where the endangered creatures, the Kozka, could be found. He asked me to take credit for the find, and I did- the discovery brought Tolaz protection from Vallen hostilities, and it basically made my career. Even though, of course…”, Perkins gives him a sheepish look. “… it was me taking credit for another man’s work.”

“I mean, sounds like a convenient partnership to me.”, Jim smiles. “One of you is the public face of the operation, while the other works behind-the-scenes.”

“Exactly- and for a while, we kept working like that. Ja… Kol, rather, would feed me information through his unofficial sources, and I would act on that information, using the vast Starfleet resources I had at my disposal. Kol is not a stupid man, after all- he knows he is only one man, and that he needs connections to get things done. I just happened to be one of those connections. It’s funny, he gave me such shit when I first talked about joining Starfleet- called me a bootlicker, a Federation puppet, lapdog… but, when it comes down to, he’s not too proud to admit our organisation does some good.” Perkin’s smile flickers a moment, a sad look in his eyes. “At least, until recently…”

“So were you the one informing him about corruption within Starfleet?”, Jim asks, leaning forward a little.

“No… at least, not initially. It was one of his other Starfleet contacts, I believe… don’t ask me who, I really don’t know. I just know he has more than just me. It wasn’t until very recently that we started talking again… we, uh, had a falling out a while ago…”

“What about?”, Jim asks curiously. “I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it, I mean.”

Perkins is silent a moment, simply staring out at the glorious hillsides with their many flowing waterfalls, his eyes working away like he’s fighting an inner battle.

Finally, one side wins out.

“We… I…”, Perkins sighs, resting his arms on the stone in front of him, breathing in and out slowly. “… look, he’s always criticized me for working within the system, I’ve always criticized for him for working outside it. In the end, our goals are the same, we both want to do good in the world, even if our methods differ. And for a while our relationship was very… symbiotic, and mostly functional. But the problem is… he has always made it very clear he considers his own life relatively unimportant, in the grand scheme of things. There was never any mission too dangerous for him, no risk too great and I… just couldn’t agree with him on that.” Perkins leans over the side of the balcony a moment, his face extremely solemn. “I certainly do not consider his life… unimportant. I… care about him. Deeply. More than anyone else in my life…”

‘Ah.’, Jim thinks to himself as he feels a cold breeze rush by, making him shiver slightly as he regards Perkins with a raised brow.

“So you and Kol were… what? In a relationship?”

He seems to consider this question carefully a moment.

“I suppose… though we never really defined it properly. Kind of hard to do that when he would disappear for months at a time without so much as a call.”, Perkins mutters resentfully, drumming his fingers against the stone. “And… I knew there were others that he would use. That he would seduce and flatter to get anything he wanted out of them… perhaps it is stupid of me to think I was any different. But… I like to think he cared. Just out of a sense of nostalgia if nothing else…”

“What happened?”, Jim says softly, as he can’t help but notice the genuine hurt in the older man’s face, the way his eyes are glistening ever so slightly.

“Few years ago, he… ran into some hot water with some slavers, a particular group he was trying to take down. But… the person who gave him their location double-crossed him and gave him up to their leader. Luckily, he managed to send out an emergency signal to me right before they took him away, but… he was still in an awful state by the time me and my first officer found him. They’d… tortured him for information, and the ensuing head trauma put him into a coma for several weeks. Luckily, my immediate circle back on the Darwin are very discrete, so managed to take him back to our sickbay to recover, but dear god… it was close.

When he finally woke up, I was so relieved, told him he could stay for as long as he needed and… he said he needed to leave right this second, to give him a spare shuttle now. Well, I told him he was being ridiculous, that he could barely walk right now and to give it a few days but he kept on insisting…

Anyway, long story short, he ended up stealing one of our shuttlecrafts while I was away working on the bridge, and quite frankly, I was pretty pissed about the whole thing. I managed to eventually hunt him down again, and… well, at first, I thought I was just going to cuss him out about stealing Starfleet property, but instead I ended up… asking him to come back with me. To just give up his outlaw lifestyle before it ended up killing him, and he… didn’t appreciate that. Harsh words were exchanged on both sides, some pretty unforgiveable stuff was said, resentment that had been building up for a while and… after that, I had no word from him for two years. I tried to track him down again, just to know if he was still alive if nothing else, but he clearly didn’t want to be found, not by me, not by anyone… and for good reason. His list of enemies has only quadrupled in size these last few years, and the list of people he felt he could truly trust could be counted on one hand… and clearly, that did not include me anymore.”

Perkins gives a little wistful sigh, rubbing the side of his forehead like he had a headache before continuing:

“Around three months ago I heard from him again, and of course, it was because he wanted something from me- to confirm some rumours of wrong-doing amongst Starfleet’s elite, and also a list of personnel who might be sympathetic to the plight of the Vallen people, and against their government’s upcoming alliance with the Federation. And I will admit, Kirk, that your name was amongst the list I gave him… so I can only assume that’s how you got involved in all this.”

“You recommended me?”, Jim gapes at him a moment, completely perplexed. “Why?”

“You and your crew had been away on your five-year mission, so were mostly protected from the less than savoury politics going on at Starfleet this last year… and I’ve always found you to be an honourable man, James.” Perkins smiles at him then, in a way that makes Jim’s stomach flip a little. “You’re a real credit to your father, George… I see a lot of him in you.”

“You knew my father?”, Jim stares at him, vague memories of a dark-haired, imposing figure beginning to resurface.

“Yes, our paths crossed often with work and the academy. Very driven and dedicated individual… his entire life was Starfleet.”

“You know…”, Jim murmurs, biting down on his lip a little as a troubling thought comes back to him. “… Henson kind of implied that him and my father… were friends back in the day.”

“Please!”, Perkins snorts, looking genuinely amused. “Believe me James, nobody was friends with Henson- even back at the academy he was an insecure, petty individual, obsessed with his family’s so-called ‘noble’ status, like that wasn’t something we as a society didn’t leave back in the dark ages. Probably why he loves sucking up to tyrants and dictators so much… in his mind, we should go back to living under the thumb of the elite, while the rest of us plebeians toil in the fields.”

“Surprised he didn’t get kicked out of Starfleet a long time ago then, with an attitude like that…”, Jim murmurs contemplatively.

“Oh, he eventually was- for a while he was smart enough to keep his opinions to himself, but then the mask slowly but surely began to slip. He was let go from Starfleet when it was discovered he’d made promises to the ruler of the planet that went very much against the Prime Directive, and believe me, he did not go quietly… his breakdown back in San Francisco was legendary amongst those of us there to see it.

That’s why so many of us were surprised when he got re-hired in recent years… but we were less surprised when Starfleet began utilising many of his connections with leaders and CEOs in this quadrant of the galaxy to give the Federation a boost in terms of resources and jurisdiction. It started out subtly at first, but this last year he has only become more blatant about the hold he now has over of our most senior officers. How anyone he doesn’t see eye-to-eye with is let go or disappeared somehow…”

Perkins gives a heavy sigh, suddenly looking very tired, and Jim very much recognised that look- it was an expression he’d often soon on his own face when looking into a mirror.

“You know, James, I originally joined Starfleet because I truly believed in the organisation, its values and goals. When Fe… Kol used to say all so-called ethical organisations eventually fall to greed and authoritarianism, I vehemently disagreed with him. But now…”, he looks up at the sky and closes his eyes, letting out a deep breath: “… I can’t help but think that maybe he was right. After all, look what we’ve already been reduced to: alliances with dictators, petty revenge, dissenters silenced… we’ve become the very thing we used to actively fight against.”

“Hey…”, Jim whispers, reaching up and squeezing his shoulder. “It’s not over yet- not while we have good people amongst our ranks, people who represent the true spirit of Starfleet. And I do consider you to be one of them.”

“You’re a kind man, James…”, Perkins chuckles, shrugging his hand off. “But, quite frankly, I’ve felt less than useless these last few months. And with my captaincy being stripped away, well… I’ll have little resources to help any of you out going forward.”

“Believe me, sir, we need all the help we can get- and your name still holds a lot of respect in most circles, no matter what bastards like Henson or the royals have to say.”

Perkins smiles at him a moment, before it slowly fades from his face, his eyes thoughtful as he gazes upon him.

“Would you mind telling me… how is he? Kol, I mean? I… haven’t seen him in person in a while now, just phone calls and messages. Is he… does he seem well?”

“Yes, I… uh, suppose he does?”, Jim murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to choose his words carefully. “I mean, I don’t know him that well, but he seems… chipper, I guess? Well, mostly. He gave me quite the tongue lashing the other day…”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

“He accused me of kidnapping a friend of his.”, Jim says casually, before putting a hand up when he sees Perkin’s bewildered face. “To be clear, it was all a misunderstanding.”

“I’ll, uh… take your word for it.”, Perkins laughs, shaking his head. “I am sorry Kol got you involved in all this… this espionage business- I have no idea why he asked you to sneak around the castle today, but I am glad you’ve seemed to come out of it unscathed.”

“Oh, no need to be sorry- this was all me and Mr. Spock’s plan really.”, Jim smiles, thinking fondly of how high Spock’s eyebrow is going to raise when he sees his and Bones little discovery.

“You and Spock?”, Perkins stares at him, surprised. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised by you, James, you have quite the reputation as a risk-taker… but I always thought your first officer was very by-the-book.”

“Oh believe me…”, Jim laughs, grinning over at him. “… he gives that impression, but truthfully, he is just as unhinged as I am- if not more so.”

“Really?”, Perkins says, tilting his head a little. “Well, I suppose that makes sense in a way…”

“How so?”

“It would explain why you two get on so well… you know, I didn’t think Vulcans were capable of making a fond expression until that last conference, when you walked into the room and I saw that look on his face.”

Jim flushes a little at that and makes a non-committal noise that seems to amuse Perkins greatly.

“And am I wrong to presume your little partnership goes beyond mere… fondness, yes?”, Perkins grins, nudging him a little.

Jim looks over at him and raises his eyebrows, and that’s all the answer he needs.

“I knew it!”, Perkins laughs, slapping him on the back. “God, you should’ve seen how red your face went there…”

“Oh, shut up.”, Jim mutters sulkily, which only makes Perkins laugh harder.

But as the laughter fades, his face turns to one of melancholy, spiking a note of concern within Jim.

‘Sir? Is everything… alright?”

“Hmmm?”, Perkins murmurs, looking over at Jim with a slightly dazed expression. “Sorry, I was just thinking, well…”, he smiles over at him, his teeth dazzling in the sunlight. “… of how I’m quite jealous of you, James.”

“Of me?”, Jim stares at him, completely gobsmacked as he takes in the handsome gentleman before him, his intelligent eyes, the formal uniform dotted with medals of commendation. “Whatever for?”

“Well… that you have a man such as Mr. Spock by your side. That you’re not like me, constantly looking for someone, reaching out for someone who isn’t there…”, Perkins lets out a heavy sigh as he observes a flock of birds flying by, shrieking against the clear sky. “… you’ll never have to know what it’s like to love someone who may not even care about you at all. But you hold on to that hope anyway… no fool like an old fool, eh?”, he chuckles softly, but with no real humour behind it.

The two men stand there in silence for a bit, looking out onto the landscape below, neither wanting to be the first one to break the silence for now.

Luckily, someone else did that for them.

“Captain Kirk? Captain Perkins!”, a voice calls out, and the two men turn around to see a young yeoman approaching them, his cheeks flushed like he’s been running around for a while. “There you both are! All Starfleet personnel have been ordered to return to their ships or temporary accommodation for now- there’s been a data breach back at the embassy on Cermat 7, and all senior officers’ personal information has been compromised by a nefarious individual. Until the extent of this breach is investigated, all Starfleet members are asked to stay docked planet-side until the remainder of the talks can be rescheduled for another date.”

“Cermat 7?”, Jim whispers softly, his heart plummeting.

Spock…

“Uh… tell me Yeoman?”, Jim takes a step forward, trying to appear suitably calm and authoritative, and not a nervous wreck. “This nefarious individual... have they been identified yet?”

“Oh, yes sir!”, the Yeoman nods eagerly, red bangs falling into his face. “A Bajoran criminal they’ve had their eye on for a while, apparently!”

Jim doesn’t miss the way Perkin’s skin grows a shade greyer underneath his tan, and the way his breath hitches ever so slightly, but the young man does not seem to notice as he continues to chatter away:

“He took Admiral Chin-Riley hostage but thankfully, he was taken down before she could come to any harm.”

Jim nods slowly, taking in this information like he was just reading the daily news bulletin, twisting the cufflinks on his wrist.

“However, I’m sorry to report Captain Kirk, that your first officer was injured while attempting to apprehend him.”

With one last powerful twist, the cufflinks rip through the thin fabric.

Chapter Text

“Where is Commander Spock?!”, Jim demands as soon as he steps off the transporter pad, Bones and Uhura hurrying along after him. “I was told he was injured, but nobody could give me any more detail…”

“He’s fine, Captain!”, Scotty replies, raising his brows as the captain marches towards him, face urgent. “He had a little bonk to the head, but nothing a trip to the sickbay won’t solve…”

“Is that where he is now?”

“No sir- I believe he is in the debriefing room, writing his report…”

Jim doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence as he rushes out of the room and down the hallway, before barging into the briefing room, his focus so intent on his first officer, who is sat at the table, PADD in hand, dark green blood stains leading down from his temple and onto his uniform, that he almost misses Meeriana stood in the corner, hugging herself tightly as clawed hands brush her burn wounds in a painful-looking manner.

“Spock!”, Jim hisses, crossing the room and grabbing him by the shoulders, forcing him to stand as Jim carefully studies the open wound. “What happened?! And why aren’t you in sickbay?”

“Mr. Kol found it necessary to stun me in order to make the hostage performance more convincing, Captain- although he failed to account for the potential collisions to my cranium as I fell.”, Spock says neutrally, allowing Jim to continue to move his head to the side. “I assure you, sir, there is no significant or lasting damage- as soon as Dr. McCoy is available, I will go see him. Dr. M’Benga and much of his medical team are currently occupied with their patient for now, as she is much more of a priority…”

“The woman you had beamed up, Kirk.”, Meeriana says stiffly, marching over with her hands in her pockets, her jaw set. “The one who looks just like… Princess Feronzi. Except all… I dunno… haggard-looking.”

“Ah…”, Jim murmurs, looking over at the young woman, pity on his face. He had not expected her to be in the transporter room when he had Feronzi’s double beamed up. “I expect you have questions…”

“The k’zkah I do, Kirk!”, Meeriana snaps, squaring her shoulders a little. “What happened down there?!”

“Meeriana, you may want to sit down for this… it may… upset you…”

“Oh, quit stalling and tell me!”, she shouts aggressively, before quickly collecting herself, her shoulders deflating slightly as her eyes soften, a sense of desperation within them. “Please…”, she whispers.

He immediately acquiesces.

“I went looking in the bunker, Meeriana- the one you gave me the key to.”, Jim says quietly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the necklace, pressing it gently into Meeriana’s outstretched palm. “That’s where I found her, down there in the dark- she was chained up in the bathroom with tubes in her neck for sustenance. Based on the state I found her in, well…”, Jim glances up at Meeriana, who is staring at him wide-eyed. “… well, I think she’d been down there a long time…”

“But… but…”, Meeriana takes a step back, shaking her head profusely as she continues to scratch at her burnt arms. “… why?! Why was she being kept down there? What would be the purpose of… of Zee… Feronzi … keeping a double of herself?!”

“Meeriana…”, Jim moves forward and clasps her arms, forcing her to stop scratching herself. “… I don’t think there’s any point speculating at this time. Once whoever is in sickbay wakes up, they’ll probably be able to give us the full-story…”

“But you already have a theory, don’t you Kirk?”, Meeriana whispers, looking him dead in the eye as her arms start to shake. “I see it in your face… what do you think happened? Who is she?”

“Meeriana, as I said, there’s no point in speculating. I could very likely be wrong…”

“Kirk, please!”, Meeriana chokes out, a single tear escaping from her one good eye.

Jim sighs deeply, letting go of her arms and rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very exhausted as he’s faced with the distraught woman in front of him.

“It’s only a theory but… Meeriana, when you told me your tale the other night, about how the princess was involved with you and the P.O.V, there was immediately something I found… off, about your story. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I believed you were telling me the truth…”, Jim says, putting his hand up when he sees Meeriana’s slightly offended face. “… but I just couldn’t understand the complete heel turn from the princess in such a short space of time… not that it couldn’t happen, but that I was fairly certain that there had to be more to the story. And I believe, lying in our sickbay right now… is the missing piece of this puzzle. A piece of the puzzle we didn’t even know was missing.”, Jim gives her a grim look as he sees the horrified look of Meeriana’s face, as full realisation seems to dawn.

“Wait…”, Meeriana says shakily, taking a step back, her blue face going slightly green. “What are you… what are you… saying. You… you can’t be suggesting…”

“You said that she started acting completely different, after she was crowned princess regent. Like she’d turned into a completely different person…”

“But… but…”, Meeriana stares ahead of her, but it’s like she’s not seeing either of them now, like she’s stuck in her own version of hell. “… that was… nearly two years ago. You can’t be telling me that… that… she was down there. In the dark. For all that time…”

“I can’t say when exactly the switch happened… but it likely would’ve been around that time. You said that was around the time she stopped contacting you…”

“Stop!”, Meeriana suddenly screeches, grabbing the back of her head and roughly pulling at her hair. “How could they have been switched?! She’s always surrounded by guards, security… she couldn’t just be vanished like that!”

“Like I said, Meeriana, it’s just a theory…”

“And you can’t be telling me…”, Meeriana just keeps going, full pelt, like she hadn’t even heard him. “… that I… talked to her, that night in the gardens, looked her straight in the eye and I… couldn’t tell it wasn’t her. That I… had an opportunity to save her so much sooner, and I was too stupid to see it… and… and… oh, oh…”

Suddenly Meeriana is keeling over, kneeling down on the floor, holding her stomach, her breathing crazed and erratic-sounding. Jim already rushes to her side, but she just shakes her head, pushing him off:

“No, no, no… don’t touch me. Oh gods, I feel sick…”

“Hey, hey…”, Jim whispers soothingly, kneeling down beside her but not touching. “Come on, you had no way of knowing…”

“I should’ve known!”, she snaps, her lip quivering a little as she pushes herself up into a standing position. “I can’t be here… I have to… have to… I need to be alone…”

“Meeriana…”

But before he can say anything else, she’s stormed out the room, the doors swishing closed behind her as the black locks disappear from view. Jim stares after her before glancing over at Spock who is observing the whole proceedings impassively.

“Do you think I should go after her?”, Jim sighs. “I know she said she wanted to be left alone, but I can’t help but worry…”

“It might be best to obey her wishes for now, Captain… at least until she has had some time to fully process the events of today.”, Spock says calmly, walking over to him and brushing his finger against his wrist. “Although I would advise that Dr. McCoy be sent to do a wellness check on her at least an hour from now.”

Jim grimaces slightly at the suggestion.

“Is that such a good idea, Spock? Those two don’t exactly get on…”

“Jim, at this time, a verbal sparring with a stubborn individual such as the good doctor might be exactly what she needs.”, Spock says, his lips twitching ever so slightly, the Vulcan equivalent of a smirk really. “I myself have found it to be an effective form of stress relief on occasion… though please do not tell Dr. McCoy I said so. He would find my admittance of experiencing adverse emotions quite amusing, I'm sure." ”

Jim just chuckles at that, pressing his lips to the cheek and wrinkling his nose when he picks up the slightly coppery smell of blood.

“Yes, well... you’d best go get your head seen to now, mister… captain’s orders.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Chapter Text

“Here we go, Jim, good as new!”, Bones says with a flourish of his hands as he walks through his cabin door, Spock by his side and newly healed. “Unfortunately, can’t do anything about the personality…”

“Thanks, Bones.”, Jim replies, choosing to ignore that jibe for now. “And you scanned his brain for any potential…”

“Goddamn it, Jim, yes!”, Bones groans, flopping down on a nearby couch. “Christ, I just had a mountain of sass from little Miss Blue, don’t go interrogating me now…”

“Well, it’s nice to hear she still has a little spirit left in her, doctor.”, Jim smiles before turning back to a worried frown. “How is she?”

“Freaking out still, but can’t really blame her… took me a while to convince her to take a relaxant, so hopefully she’ll sleep now. Who knows, maybe by the morning, once she’s had time to process…”

“Yeah.”, Jim mutters, sitting down beside Bones, gesturing for Spock to sit down across from them, which he does. “She’s tough, I know that… but in the meantime, she’s going to be carrying a lot of undeserved guilt.”

“Yeah. Poor kid…”

“Gentlemen…”, Spock interrupts them, leaning forward a little. “Should we not be outlining our plans going forward now? We have potentially discovered a grand conspiracy, along with all the other evidence collated today… it is vital that we act fast, before some powerful individuals make moves against us.”

“I’m all for that, Mr. Spock…”, Bones drawls, getting up and helping himself to a small glass from a nearby cabinet. “… but if you don’t mind, my nerves are fried. Let me pour myself a drink before we get started.”

“Doctor, I do not think it advisory…”

“Hey, uh… pour me a whisky too, Bones? With ice, thanks.”, Jim calls over, before turning back to Spock with a sheepish grin.

His only response is a barely perceptible eyebrow raise which only widens Jim’s grin.

Two whiskies and a tea are laid out on the table in front of them, and the three men work together a while, PADDs and jibes passed around at equal frequency until somewhat of a gameplan is made.

“Okay, so we’ll invite Detective Aurora onto the Enterprise to interview our new visitor in sickbay… probably send a member of our own security to get her, someone we know for sure we can trust…”

“I will have the arrangements made, sir.”, Spock says, sipping from his cup primly. “Doctor, you’ve talked to Dr. M’Benga… when do you think she’ll be sufficiently robust to undergo questioning?”

“Joseph figures he can get her vocal cords healed up by midday tomorrow… but she’s going to go through a lot of muscle regrowth treatment, and that will take a lot out of her energy-wise- probably give it a couple of days to be on the safe side.”

Spock frowns, as this is clearly not soon enough for him, but clearly his respect for M’Benga’s medical opinion makes him hold his tongue.

“Regardless, we should bring Detective Aurora onto the Enterprise tomorrow. We have an extensive amount of documentation for her to peruse, that will only strengthen our case against the Vallen government and Starfleet command…”

“Oh, Jesus…”, Bones mutters, holding his head a little. “Can’t believe we’re reporting our own bosses now… makes me feel sick, just thinking about it. Can’t believe you two roped me into this…”

“Doctor, if my memory serves me correct, you volunteered to help us on this endeavour.”, Spock says dryly, raising a severe eyebrow.

“I was emotionally manipulated. That’ll be my defence in court anyway, when all of this goes tits up…”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a good feeling.”, Jim smiles at the two of them, sipping at the last dregs of his whisky, a warm feeling rising in his belly. “After all, if that is the real Princess of Vallen lying in our sickbay, Henson will have lost a hell of an ally already.”

“Do you reckon he know about the swap? Henson, I mean?”, Bones murmurs, gazing ponderingly into his glass. “And Prince Grunig for that matter, her own husband… after all they shared that room together, surely he knows about that underground bunker?”

“Henson… I’m not sure about. Prince Gruning… I feel like he must know. All signs point to it… and I actually have a theory about that.”

“As do I.”, Spock nods over at him whilst setting his empty teacup down delicately. “I will be most curious to see if we have reached the same conclusion.”

“Well… we’re all in agreement that the swap likely happened around time of the coronation, yes? After that night, Feronzi stopped reporting back to the P.O.V or responding to Meeriana’s messages, so it seems fairly likely. And what else happened not long after that? Grunig’s wife, the princess’s cousin, died out at sea. Two months of mourning later, him and the princess are married, happy as can be. A whirlwind romance one might call it, or…”

“… he simply married his own wife again.”, Bones finishes for him, breathing deeply. “That does make sense… as her husband, he would’ve been the one to identify the body, so a drowning death could easily be faked. Does make me wonder what poor soul was actually found…”

“I am reading the report now, doctor… “, Spock announces, his eyes scanning the PADD in front of him. “… and it seems like a servant was also present on the yacht that day and disappeared along with her mistress- only they never found her body.”

“Goddamn!”, Bones exclaims, slamming his glass back on the table. “Cold-blooded these people! Uh… no offence, Spock…”

“I understand the term does not refer to literal biology, doctor. Now, all of this is just speculation on our parts, but there is sufficient evidence here to re-open the investigation. Of course, that would involve us having to work with local law enforcement, which has had accusations of corruptive practices since its inception…”

“Well, based on the evidence you collected from the embassy today, Mr. Spock… Starfleet law enforcement isn’t faring much better.”, Jim says with a pained grimace. “We’ll have to be careful about who we talk to going forward, who we can really trust… Spock, do you think this is something Admiral Una can help with?”

“Undoubtedly, Jim- I can get in contact with her now, if you wish?”, Spock says, inclining his head slightly. “She did request that I update her on events as soon as I am able…”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea, Mr. Spock… but be careful to contact her over a safe line. Who knows who is listening in, gotta be careful…”

“Of course, sir.”, Spock says, raising a slightly offended eyebrow. “I am always careful…”

“That is so not true, it’s not even funny…”, Bones mutters, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. “Well gentlemen, I’m beat. I’ll see you in the morning if I don’t see you sooner… and I really don’t want to see either of you sooner.”

“Goodnight doctor.”, Spock nods over at him as he clears away their glasses, before looking up at Jim. “Captain, I will join you back in here once I have finished communicating with Admiral Una.”

He presses his own fingers to Jim’s and pretends not to notice the retching sounds Bones is making behind them as he leaves the room. Spock exits through the bathroom, leaving Jim alone to stare out at the planet Vallen from his cabin window, glowing softly as violet clouds swirl along its surface.

He remains standing there for a while, enjoying the quiet respite, when suddenly his communicator starts beeping away. He looks down at the caller ID but doesn’t recognise it at all- it certainly isn’t Starfleet affiliated.

Maybe in times like this, that was a good thing.

His first instinct is to just hang up on what is likely just a cold caller, but curiosity gets the better of him and he presses ‘accept’, listening into the receiver, hearing nothing but static.

But then, between the crackling, he starts hearing a voice, and as he keeps listening, it becomes clearer and clearer, until their identity is unmistakeable:

“Captain… Kirk? Kirk… James T. …. Kirk if you are here, please respond…”

“Hi Kol… bad reception on your end, I take it?”

Chapter Text

“Shit! Just let me readjust this… here…”

There’s a clatter then a buzzing sound, and suddenly Kol’s voice is coming through the receiver crystal clear:

“That better?”

“Much better.”, Jim nods. “Where the hell are you? I can send one of my men to get you, they know how to be discrete…”

“Pass, but thanks Kirk.”, Kol replies, his voice a little strained-sounding. “I can handle myself from here on out.”

“Right…”, Jim says slowly, not entirely convinced. “So why are you calling then? Can’t be for the pleasure of my company…”

“You’re damn right it isn’t. I have to go back on the run soon, and I wanted to check in with Meeriana one last time… but she’s not answering my calls. Is she still on the Enterprise?”

“Ah.”, Jim says, putting his hand up to the window. “Yes, she is. My doctor just gave her something to help her sleep, so that’s probably why she isn’t answering… I can wake her up if you like?”

“No, no, just… is she okay? I’ve been scouring the news channels but haven’t seen anything to do with the alliance talks yet.”

“She’s…”, Jim pauses a second, thinking back to her meltdown back in the briefing room just a few hours ago. “… yeah. She’s okay.”

Kol clearly doesn’t miss the strange tone to his voice.

“… why’d you hesitate? What happened?!”

“Kol, she’s fine… physically at least. It’s just been…”, Jim sighs, resting his head against the glass. “… look, are you sure you don’t want me to wake her up? This might be better coming from her. And… it wouldn’t hurt to have a friend to talk to…”

“No, I said don’t wake her!”, Kol snaps. “She doesn’t need to worry about… look, just tell me what happened? You said she wasn’t hurt, physically? The hell does that mean?! Did someone find out she was working with you guys?!”

Suddenly a loud groan comes out of the receiver, like someone was doubling over in pain. Jim stares down at his communicator, frowning:

“Kol, are you okay? You don’t sound great…”

“I’m fine!”

“My offer still stands…”

“I said I’m fine!”, Kol snarls, but his voice is still tight, like he was trying not to cry out again. “Now… just tell me what happened to Meeriana!”

Jim suddenly thinks back to Captain Perkins words earlier that day:

He has always made it very clear he considers his own life relatively unimportant, in the grand scheme of things…

“Look, this is something better discussed in person…”

“I told you, I’m not coming back!”, Kol hisses. “Even if I did think I could get to your ship without being captured, I’m not going to endanger Meeriana like that, bringing all my mess with me… she has enough people after her as is.”

Jim can’t help but give a small smile at that

“You really care about her, don’t you?”

“Oh, shut up.”, Kol growls, but there’s no real fire behind it this time- fatigue could be a factor.

Time to prod the bear a little:

“So were you and her ever…”

“What?!”, Kol exclaims, sounding genuinely taken aback. “No, it’s not… it’s nothing like that!”

Jim grins to himself- he’s made him lose his footing.

Good.

Time for the killing blow…

“Well, that’s probably a good thing… after all, there’s quite an age gap between the two of you, isn’t there?”

There’s silence on the other end on the line, and Jim can’t help but feel the slightest bit smug that he’s cut through that superior façade.

“… I’m afraid I don’t quite understand?”, Kol replies in a manner that would read as convincingly perplexed if Jim didn’t know better.

“I talked to Captain Jeffery Perkins of the USS Darwin today… I believe you two have some history?”

“… who? I know a lot of people.”

“Okay, don’t play dumb.”, Jim says exasperatedly, quickly losing patience now. “I know you told him to keep an eye on me today- he told me everything.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Okay…”, Jim lets out a heavy sigh before putting his mouth back over the receiver. “Perkins did tell me you’re an evasive bastard when you want to be… so you answer some questions I have, and I’ll agree to tell you what’s going on with Meeriana. Deal?”

“… you tell me what’s going on with Meeriana first.”

“Kol, contrary to popular belief, I’m not an idiot.”, Jim says, rolling his eyes. “Now, either you agree to answer my questions- and honestly- or I hang up now. Got it?”

“Kirk, how can I answer your questions when I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“Okay, fine you’ve had your chance.”, he sighs, hovering his finger over the disconnect button. “It’s been nice talking, Kol…”

“Wait, wait!”, he yells out, clearly panicked. “I’ll… answer what you want to know. But you cannot discuss this… with anyone else, understood?”

“Understood.”

“Including your Vulcan sidepiece.”

Jim can’t help but bristle a little at that.

“… fine.”, he lies. “Though I don’t think you should be the one talking about sidepieces… throwing stones in glass houses and all that.”

“… how much did Jeff tell you?”

“Oh, just that you haven’t aged in forty years, you two have had an on-and-off situationship for decades now, oh, and you’ve been using him for Starfleet intel.”, Jim says coolly, tapping his fingers against the glass. “Besides that, not much.”

He can hear Kol groan through the receiver.

“… that blabbermouth… and for your information, until very recently, he never gave me any classified information on Starfleet- it was me passing information on to him…”

“Still, actively collaborating with a known felon…”, Jim chuckles. “… honestly, didn’t think he had it in him. He… also told me about what you did for Tolaz. How your intel protected them from invasion…”

“For all the good it did.”, Kol snorts. “Fallen into the hands of slavers… and will probably get sold to the Vallen government any day now.”

“But still, you brought them a few more decades of peace… that’s not nothing.”

“… true. But it’s also not enough. It’s…”, Kol sighs into the receiver. “It’s never enough. I’ve spent my whole life doing this, helping out as many people I can, working outside the system and its goddamn red tape… but in the grand scheme of things, it’s all worthless. The selfish still thrive, and the innocent suffer. Nothing ever changes, not really. Not in any substantial way.”

“… if that’s what you truly believe, then why do you keep going? Why not just run away, create a new identity, a new life for yourself?”

“Because I….”, Kol takes a sharp breath. “Because I survived Bajor, I survived living off-world,I survived  all those years being on the run... I survived when those far more deserving than I perished. I have to… make it up to them somehow. Especially those who gave their lives so I might live…”

There’s a silence on the other end of the line for a while, and Jim is almost about to ask if he’s still there, when suddenly he pipes up again:

“Hey, since we’re being so open with each other Captain Kirk, you want to know how I escaped Bajor, during the first invasion?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a reply.

“When I was a child, a Cardassian military troop broke into our orphanage, and took about twenty of us- we were taken because we were young, malleable were their exact words… we were to be re-educated and made slaves in Cardassian homes. Except me. No, I was taken aside by one of the generals because he found me… pretty. I believe he had another purpose for me in mind.” Jim can’t see it, but he can almost imagine the bitter smile on Kol’s face. “I gutted the bastard like a pig before he could try anything… even back then I always kept a switchblade hidden on me. Only problem was… that as soon as someone found me in there, with him less than alive, I knew I’d be executed. Luckily, it was a Bajoran slave who found me… well, maybe more unluckily for him. He managed to sneak me into the transporter room, and I watched them blast a hole in his head, just as I was de-materialising away…” He gives a heavy sigh. “That shit… it stays with you, you know?”

“… yes. It does.”, Jim says softly, his mind unable to repress visions of his own similar experiences back on Tarsus IV. “For what it’s worth… I do respect the work you do. Hell, in another life I might’ve been doing something similar.”

“… you would’ve got yourself killed two weeks in.”

“Probably.”, Jim laughs. “I guess some of us thrive better in a world of rules and regulations... it would probably suffocate you.”

“Yes…”, Kol admits, a strange tone to his voice. “You know, that couple of years pretending to be a regular student… it almost felt nice, being normal, acting like I had a regular upbringing like everyone else. But… it was always an act, I could never forget the things… the things I lived through, it was always there, under the surface. I don’t think that is something… I could ever keep fully buried.”

“Who said you have to? I don’t know how much you’ve told Perki… Jeff over the years, but I’m willing to bet it’s a hell of a lot more than you’ve told me. And based on my conversation with him today, he accepts all of it…” Jim thinks back to earlier that day on the palace balcony, the sadness in the older man’s eyes. “… and he really misses you.”

It goes quiet on the other end of the line for a moment before Kol responds:

“Yes, well… Jeff was always sentimental.”

Jim can’t help but feel a flare of annoyance spark up in him, but it’s quickly quashed when he hears Kol’s next sentence, his voice tentative and unsure:

“Is he… how is he? Otherwise, I mean?”

Jim thinks on this a moment.

“He’s… well, as part of the new alliance agreement they’re taking his ship away, so that’s been quite a blow…”

“What?!”, Kol exclaims, sounding utterly horrified. “The Darwin?! That’s basically his child! Why would they… oh hell, it’s revenge for Tolaz isn’t it?!”

“That seems to be the most likely explanation, yes.”

“Shit, I should never have got him involved…”

“He didn’t have to say yes, Kol.”

“Sure, but I knew he wouldn’t say no. He’s not capable of that… bastard never puts himself first…”

“Funny… he said something very similar about you.”

His only response is silence. Sighing, Jim looks out the window, catching a glimpse of a shooting star which quickly flits out of sight before continuing:

“Look, about my questions…”

“Yeah, whatever, shoot.”

“… how old are you actually? And how come… you don’t age? It can’t be natural, right?”

“My age? … you know, I’m not certain, but they put my age down as ‘five’ when I was taken to the orphanage. I was living on the streets before that, and I don’t have any memories of parents or anything like that, so… best bet, sixty-four. As for the not-aging thing, well… I actually have our mutual friend Prince Grunig to thank for that.”

“Grunig?”, Jim exclaims. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I have some contacts in several of his companies, including ‘Opulence’, the one specialising in beauty and anti-aging. Well, around thirty years ago, they were experimenting with this serum that would temporarily freeze the aging process, as long as it was continuously applied. It almost got put on the shelves, but then it was found out that several of their test subjects underwent fatal seizures after half a year of use, so it was quickly recalled and the story buried… but my contact still had access to a whole warehouse of the stuff and when it all went under, he sold it to me for a profit, rather than just throwing it into landfill. I’d been already taking the stuff for a year at the time, because, well, my new identity card claimed I was in my mid-twenties and I couldn’t pull that off in my thirties- not everyone ages as gracefully as Jeff, you see. For whatever reason, it didn’t cause seizures in me- and it still hasn’t, after nearly thirty years. I suspect it’s because of my very rare blood type, but I can’t be certain… but whatever reason, it’s been useful to me all these years.”

“Useful? How is it… useful? Why pass for a young adult? What’s the purpose?”

“… can’t an old man have his vanity, Kirk?”

“Sure, but I doubt that’s your reason.”

“… you would be correct.”, Kol admits, chuckling a little. “Well, you see Captain, in my line of work, youthful looks are a real asset- people underestimate you, they find you attractive, they’re willing to let their guard down around you. And it also helps that half my warrants for arrest are for a man in his mid-sixties, rather than some damn twink barely out of school…”

Jim laughs heartily at that.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just… it’s only my parent’s generation I’ve ever heard using that word. Goddamn, you really are old!”

“Watch it, Kirk…”, Kol mutters, but Jim can swear he can hear him smiling a little.

“And… so that’s it? You make yourself look young for the job?”

“… yes. Well that, and I suppose…”

“What?”

“… this job is easier if I pretend… I’m someone I’m not. And it’s difficult to pretend when I look in the mirror and… I see the tired old man staring back at me. The drug keeps me looking young but… my organs age the rate they’re supposed to. Won’t be long until they start failing on me, and the pretending will only get harder- but it’s easier to pretend I’m not tired of it all, when I see my younger self reflected back at me. Before it all got so goddamn… tedious.”

Jim considers this moment, pictures Captain Perkins worried face, the way his skin had greyed when the yeoman had arrived with news of Kol’s arrest…

“Kol, where are you right now? You don’t have to come back to the Enterprise if you don’t want to, but I can send over a medic, have you looked at…”

“Unnecessary, Captain.”

“Kol, I can tell you’re in pain.”

“And I know how to heal my goddamn self, thank you.”

“We can help hide you, get your name cleared…”

“I said I’m fine, Kirk!”, Kol snaps, causing him to let out another pained groan, which he does his best to muffle. “I’ll be… fine. On my own...”

“Kol…”

“You want to help me? Hold up your end of the bargain- what’s wrong with Meeriana? What happened today?”

“Ah. Well…”, Jim looks up at the ceiling, wondering where the hell he even starts. “… Meeriana mentioned a secret bunker located underneath the royal chambers, so I went looking. And down there, I found… a woman who looks like the princess regent.”

“Looks like the princess regent? What the hell do you…”

“She was identical to her, but extremely thin and malnourished, and chained to the wall. And based on the brief conversation I had with her… I believe she might be the real princess regent. For whatever reason, she was imprisoned down there, while an imposter posed as her.”

“Wait, so you’re saying… oh.” For a moment, Kol seems uncharacteristically lost for words. “Oh, shit.”

“Yes, shit. Did uh…. Meeriana ever tell you about the nature of her and the princess’s relationship?”

“She… never went into much detail, but it wasn’t too difficult to read between the lines. Didn’t want to push her on anything she didn’t want to talk about… so, what? Is the princess back on the Enterprise?”

“Yes, she was beamed up a couple of hours ago.”

“And… does Meeriana…?”

“Yes. She knows.”

“Shit.”, Kol mutters, exhaling deeply. “That’s… a lot.”

“Indeed. She’s… already blaming herself for not realising a switch had been made.”

“Ugh, typical… she’s a good kid. Good people always feel guilty about things they shouldn’t be… whereas the worst of us are happy as larry. Look, Kirk, I have to leave soon, before they catch up on my trail, but please look after her for me, will ya? She… deserves so much more than I could ever give her.”

“Of course… before you go, can you send me the name of your contact at ‘Opulence’? I get the feeling the whole Feronzi’s double thing is something to do with Grunig… and we have a trusted detective on our side who could use a lead.”

“Sure, doing it now… now if that’s all Captain Kirk…”

“Wait, one more thing… please try not to die, okay?”

“… that’s usually my goal, Kirk…”

“No, I mean it. After talking to Captain Perkins today, well… he really cares about you, you know? Stay alive, for his sake, if nothing else.”

“… he’s been doing fine without me these last few years. Believe me, he’ll live.”, Kol says shortly, not bothering to disguise his obvious annoyance.

“I’m not so certain about that… he told me he loved you today. Present tense. And he’s stood by you all these years… you really don’t think he’d be destroyed if something happened to you?”

“This is pointless to talk about…”

“And are you really telling me you don’t care about him too?”

There’s a long pause, then Kol speaks again, his voice ice-cold and dripping with venom:

“I think this conversation is over, Kirk.”

With that, he abruptly hangs up, leaving Jim with nothing but the dial tone for company. He looks down at his communicator a moment and sighs.

Well. That was that then.

Just then, Spock walks back into the room and is immediately alerted to Jim’s agitated demeanour and stiff posture.

“Jim?”, he says, approaching him by the window, the starlight illuminating his pale face. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, but… no. Sit down on the bed here, and I’ll tell you about it…”

Chapter Text

As Jim wakes up, he yawns, stretching out his limbs only to find the other side of the bed unoccupied. However, he paid it no mind- Spock often liked to wake up early to get a head-start on reports, slipping out of their bed undetected. Jim only hoped that he got enough sleep, with the way he himself had been tossing and turning all night, his nightmares returning with a vengeance- now also starring a dark, desolate basement where no one could hear you scream, alongside the regular programming.

Hopefully, Spock wouldn’t go behind his back to Bones about his troubles- he really didn’t want to go back on those sleeping pills.

He goes into their shared bathroom, does his teeth and showers, only to frown to himself when he’s unable to find his electric razor.

Spock must’ve borrowed it without asking again- typical.

He taps in the captain’s override code, and strides purposely into Spock’s room wearing only a towel hung low on his hips. Immediately, he sees Spock sat at his desk, his fingers steepled as he’s seemingly engrossed in whatever is on his computer screen. However, he becomes quickly aware of Jim’s presence, his head snapping up and eyes widening slightly when he sees his state of undress.

“Captain…”, Spock mouths quietly, looking uncharacteristically panicked as his eyes swivel back and forth urgently between him and the screen. “Would you… please come back at a later time? I am… currently occupied with…”

“Relax, Spock, I’m not here to drag you away from your work…”, Jim rolls his eyes, approaching his side and leaning down to kiss him, which only seems to agitate Spock further. Strange. “… just looking to get my razor back. You know, just because we share a bed, doesn’t mean you get to borrow my stuff without asking…”

“Captain Kirk.”, a dry, sardonic voice emerges from the screen, startling Jim out of his sleepy demeanour. “Greetings… it seems our son failed to update us on recent events of a more… personal nature…”

Oh no.

Please no…

There on the screen, was a severe-looking, greying Vulcan man and an older, attractive human woman with elaborate curls, both of whom were very familiar to him by this point. The Vulcan regards him impassively, with a barely raised eyebrow, and the woman seems both shocked and slightly amused by the proceedings, the corners of her mouth turning upwards and her cheeks flushed pink.

Jim suddenly remembers he’s only wearing a towel and all that they can see of him is his torso currently. He quickly ducks down so that his only his head and shoulders are in frame alongside Spock, who looks like he wants to throw himself out of the airlock right now. Grimacing, he raises his hand and performs a shaky Vulcan salute, and tries to speak with as much dignity as he can muster:

“Greetings Ambassador Sarek… live long and prosper. Hi Amanda.”

“Hello, Jim!”, Amanda smiles at him warmly. “It has been too long since we’ve last spoke…”

“I was not aware you had spoken to the captain since our last visit, wife.”, Sarek monotones, turning towards her with a slightly suspicious look.

“Oh, I just ask him for little updates sometimes- Spock always leaves out the interesting details…”

“Based on the evidence presented, it seems they are both rather selective on providing details.”, Sarek says stiffly, his attention turning back towards his son. “Can I assume this…”, he gestures vaguely, clearly referring to the shirtless human male on his screen. “… is the reason you have refused our offers of helping you procure a new bondmate?”

“That… would be correct.”, Spock says quietly, already reverting back to the more docile persona he always reverted to around father.

“I see… well, I suppose you two plan to undergo the bonding ceremony once your mission has reached its it's completion, yes? Have you begun making arrangements? T’Pau must be informed well in advance… your actions at your last bonding ceremony brought great shame to our family, we cannot any more disrespect…”

“Oh, hush husband…”, Amanda chides Sarek, rolling her eyes. “T’Pring was never a truly suitable match for Spock, and you know it- they likely would’ve had the bond dissolved not long after anyway…”

“But to make such a spectacle of it…”

“T’Pring did that- let the blame lie with her. I’m just happy Spock has now found his perfect match… I had a feeling about them from the beginning, but I didn’t want to jinx it by saying anything- oh, Jim!”, Amanda exclaims, clapping her hands together. “Will you two just be having a Vulcan ceremony, or will you be having a Terran one as well? Because I would love to attend both! It’s been so long since I’ve been to a Terran wedding, and Sarek never has…”

“… I fail to see the relevance, wife…”

“Cultural enrichment! An area you are appallingly lacking in for an ambassador, dear husband.”, Amanda replies, waving her hand dismissively at him. “So, tell me Jim… one wedding or two?”

Jim looks desperately over at Spock for help, but he just stares forward, stone-faced, clearly struggling to keep his emotions under control.

“We, uh… well, I…”, Jim babbles, his mind going completely blank with panic. “We have not really discussed… when exactly…”

“You have made no plan?”, Sarek says, his tone sightly disapproving. “Very well then, I will be the one to inform T’Pau and ensure a date can be arranged that suits both your schedules.”

“That’s not… that really isn’t… necessary…”, Jim stutters, breaking out into a sweat now.

“Oh, but it is- T’Pau may still hold a grudge against you for faking your death during the kal-if-fee, and it will take some negation on my part to ensure that the ceremony will be allowed to take place on Vulcan. We are lucky she chose not to charge your captain with treason against the Vulcan people…”

“Sarek…”, Amanda admonishes, giving him a warning glance before turning back to the two of them, beaming. “Oh Spock, I can’t tell you how much joy this brings me! I thought you’d been in better spirits lately, and now I know the reason why!”

“Indeed… mother.”, Spock says, finally saying something as he glances over at Jim briefly, his eyes softening a little. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind… me and the Captain have duties to attend to…”

“Of course, of course sweetheart!”, Amanda says, bobbing her head excitedly. “But do get in touch again, soon! I want to hear all about how you two got together, if you’ve had any more thoughts about the ceremony…”

“… of course.”, Spock murmurs, his cheekbones tinged green as he raises his hand in a Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper mother… father.”

His parents return the farewell gesture, and as the screen turns blank, Jim finally breathes a sigh of relief, before turning to Spock, exasperated:

“You might’ve told me you were talking to your parents!”

“I attempted to, Jim…”, Spock says cooly, not quite able to meet his eye right now. “… but perhaps I could have expressed that fact with greater urgency…”

“No kidding…”, Jim mutters, before chuckling to himself as the ridiculousness of the situation suddenly hits him. “So… your father is organising our wedding, huh? Do you think he’ll pick out the flowers?”

“It is not a wedding- it is a bonding ceremony.”

“I’m a little worried, you know…”, Jim carries on, ignoring him. “Because I bet Sarek was a real bridezilla at his own wedding- who knows how controlling he’ll be about his son’s.”

“… it is a bonding ceremony, not a…”

“… and wow, Spock, you didn’t even put a ring on it!”, he grins, waggling his fingers at him in a way he knows the Vulcan must find infuriating. “What will Amanda say…? You’d better plan on getting me a big diamond now, mister!”

Spock stares on, completely unamused, which only makes Jim laugh harder:

“Oh come on, Spock… they were bound to find out someday!”

“When we were both ready, Captain…”, Spock mutters, shaking his head at him. “If you had not insisted that I speak to my parents once a month, this never would have happened- me and my father were perfectly satisfied with only contacting each other only when strictly necessary.”

“Yeah, but it makes Amanda happy.”, Jim grins, elbowing him in the ribs. “And what makes your mother happy, makes you happy, right? Right?”

“… please go get dressed, Captain.”

“Oh, I plan to- but first, give me back my razor, you sticky-fingered Vulcan.”

Chapter Text

Feronzi wakes up in sickbay screaming, and it takes the combined soothing efforts of M’Benga and Chapel to somewhat calm her.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart…”, Chapel says, patting her on the back as her patient continues to hyperventilate, her eyes wildly scanning the white room she finds herself in. “It’s alright, you’re safe now… you don’t have to be scared.”

“Where… where…”, Feronzi rasps out, her voice sounding a lot less painful today. She squints up at the lights above her, shielding her face a little. “… it’s so… bright here…”

“Would you like me to turn down the lights…?”

“NO!”, she yells hoarsely, almost immediately apologetic for her outburst. “I mean… no, thank you.” Her eyes widen slightly when she takes in both Chapel and M’Benga properly, letting out a little surprised exhale: “Wait, you’re… aliens!”

“Indeed we are, miss.”, Jim calls over from the doorway, grinning, with Bones following soon after. “Though please, don’t worry- we come in peace.”

Feronzi stares at him, a look of recognition flickering in her eyes.

“I remember you…”, she breathes, her eyes growing even wider in her skull-like face. “You were… you were down there. You… said you would get me out…”

“And that we did!”, Bones drawls, stepping out from behind Jim. “And not a moment too soon, by the looks of ya…”

There’s another flicker of recognition in Feronzi’s eyes and her features are rearranged into that of a scowl, a deep line between her brows.

“I remember you too…”, she says darkly, putting both her hands up and arranging her fingers into what Jim could only assume was an extremely rude gesture on Vallen. “… and I’m ambidextrous by the way, asshole. Since you asked…”

“Oh, really? That’s very rare amongst your species from what I hear…”

“Bones.”, Jim mutters, giving him a warning look before turning back to Feronzi. “So, hello again- how are you?”

“… better than I’ve been in a long time. Everything isn’t… hurting, for once. Actually…”, she starts touching her legs and running her hands up and down the bedsheets, frowning to herself: “… I’m not dead, am I?”

“You think the afterlife looks a sickbay, filled with humans?”, Bones says derisively, crossing his arms.

“Well I don’t know, do I?!”, she exclaims, scowling at him. “I had… so many weird… dreams… hallucinations… down there. Didn’t know what was… wait, so where exactly am I?!”

“You are on a Starfleet vessel, representing the United Federation of Planets- the USS Enterprise, the be precise. And I am her captain, James T. Kirk. And all these lovely people…”, he says, sweeping his arm across the room, indicating the Chapel, M’Benga, Bones, and Spock. “… are my crew. A small sample of them, anyway.”

“The Federation…”, she whispers, her brows furrowing together like she’s trying to recall some faint memory. “But that’s… Vallen is thousands of light years away from that region of space. Why would you…”

“Our people are looking to form an alliance with the Vallen government… proceedings are underway this week, in fact. That is why… I was down there yesterday.”, Jim explains grimly.

“An alliance? With the Federation? But why… how…?”

“All will be exclaimed in good time, miss.”, Jim sighs, sitting himself down beside her. “Apologies, but I’m guessing you were down in that bunker a good while… you’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yeah. Sounds like it.”, Feronzi mutters, rubbing her forehead a little. “How… how long was I…”

“We were hoping you could tell us, actually… though, perhaps, you could start by telling us who you are?”

“… Princess Feronzi, of Vallen. Though, I suppose, princess regent…”, her voice trails off a little, like something had just occurred to her. “… wait, who is the leader of Vallen right now? The… person, woman, thing that would come into the bunker every so often, the one that looked like me… was she real? Or a hallucination? Because if she is real, she may have… taken my place…”

“Oh, she’s real.”, Jim nods sadly, putting a hand on the side of her bed. “Talked to her myself… many times. She was upstairs, hosting the alliance talks while me and Bones were downstairs with you.”

“… oh.”, Feronzi whispers, leaning forward a little as a violent shudder runs through her body. “… is she… has she been arrested?”

“About that… we have a detective on board the ship right now, ready to take your statement so we can get all our evidence in place. Do you have the energy to answer her questions right now, or shall we come back later…?”

“Well, I…”, her sentence trails off as suddenly her face pales a little, her pupils widening: “Wait… you beamed me up here. And I saw… saw… Miri! Was that real?”

“… yes.”, Jim admits as he looks upon her expectant face, looking the most alive he’s seen her so far.

“So is she here? On the ship still?”

“Well, yes. She can come by to see you later, if you wish…”

“I need to see her! Now!”

“As I said, later we can…”

“No. Now! I won’t answer any more questions until I see her for myself! For all I know, you could… be keeping both of us prisoner here!”

“Oh, for the love of…”, Bones mutters behind them, but he is ignored.

“Okay, Fer… I mean, your highness.”, Jim says slowly, standing up a little. “I’ll go get her… then we’ll talk about taking your statement again?”

“Yes! Fine!”, Feronzi groans, leaning back in her bed a little as M’Benga adjusts one of the pain-relieving attachments. “Anything you want, just… I need to see her. I…” She frowns a little. “… she looked different, I think… like, all scarred.”

“Yes. That’s right.”, Jim says softly.

“Does that… have anything to do with the people who took me? Did they do that?”

“… we believe it might do, yes, your highness.”

She pulls a face.

“Don’t call me that… just ‘Zee’ will do. It’s a bit of a mouthful, otherwise.”

“Okay then… Zee.”, Jim says, smiling at her. “I’ll go get Meeriana then… and you two can have a much needed catch-up.”

“Thank you, Captain Kirk.”, she says, giving him a smile back, one that looked too large for her thin, gaunt face.

“Call me Jim!”, he smirks. “Less of a mouthful!”

“Very well… thank you, Jim!”

“My pleasure, madam.”, he says, giving her a mini salute as he walks out the door, catching only the tail-end of her and Dr. McCoy’s exchange:

“… they call me Bones for short…”

“… well, that’s stupid.”

Chapter Text

“Meeriana? Kirk here.”, Jim says, pressing his hand against the intercom next to the assigned guest quarters. “You up?”

There’s no response, so Jim tries again:

“Meeriana, I can see from the light the room is occupied- please respond.”

Still no answer.

He sighs, and tries once more:

“Look, if you don’t answer me, I’m gonna have to assume you’ve passed out or something, and I can justify using my captain override code on this door…”

There’s a short pause, and suddenly the intercom crackles into life, a subdued, tired-sounding voice emerging from it:

“It’s open…”

Triumphant, Jim makes his way inside, only to be greeted with a room submerged in semi-darkness, Meeriana sat on the side of her bed, looking very much like she hasn’t slept based on the dark circles underneath her eyes. Cautiously, he approaches, standing across from her, his back against a nearby desk- at this distance he can tell she’s clearly been crying.

“Hey… you okay? You look a little rough…”

“Don’t I always?”, she snorts, gesturing at her scarred face. “But yeah, I’m fine… just having some alone time.”

“Right…”, Jim says uncertainly, repressing the urge to ask if she’s eaten yet. “Well… hopefully you’ve had enough solitary time for now… Feronzi’s awake. And she’s been asking for you.”

“… has she?”, Meeriana murmurs, absentmindedly scratching her arm, her tone strangely neutral, like Jim had simply told her about today’s breakfast menu. “Right, well… could you tell her I’m not available for now? That I’m… not feeling well.”

Jim stares at her a second, a little taken aback.

“Not… feeling well? You want me to get one of our doctors to look at you?”

“No.”, she says firmly, shaking her head at him. “I’m just… I just didn’t sleep that well last night. And I think seeing me… might not be the best thing for her right now.”

“Not the best… what do you mean?”

“Well, I can’t exactly wander into the room looking like this…”, she says, gesturing at her face once again. “… and not expect her to ask questions about what happened. And… she doesn’t need to hear about all that. Not yet anyway. She’s been through enough…”

“Meeriana…”, Jim sighs, kneeling down so she’s forced to be eye-level with him. “… she’ll be hearing about everything that happened soon anyway. We have a detective here on the Enterprise, ready to take her statement, and she refuses to do so until she’s talked to you- she insisted on that point quite firmly.”

“Yes, well…”, Meeriana mutters, continuing to scratch her arms, her eyes screwed shut now. “… she wouldn’t want to talk to me… if she knew the full story.”

“ ‘Full story’? Meeriana, what…”, Jim stops, sighing deeply. “Please tell me you’re not still blaming yourself for her being taken…”

“Well, why shouldn’t I?”, she snaps, baring her teeth a little. “I was the one that got her involved with the P.O.V, I was the one who looked that imposter straight in the eye and couldn’t even tell it wasn’t her…”

“Meeriana… from what you told me, she volunteered herself. And there was no way you or anyone would’ve been able to tell- what happened was insane…”

“Just… don’t!”, Meeriana says, putting her hand up, interrupting him mid-flow. “I am grateful to you Kirk, for everything, believe me… but please. Just leave me for now…”

Jim remains where he is kneeling for a little while, regarding her silently, before nodding and standing himself up:

“Okay, I’ll leave… but I meant it when I said she refuses to take a statement until she’s talked to you. It’s vital that the people who kidnapped her and eliminated your entire rebel group answer for their crimes… and the more time we waste, the more time we give them to work on their own retaliation. And keep in mind, they have a lot of people in Starfleet on their side right now.”

“Just convince her it’s important then… you’re good at that.”

“Usually… but based on my brief conversation with her, she seems like a stubborn individual. Of course, you know her better than me… is she the kind of woman who has her mind changed easily?”

Meeriana gives him a heavy stare and does not respond for a good minute. Finally, she lets out a deep sigh, and stands herself up, wiping her sweaty palms on her leather trousers as she does so:

“Fine, I’ll go see her… but just to convince her to talk to this detective. After that, I’m going back to my quarters.”

****************************************************************************************

As the door swishes open to the sickbay, they see M’Benga leaning over Zee’s bed, showing her some kind of data to do with her vitals. She has a slightly glazed look on her face, which quickly turns into one of unhinged joy and excitement when she sees who her latest visitors are:

“Miri!”, she shouts, her voice catching a little as she pushes herself up in bed. “You’re here! You’re… oh gods, I can’t believe it! I…”

At this point, Zee attempts to swing her legs over the side of the bed, quickly thwarted by M’Benga who gives her a stern but slightly amused look:

“May I remind you miss, of my recommendation that you try not to stand until your muscles have fully grown back?”

“Yes, yes, fine!”, she says, waving her hand at him, her eyes not leaving Miri’s face. “Miri, please, come here! Let me look at you, I…”

Her voice trails off when she sees the way Meeriana is looking at her, especially now the majority of her body is no longer hidden under bedsheets- she’s now a much a healthier colour compared to when she stepped off the transporter path, closer to blue than grey, and all her external injuries have now been healed, including the large burn McCoy had made on her neck. Nurse Chapel had even taken the time to brush and cut the knots out of her hair, and it has been washed with medicinal shampoo, so that it is no longer greasy and plastered to her face in strands.

But she’s still dangerously thin, her skinny legs and arms peeking out from her hospital gown, completely enveloping her despite it being the smallest size they have available. Her cheeks are sunken in, and the colour has yet to return to her cheeks or lips, adding to the emaciated look. And even if she had look completely fine otherwise, the added lines on her face, the hollowness to her eyes told tales of indescribable horrors the way simple words never could.

And despite all that, she smiles at Meeriana, stretching out one of her hands, showing off her bony fingers:

“Yeah, uh… I guess I look kind of scary right now, right? I mean, no one’s let me look at a mirror yet, but I can only assume…”, she pauses, looking at Meerina properly a moment, casting her eyes over her burns, the perturbed look on her face. “Did they… tell you where I was? What happened to me?”

“Yes.”, Meeriana says gruffly, looking somewhere above Zee’s head, not quite meeting her eyes. “They told me… everything they know, anyway. That you were taken, replaced…”

“Right.”, Zee nods, inclining her head a little. “That’s about all I know too… hey, Miri, would you mind coming over here? I want…”

“Kirk told me that a detective’s here, to get your side of the story- you should talk to them. Soon as possible.”, Meeriana says shortly, still refusing to meet her eye.

“Well… yes, I will. But I thought that we should…”

“You should talk to them first- make sure they get it fresh, that your facts don’t get confused by the rest of us.”, Meeriana straightens her back, and glances back towards the sickbay exit: “Anyway, I’m not feeling great, so I’ll… see you later.”

“Miri, wait!”, Zee says desperately, springing from the bed and managing to avoid M’Benga’s clutches this time.

Unfortunately, she immediately stumbles, weak as she is, and she falls to the floor hard, her limbs splayed out like a dead bird. Both Meeriana and M’Benga are immediately at her side and guide her shakily back into bed, all stoicism gone from Meeriana’s face, replaced with pure panic.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!”, Zee mutters, as M’Benga runs is tricorder over her, checking for new bruises, her attention still solely on Meeriana, pure desperation in her face. “Miri, please, I know I’m kind of hard to look at right now…”

Meeriana stares at her, completely horrified.

“That’s not it at all!”

“Well, whatever reason you’re acting so weird right now, could you… please, get over it for now? Please? For me?”, she whispers, wincing slightly as M’Benga readjusts one of her attachments again. “I just want to talk to you… alone, ideally.”, she says, casting a meaningful eye at the full room consisted of Dr. M’Benga, Bones, Spock, Jim and themselves.

Meeriana hesitates a second, glancing over at Jim who gives her a stern nod.

She sighs.

“Okay… we can talk. If you… promise to talk to the detective straight after.”

Zee stares at her, clear hurt in her eyes as she chews on her bottom lip, but she nods acceptedly.

“Yes, I promise. Just… Jim?”, she looks over at him, standing in the corner next to Spock. “Could you… clear the room please?”

“Of course, Zee.”, Jim smiles at her, not missing the way Meeriana’s eyes flicker a little when she hears the familiar nickname fall from his lips. “Just let us know when you’re done…”

“And press this alarm if there’s any emergency.”, M’Benga says primly, pointing over at a button next to Zee’s bed.

“Right. Sure.”, Meeriana murmurs, rubbing the back of her neck, choosing to look at a corner of the room, rather than Zee’s confused, hurt face.

As everyone files out of the room, Jim can’t help but glance back before the doors close behind him, and sees Zee tentatively place her own skeletal hand on Meerina’s, which is clutching the side of the bed railing.

The last thing he sees before the doors swish closed on him, is Meeriana abruptly pulling her hand back. And the devastated yet accepting look on Zee’s face as she does so.

Chapter Text

Detective Aurora greets them with a smile as she clambers her way out of the shuttle pod, the general stress of the last few days doing nothing to dampen her relentless perkiness or the slight skip to her step.

“Captain Kirk! Commander Spock! Lovely to see you again… though I do wish the circumstances were better.”

“Indeed, detective…”, Spock says, holding his hands behind his back. “Have you had time to look over the encoded message we went over? Along with all the attached documents?”

“I have, commander… let me tell you, it made for some entertaining reading on the way here! And to think, you lot may’ve uncovered a kidnapping of a monarch… well, these kinds of cases don’t fall onto your laps every day! It’s usually just disputes over unpaid bills and gang wars… tell me, how is she? Do you think she’ll be ready to talk soon?”

“She was talking just fine five minutes ago… but she’s catching up with an old friend right now.”, Jim says, grimacing slightly when he remembers the icy tension between the two women in sickbay. “She’ll let us know as soon as she’s ready.”

“Good, good… though if you wouldn’t mind, captain, do make it clear that time is of the urgency. I’ve been able to narrow my inner circle back at Starfleet law enforcement to a few trusted individuals but keeping this contained will become more difficult the longer we keep her here… for all we know, they might already have figured out she is no longer in that bunker. They’d only have to do a bit of light detective work to figure out who’s responsible…”

“Yes, I don’t suppose they’d believe she teleported out of there of her own accord.”, Jim says dryly, opening the door to the corridor for them and walking out. “Tell me, how is Dr. T’Vina faring, do you know?”

“Oh, they’re still trying to get a confession out of her, but she’s having none of it- she’s giving them hell.” She pauses a second, considering. “Well, actually, she’s giving them nothing… but I suppose that’s the Vulcan equivalent of ‘giving them hell’. She’s a tough broad, she’ll hold out until this goes to trial… but I hope it won’t come to that in the end.”

“I’ll make sure if it.”, Jim says firmly, guiding her towards her assigned guest quarters. As they enter the room, she puts her bag down on the bed with a relieved sigh and replicates a glass water for herself. “And tell me… have you had any more problems with threats, anonymous messages? Or your family for that matter?”

“Thankfully not, captain…”, she sighs, placing her glass down on a nearby dresser, suddenly looking very tired. “… I’ve been careful. But I think my husband can tell something is up… I was supposed to go back to Earth this week to see him and the kids, but I’ve had to tell him a case has come up in this quadrant. He didn’t ask too many questions about it, he knows a lot of the nature of my work is confidential, but he could definitely tell I was more stressed than usual.” She shakes her head, and goes to replicate some more water, a small smile on her face: “Let me tell you, Captain Kirk, after all this is over… I’ll sleep a little easier.”

“I know exactly how you feel.”, Jim smiles sympathetically back at her, before flipping over his communicator. “Shall we see if her royal highness is ready to be interviewed yet?”

****************************************************************************************

The mood is still strange when the three of them walk back into sickbay, with Meeriana stood next to the floor length window, looking down onto her home planet below. Meanwhile, Zee is looking despondently down at her lap, bedsheets clenched tightly between her fists, white bone visible through blue, translucent skin.

Whatever had been discussed, it had done little to mediate their issues- and Jim very much suspected that most of the blame for that lay on Meeriana’s side. He tries to catch her eye, but she continues to steadfastly stare out the window, not even acknowledging their presence.

He feels a twinge of irritation but reminds himself that this is not the time for reprimands- they have a job to do. He turns his attention to the quiet young woman in bed, still staring sullenly down at her lap.

“Hey, Zee…”, he says softly, walking cautiously over to her. “I know you said you were ready to talk now, but if you need to rest still…”

“No. I’m ready.”, she says flatly, taking a deep, steadying breath before looking up to meet his eye: “Get this over with, right? Sooner the better…”

“If you’re certain… this here is Detective Aurora from Starfleet law enforcement. Detective, this is Princess Feronzi, of the planet Vallen…”

“… though she prefers to be called ‘Zee’, detective.”, Zee says, giving a weak smile at Auora who returns a dazzling one.

“Pleasure is all mine, your high… uh… Zee, I mean. Now…”, Auora whips out her PADD and starts tapping away at it, suddenly the very picture of professionalism. “Do you consent to our conversation being recorded, or would you rather someone took minutes?”

“Recorded is fine.”

“Excellent, noted down for the record… now, would you like to talk together in private, or do you want someone in here with you?”

“I’d, uh…. like everyone in here to stay, actually.”, Zee answers, her gaze turning back towards Meeriana, who is shifting uncomfortably as she continues to look out the window. “If that’s alright…”

“Of course! As long as you’re comfortable…”

“Actually…”, Meeriana interrupts the detective, starting to turn on her heel. “I should probably be…”

“Wait!”, Zee calls out as Meeriana is about to put her hand to the door’s release button. “Miri, just wait…”

Just then, the door opens up without Meeriana’s input, and there at the doorway is Bones, who raises an amused eyebrow at her.

“Ah, you’re back, are you? Finally considering my offer to get that eye replaced?”

She just glares in response and makes to move around him, but freezes when she hears Zee call out again, her tone pleading:

“Miri, please just… stay, please? Just for now, I…”, Zee sighs, eyes wandering down to her lap again as she wrings her hands a little, her voice barely audible in the silent room: “… I need you. Please. For me. If we… ever meant anything… please…”

She has her back to the rest of the room, so Jim can’t see her expression, but he does see the way her shoulders visibly deflate and as she does turn around, she seems just a little less closed off than she’d been before.  It was subtle, but it was there, and he couldn’t help but notice the way Zee’s face brightens ever so slightly as Meeriana walks hesitatingly over and sits herself down in a nearby armchair, her posture rigid and uncertain. She still avoids looking anyone directly in the eye, including Zee, but at least she’s no longer acting the part of a ghost on the sidelines.

Bones watches the whole proceedings with some curiosity, but chooses not to comment for now.

“Hey, uh… detective?”, he says, getting Aurora’s attention. “I know you need to talk to our patient, but she does require supervision by a medical professional under stressful situations for now, so…”

“Where’s M’Benga?”, Zee frowns at him, momentarily distracted.

“He needs to eat and rest, like everyone else, missy… so, you have me for now.”

“Fine.”, she mutters, folding her arms. “I guess you can stay…”

“Oh, I should be so honoured…”, Bones says mockingly, rolling his eyes as he makes his way over to his desk. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be right here, quiet as a barn mouse…”

Zee gives a little humph, looking very much like she doesn’t believe that, and Jim can’t help but be silently amused by his CMO’s talent at raising people’s hackles. At least annoyance was a great momentary distraction from distress and woe at least.

“Well, alright then…”, Aurora says, coughing a little. “If we’re all happen then, let’s get started…”

She goes through the basics with Zee at first, such as name, age, date of birth and address, but soon enough, she is asked to take them through the sequence of events, starting with the night she was taken:

“Do you remember the date, Zee?”

“Yes.”, she whispers, closing her eyes a little as if trying to recall a specific scene. “… because it was the night I… was sworn in as leader. Which would’ve been…”

“Six-hundred and ninety-two full planetary rotations, rounding up.”, Spock finishes for her, tilting his head a little as he glances around at the humans in the room. “Or six-hundred and eight-five Earth days, for reference…”

“Shit…”, Zee breathes, her eyes widening. “I knew it was a long time I was down there, but… nearly two years…”

“Zee…”, Aurora says softly, putting a comforting hand on her knee. “This may be hard for you, but I need you to take me through the events of what happened, step by step… think back now. Every detail is important.”

Zee nods profusely, screwing her eyes shut as she seems to cast her mind back to that night:

“… it was… there was a celebratory after party. I’d spent hours and hours being approached by people, getting trapped in conversations, surrounded on all sides and the room was so hot that night…”

“Where? Be specific, please.”

“In the… dining room. But it was… after dinner, it happened. I asked my guards to allow me some time on the balcony to myself, so I could cool down and get some air…”

“Which balcony?”

“The one that hangs over the West gardens, with the marble statue of my great, great aunt.”

“What time?”

Zee scrunches her eyebrows together, clearly struggling to recall, but eventually she remembers a nearby clocktower tolling midnight somewhere in the distance.

“It felt like I was only there for a few minutes by myself… before I was interrupted again. I didn’t even hear her approach, her tread was so light…”

“And who would that be, Zee?”

“My cousin, Zavvi…”, Zee whispers, twisting her sheet between her fingers. “I remember being annoyed, at the time, because I’d asked not to be interrupted, but she said she was there on behalf of my mother, the queen, that she urgently needed to see me… and so I followed her. And… and as soon as I passed the curtain, I felt…”, she puts her hand to the side of her neck, swallowing loudly. “… I felt something sharp, here. Like a needle or something, and when I woke up, I… it was dark, I couldn’t see where I was at first. But eventually my eyes adjusted, and I could make out I was in the bunker, in the bathroom and I… I tried to get the manacles off, I tried tearing the whole thing off the wall, but I only electrocuted myself, and when I came to again, I was so… I was so cold, I…”

“Hey, hey…”, Aurora says reassuringly, stroking her back a little as Zee continues to shudder, choking on her words. “You’re doing great, Zee… take all the time you need.”

“I’m fine.”, she mutters, grasping at her own arms, willing herself to stop shivering. “Let’s just… get this over with. So I was down there, for gods knows how long… I kept screaming for help, but either no one heard or they knew and didn’t care. I was always… hungry, but never starving, and my joints were killing me, being laid out on the hard floor like that, manacled like that. I kept waiting… for someone, anyone to come, to find out the reason someone would do this to me, but no one came for a very long time. I’m afraid I… have a hard time estimating the time elapsed, since I had no way of telling what time of day it was. I tried counting my sleeps, but even that proved futile as I got weaker and weaker and I slept more…”

“It’s alright, Zee… but someone did turn up eventually?”

“Yes.”, she says quietly, continuing to clasp at the bedsheets. “I… when she turned up, I thought it was another dream, or a hallucination. But it had to be real. By that point, I was forgetting how to dream in colour…”

“She?”, Aurora says, leaning forward, fully alert. “Who was it, Zee?”

“I… I can’t be certain.”, Zee admits, turning her face away. “She… looked like me, you see. Identical in every way, you can see why I thought I was going mad…”

“You didn’t have any clue to her identity?”

“As I said, I can’t be sure… but I had a lot of time to think back down in that bunker, and I came to the conclusion that… it must be Zavvi, wearing my face somehow.”

“Circumstantial evidence would certainly suggest that.”, Aurora murmurs, scribbling something down on her PADD before looking back up at Zee: “Do you have anything that might prove this?”

“No, but…”, Zee shakes her head. “… but I know it must’ve been her. She had that stupid little smile on her face…”

Jim can’t help but inwardly shiver a little as he recalls that very smile.

“… so anyway, she entered the room, holding a light in one hand, blinding me, and a phaser in the other. And… before I could even say anything, there was a flash of light, and I was dead to the world for who knows how long. When I woke up, my shoulder was hurting, like someone had jabbed it with a needle again, and there was a strange smell…”

“What kind of smell?”

“Like… chemicals. The sort you’d find in a hospital…”

“That was probably your evil doppelbanger changing your nutritional and medical sachets… typical ones tend to last a comatose patient a month or so. There’s been less research done on live humanoids…”, Bones trails off when he sees Aurora regarding him cooly. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“In a literal sense, yes doctor, but I do appreciate the medical context… but could you please leave your speculations until the end of the interview? This all needs to be Zee’s own words.”

“Right, course…”, Bones mutters, having the grace to look a little abashed as he goes back to looking through Zee’s medical report.

“Okay, Zee, you’ve woken up… what happens next?”, Aurora says, clasping her hands together, her gaze intent.

“Well after that, I… there was…”, her lip wobbles a little, as big, fat salty tears start to fall down her face. “… well, there was nothing. Again. For so long. I… I couldn’t… I tried… but I just kept getting weaker and the darkness stayed. No change, no change, it felt endless… I… I…”

At this point, big, choked-sounding sobs escape from her mouth, and she desperately covers her mouth, willing them to stop, but they just keep coming. Just as Aurora leans over to comfort her, Jim spots Meeriana out the corner of his eye move automatically, one hand reaching out before quickly retracting as the detective rubs Zee’s back, telling her to breathe. He also sees the look of utter guilt upon her face, before strategically turning away again, her gaze fixed on the far wall.

“Zee, if you need to take a break…”

“I’m fine! I’m… sorry, I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I…”, she sighs and sniffs, screwing up the tissue the detective Aurora had offered in her hand. “Just continue, please, detective…”

“… alright.”, Aurora says, giving her a weary look before taking out her PADD again. “Did you ever see this woman again? The one who looked like you?”

“Yes… I counted twenty-two times. And… it was always the same. She’d stun me, and I’d wake up feeling like someone had stuck a needle in me.”

“Twenty-two?”, Aurora says, raising an eyebrow at her. “And would you say a similar amount of time elapsed between each visit?”

She shrugs, hair falling across her face.

“I’m not sure… sometimes it felt shorter, other times longer. Like I said, it was hard to keep time down there.”

“But around the same you might say?”

“Suppose? Does it matter?”

“Just trying to get a full picture here… was she the only one who ever visited you, or were there others?”

“She was the only one who ever visited. It wasn’t until… Jim…”, she says, nodding over at him. “… that I ever saw anyone else. And, uh…”, she blushes a little , gesturing at her cheek. “… sorry I scratched you up back there, captain…”

“Quite alright.”, Jim smiles at her. “I did take you by surprise, to be fair…”

“You did. You really did…”, she murmurs, laying back against her pillows before suddenly frowning. “Actually, Jim… what were you doing down there? Did Miri tell you about the bunker?”

“Yes, she did.”, Jim says, looking over at Meeriana who still refuses to meet his eye. “It’s thanks to her that we found you, really…”

“So… did someone work out I was taken then?”, Zee says, looking between him and Meeriana. “Did the P.O.V get in touch with you? Is that it? Are there other members here? What…?”

Suddenly, Meeriana starts trembling wildly, her breathing very erratic and shallow. Zee widens her eyes at her, clearly surprised by the outsized reaction to her fairly banal queries.

“Miri? Are you… I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? I…”

“Detective?”, Jim says shortly, addressing Aurora who is observing the whole proceedings quietly, clearly feeling very awkward. “Are you done questioning Zee for now? There’s… a lot we need to explain to her, and she might appreciate less of an audience.”

“Of course, Captain Kirk.”, Aurora says softly, before smiling over at Zee who still has a slightly bewildered look on her face. “Zee, thank you for talking to me, this has been very helpful… and if there’s anything else you remember, or something you forgot to mention, feel free to seek me out… I’ll be on the ship for the next couple of days, collating all my evidence.”

She gives Zee’s hand a small squeeze, and she returns the gesture with a weak smile, but it’s clear her attention is elsewhere. Her gaze keeps flicking back towards Meeriana, who seems more in control of her emotions now, but she’s still clutching her own shoulders tightly, like she might fall apart if she lets go.

As Aurora leaves the room, Bones hands Zee a small glass filled with a clear, bright yellow liquid which she sniffs suspiciously.

“The k’zkah is this?”

“A relaxant, kid… you’ll probably need it, after hearing what we have to say…”

Chapter Text

“Zee… as you may have already surmised from the evidence presented…”, Jim says quietly, carefully sitting himself down onto the chair next to her biobed. “… your imposter took over your identity and has been acting as ruler of Vallen for nearly two years now.”

“Shit. That is… what I was afraid of.”, Zee murmurs, looking down at her hands which are still clutching at the glass. “Has it been…. has it been bad?”

“Yes.”, Jim confirms, seeing no reason to spare her feelings right now- she would likely go looking for answers soon anyway, as soon as one helpful ensign handed her a spare PADD. “Your cousin or whoever it is… has been ruling with an iron first, claws and all. Billions are starving, yet the walls of their palaces only grow higher, and all dissent has effectively been silenced. She and her husband Grunig…”

Zee pulls a face when she hears that name- clearly there was no love lost there.

“… have continued to accumulate their colossal wealth, hoarding and stealing from their own citizens. And they are only looking to expand their power, with this alliance with the Federation- I’d bet good money actually they’re looking to once again conquer your sister planet Tolaz.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised- it was my father’s dream to one day make it part of Vallen.”, Zee says with a grimace. “Sounds like she would’ve made him proud… and you say Grunig’s ruling alongside her?!”

“Correct.”

“Pretending he’s married to… me?”, she says with a disgusted curl to her lip, before looking over at Meeriana all wide-eyed. “Oh gods, you thought I married that… that… creep…”

Meeriana just shakes her head, not meeting her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter…”

“But Miri, you have to understand that I… I would never…”

“I know that!”, Meeriana says heatedly, turning her face away. “Like I said, it really doesn’t matter…”

There’s an awkward stretch of silence between the two women, and eventually Jim finds it necessary to break it:

“So… uh… back to the topic at hand…”, he says, coughing slightly to get Zee’s attention. “… the point is, a lot has happened these last two years, and the harm done can’t be reversed now… but we can certainly stop it escalating any further. Meeriana here contacted me on behalf of the People of Vallen, asking for our help, and thanks to her, we now have a hell of an opportunity to take down these tyrants. Zee, once we make our report, and your doppelganger exposed as a fraud, you’ll go back to being the rightful ruler of Vallen…”

“I don’t want it.”, Zee says bluntly, putting down the glass on her side table with an emphatic ‘thud’. “I’ll take the throne for the weird interval period, but as soon as that’s over with, I’m giving the power back to the people- the P.O.V, to be specific. Like we always talked about…”, she says, giving Meeriana a meaningful look which she refuses to return.

Jim can hear Bones make a sharp inhale behind them, and even Spock has a minor eye twitch at the princess’s earnest proclamation.

He sighs- this was not going to be easy.

“Zee… I’m sorry, but… I’m afraid that’s no longer possible. The P.O.V… is no longer around. At least… not in the capacity that it was…”

She stares at him.

“What do you mean?! You just said that Miri contacted you on their orders…”

“No.”, Meeriana says quietly, shaking her head. “He said I did it on behalf of the P.O.V… it was my idea alone.”

Zee whips her head around to look at her, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“Your idea? You mean you didn’t let them know your plans?”

“No, I mean…”, Meeriana exhales shakily, hugging herself once again. “… like Jim said. The P.O.V doesn’t really exist anymore… besides me, and a handful of others.”

“What?”, Zee gapes, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her legs, gaze intent. “The group disbanded? Or… oh. Oh gods!” She puts her hand over her mouth, as a horrific realisation seems to form. “Did she get to them? How?”

Meeriana opens her mouth, then closes it again, not mute by choice this time, but clearly overcome by some intense emotion. She looks up at the ceiling, like she’s willing tears not to form, not helped by Zee leaning forward to place a bony hand on her shoulder, tears in her own eyes.

“Please… just tell me. What… what happened? Please, Miri…”

“Zee, I… I’m so sorry.”, Meeriana sniffs, rubbing at the side of her face as the first few fat droplets start to fall. “I should’ve known… should’ve known…”

“Known what, Miri? Here…”, she says, offering her a nearby box of tissues, but Meeriana is too overcome to notice right now, just continuing to babble incoherently:

“… I never should’ve met with her… should’ve never told her…”

“Miri, just take a deep breath. It’s alright…”

“But it’s not Zee! It’s not!”, Meeriana is sobbing now, clutching the side of her face, sharp claws digging into flesh. “I… called you, or the thing I thought was you, and we met up in the gardens, in the place we always met and… I spoke to her. I spoke to her, looked her in the eye, and it never even occurred to me…”

“You met with her?”, Zee stares at her, wide-eyed. “Oh gods, what did she do to you Miri? Is she the one who gave you those scars? I swear, I’ll kill her…”

“It’s what I deserve…”, Meeriana murmurs, head still in her hands. “All my fault…”

“How can you say that?! Miri…”

“I told her the safehouse location, okay?!”, Meeriana snaps suddenly, her head snapping up, eyes full of fire. “She asked for it, and I gave it to her… because I couldn’t see the deception right in front of me!”

Zee gapes at her, seemingly lost for words for a good while, as horrifying comprehension seems to form behind her eyes.

“You told her… where the safehouse was? I don’t… did people manage to…”

“I was one of few survivors that night.”, Meeriana says darkly, gesturing at burnt side of her face with the missing eye. “And one of the very few who managed to escape custody.”

“I… I… but surely, not everyone was there, that night…”

“Most were, Zee- and those who weren’t, were tracked down soon after.”, Meeriana says, closing her eyes as tears continue to fall. “A handful of us managed to escape off-planet, but honestly… I haven’t heard from any of the original members for months now. They could be dead for all I know…”

“But… but…”, Zee is shaking uncontrollably now, and Jim can spot Bones discretely start messaging for Nurse Chapel out of the corner of his eye. “What about… Janni? Kane? Nia…”

Meeriana can only shake her head in response, as she struggles to keep down the watery sobs.

“Miri… how many?”, Zee whispers, leaning forward and gazing at her with big, desperate eyes. “How many have died?”

“Th… that night… hundreds. The explosions… they just kept coming…”

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…”, Zee hunches forward, her face pale, completely hyperventilating as the machines she’s attached to start beeping away around her. Meeriana, momentarily distracted from her own distress, quickly rushes forward and places a steady hand on her back, worry etched into her features:

“Zee! Are you… try to… are you okay…?”

“Can’t breathe… can’t breathe…”

“Nurse!”, Bones barks at Chapel as soon as she walks in. “Help me lie her down, would you? And talk her through the panic attack procedure… get her breathing steady…”

As Chapel starts working on Zee, trying to make her breathe deeply in and out, Bones shoos the rest of them from the room in his most authoritative tone. As the doors swish closed behind them, Jim puts a hand on Meeriana’s shoulder, ready to dispense some platitudes. However, she just roughly shrugs him off and rushes down the corridor, black locks disappearing around the corner as captain and first officer stare after her.

Jim glances over at Spock, who returns his own concerned gaze impassively.

“Should I… go after her?”

Spock considers for a moment, tilting his head slightly.

“I think… that it would be best to leave her for now, Captain. Give both young ladies a chance to calm down and somewhat process their strong emotions.”

“Maybe, Spock…”, Jim mutters. “… but I’d feel better if we had some extra security stationed around the docking bay… and our escape pods, for that matter. I’m a little worried Meeriana might try going A.W.O.L while she’s compromised like this… actually, maybe we should get M’Benga to go check on her now…”

“Consider it done, sir.”, Spock says, taking his communicator out. “And may I suggest a ten-minute tea break for us?”

“… that sounds delightful, commander.”

Chapter Text

“I just don’t understand it!”

“Understand what, Captain?”, Uhura says casually, sipping at her own coffee cup. She had joined Spock and himself in the observation lounge, desperate for an update on the whole situation.

“Meeriana! The way she’s acting towards Feronzi… sorry, Zee. Of course, I understand why she’s upset… but surely she must see how she’s hurting? Someone who has been through hell, and needs the support of one of the few friends she has left?”

“You can hardly expect her to act rational, Captain.”, Uhura sighs, shaking her head at him. “She’s a young, traumatised person, and she had her whole sense of reality shaken the other day- give her time, she’ll come around.”

“Maybe so, but it’s still no excuse to act so cold towards her…”

“In my experience, Captain…”, Spock interrupts, placing down his own steaming teacup. “… for many humanoid species have the unfortunate tendency to lash out when experiencing overwhelmingly negative emotions, even towards those they claim to care about. Especially loved ones in fact, since they often tend to be in the firing line.”

Jim flushes a little.

“Spock, look… I know I already said I was sorry, but…”

“It was not an accusation, Captain… merely an observation.”, Spock monotones dryly, though he does brush his foot against his leg under the table. “And I cannot claim I have been exempt from such behaviour in the past… though I may have denied that was such the case at the time.”

“Don’t let Bones hear you admit that… he’d never let you live it down!”

“Live it…”, Spock gives a minute sigh and takes out his PADD. “That one I will have to look up…”

Uhura gives a little laugh at that.

“Learning something new from us humans every day, commander! Which reminds me… how was Admiral Una? Haven’t seen her for years!”

“She was in good health…”

“Spock…”, Uhura gives him a warning glance.

“And it was… nice to see her.”, Spock admits, taking another sip of his tea. “Though much of our conversation was taken up by the mission, so I was not able to gauge much information on her personal life currently…”

“You should arrange to meet with her again then!”, Uhura smiles. “Maybe invite her onto the Enterprise for old time’s sake sometime…”

“Perhaps… if both our schedules align at some point.”, Spock nods. “It is likely we will need to call on her as a witness in the future, if we are to look into dealing with the corruption issue within Starfleet.”

“True…”, Jim nods thoughtfully. “Mind you, I think if we taken down the imposter royal now, Henson will lose a hell of a bargaining chip, and all the dominos will fall into place for us from there…”

“I still can’t believe it.”, Uhura sighs, setting her mug down. “That poor thing, down there for all this time… right under our noses, while we were just upstairs arguing about this goddamn alliance…”

“It is crazy.”, Jim agrees. “But it does clear up a lot of questions I had- like why they were so insistent on not having Vulcans be present at the talks, or Captain Perkin’s Betazoid First Officer for that matter. They didn’t want any telepaths present, lest they discover the case of royal stolen identity, even accidentally.”

“Surely they didn’t think they could get away with this forever?!”, Uhura exclaims, horrified. “That no one would ever discover a woman chained up in their basement…”

“Not forever, lieutenant.”, Spock says calmly, sipping at his tea. “Just for the rest of their mortal lives…”

“You know that’s what I meant, commander! And why keep her alive anyway? For their own amusement?!”

“Based on the princess’s own testimony… it seems they were taking a blood sample from her every month or so.”, Spock replies, leaning forward to refill his own cup. “It would be logical to hypothesise that whatever treatment was required to make the imposter resemble the princess, it was not a permanent one, and that one of the ingredients required was a fresh blood sample-a thing not so easily replicated, even with the technology at our disposal today.”

“I’ve contacted Kol’s contact at Grunig’s company- the one specialising in plastic surgery and beauty treatments.”, Jim says grimly. “Hopefully that’ll turn up some answers soon… anything that will help us nail these bastards down.”

Uhura hums a little, considering:

“Well, if you run into any problems, let me know- I have some good friends in the media now, and they will eat this story up, let me tell you…”

Jim grins at her.

“That reporter give you her professional contact, did she?”

Uhura shakes her head, a sly smile growing across her face:

“No… her personal contact details, actually…”

“Why, lieutenant!”, Jim gasps, feigning shock. “And while we were at work, tsk tsk…”

“It’s diplomacy Captain! Anyway, now that you’re a taken man, somebody has to make nice with the locals…”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”, Jim laughs. “Well, good luck Lieutenant, but nobody does it like I do…”

“Oh please, Kirk.”, Uhura says, rolling her eyes. “I do just fine… how’d you think we got that extra shipment of dilithium crystals just the other month? You and Mr. Scott weren’t exactly getting anywhere with that Cardassian until I suggested me and him talk business over dinner…”

“Completely coincidental!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Captain!”, Uhura winks at him, smiling.

Jim is about to make a retort to that, but then his communicator starts beeping away, and he quickly makes to answer it when he sees the caller ID:

“Dr. M’Benga? Have you checked on Meeriana yet?”

“Apologies sir, but I got delayed with some injuries down in the science labs… I was calling to ask if you know her current location? She isn’t in guest quarters.”

“No?”, Jim frowns. “Strange… I’ll call security, they should be able to use the cameras to work out where on the ship she’s heading.”

“Very well sir… update me when you can. M’Benga out.”

With that, the line is disconnected, and before he can so much at return Spock and Uhura’s curious stares, his communicator starts buzzing away again. He presses accept, sighing:

“Mr. Chekov? Everything alright on the bridge?”

“Keptin, I am not on the bridge- I am in docking bay.”

“Has something happened, ensign?”, Jim asks, feeling quite worried now.

“It is Miss Anna…”

Jim pulls a blank for a second, then remembers that was the name Meeriana had given Chekov on their first meeting.

“Miss Anna… she is demanding that you lend her a shuttle. She is wanting to leave the Enterprise.”

“… I see.”, Jim murmurs, tapping his fingers on the table. “Ensign, ensure she stays there for now… I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Yes sir!”, Chekov says enthusiastically before Jim abruptly cuts him off.

Sighing again, he stands himself up and smiles grimly over at his companions:

“Well, you two can go back to your posts for now… tell Mr. Sulu he will remain acting captain this afternoon until further notice. This may take a while…”

Chapter Text

“Keptin!”, Chekov calls out, a relieved look on his face as he stands to attention. He’s standing in the corridor opposite the docking bay doors, with a member of security and a very pissed-off looking Meeriana.

“At ease, Ensign.”, Jim says simply, his eyes wandering over to Meeriana. “You and Samson can go back to your duties… I can handle this from here.”

“Yes, Keptin.”, Chekov says, both him and Samson saluting before walking off together, leaving him and Meeriana alone.

“Kirk…”, she says, taking a decisive step forward, her jaw set. “… I wish to leave this ship. Now.”

He sighs.

“Meeriana, let’s just… take a step back for a second and…”

“No!”, she says sharply, stuffing her hands into her pockets and staring daggers at the ground. “I need to go. I can’t be on the same ship as… as…”

She sighs, screwing her eyes shut and rubbing one of her knuckles against her forehead, looking very tired.

“I’m… grateful, I am, I really am, for everything you’ve done for me. For rescuing her and… look, you helped me out, our business together is over. So can you just… lend me a shuttle? Or have someone take me to a nearby planet, I really don’t care anymore.”

“Kol called me last night.”, Jim says, deliberately changing topic. “He wanted to talk to you, but apparently you weren’t picking up.”

“Oh. Right…”, Meeriana says softly, looking slightly guilty. “Is he… is he alright?”

“He says he is…”, Jim replies, deliberately not mentioning the pained sounds emitting from the receiver. Now was not the time. “And he asked that I look out for you… that I keep you safe while he’s unable to.”

“Yes, well… that’s not necessary.”, Meeriana mutters, sticking her chin out defiantly. “I’m not a child, I can look after myself…”

“Child or not, I cannot allow you to leave the safety of the Enterprise…”

“Oh for pity’s sake!”, she exclaims, throwing her hands up. “I want to leave! You can’t keep me here against my will!”

“Perhaps not.”, Jim agrees, looking her up and down. “But I’m hoping I can convince you staying is the better option.”

When she just scoffs at that, he turns up the heat a little:

“Meeriana, how do you think Zee is going to feel if you get yourself arrested out there? Or worse, killed?”

“Don’t.”, she says shortly, putting one clawed finger up, her one good eye filled with fire. “Don’t you bring her into this…”

“Well, it’s hard not to… she is the reason you’re trying to run away, yes?”

“And what if she is?!”, Meeriana snarls. “What do you expect me to do?! I’m the entire reason she was kidnapped and… and… tortured at the hands of those monsters. If I was her, I’d never want to see me again… every second longer I spend here makes things worse…”

“Sounds like you’re projecting your own feelings about yourself onto her, Meeriana.”, Jim says softly, taking a small step forward. “One of the first things she requested when she woke up was to see you…”

“Yes, well, that was before she heard how my own stupidity and selfishness got our friends killed! Gods, Kirk, you have no idea… how much she cared about them. How could I…”, Meeriana’s voice cracks a little, tears threatening to spill. “… how could I ever believe she’d be willing to hurt them?”

“You told me you didn’t believe it at first.”, Jim points out. “That it took you months to even consider she might’ve betrayed you…”

“But I did, in the end! When I should’ve seen the obvious, right in front of me, we could’ve rescued her so much sooner…”

“Meeriana.”, Jim says firmly, grabbing her by the shoulders now to make her look at him. “Nobody realised a switch had happened- you can’t blame yourself…”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do, Captain!”, she growls, pushing him off her. “Just… let me leave!”

He gives her a steely glare, crossing his arms across his chest:

“… no.”

She returns his steel with full-on fiery torrents.

“No?!”, she snarls. “What you going to do then? Lock me up so I don’t escape?”

“… I’d really rather it didn’t come to that.”, Jim says quietly, his eyes softening a little. “Meeriana, give it a day or so, then we can talk about…”

“No!!”, Meeriana yells, practically screaming now. “I’m done talking! I need to go!”

“Meeriana, Kol isn’t on Cermat 7 anymore, there’s no one there to protect you…”

“That’s good then!! I’m sick of… I’m tired of people sticking their necks out for me! I don’t deserve it! I just get them hurt! Everyone who’s ever helped me… the universe keeps telling me I should be dead, and I’ve refused to listen to it, and people get hurt as a result. I should’ve starved to death on the streets, but the P.O.V took me in, I should’ve been executed but Zee saved me, I should’ve died in the safehouse during the bombings, but an old guy pushed me out of the way of the debris, I should’ve been stabbed in the streets but Kol saved me…”

She’s sobbing hysterically now, uncontrolled and loud, claws clutching at her face, digging into scorched flesh, drawing blood.

“… I shouldn’t be alive when they’re all… all… dead. I should’ve suffered in Zee’s place, Kol shouldn’t be on the run because of my stupid plan…”

“Meeriana!”, Jim says firmly, grabbing her hands, trying to stop the scratching. “You’re just as much a victim as any of them…”

“You really believe that, Kirk?!”, she half-chokes, half-laughs bitterly. “Because from where I’m standing, I’m a curse, a plague… and you know the stupidest thing of all? The only thing keeping me going these past couple of years was my hatred for her- that… that… as much as I had fucked up, there was someone else I could blame… but no. Not her, just me. A stupid, worthless, pathetic bitch… thought I could keep fighting, make it up to them, all of them, but no, there’s no redemption, no redemption…”

Suddenly, she collapses, her legs buckling out from underneath her and Jim has to catch her on the way down, holding her close to him, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she sobs into his chest, nearly incapable of speech now.

“Hey, hey…”, he whispers, gently rubbing her shoulder blade as she continues to weep. “It’s alright, it’ll be alright…”

“But it’s not, Jim.”, she croaks into his shoulder, her voice slightly muffled. “I’m just so… tired. I’m tired of hurting all the time, I’m tired of losing people, I’m tired of all the endless, sleepless nights. I… I just… want to stop. I…”, she closes her eyes a moment, shaking. “… I just… can’t. So tired… just want to stop…”

Jim doesn’t respond, just continues to rub her shoulder blades while she cries it all out. He’s very grateful that no one disturbs them, lest Meeriana gets spooked and makes an abrupt run for it again.

When the sobs begin to subside a little, small sniffles rather than full-on gulps, he leans back a little, still holding her by the shoulders as he looks into her puffy, tear-stained face.

“Look, Meeriana…”, he murmurs, pushing some stray locks of hair out of her eye. “… I wish I knew what to say to make yourself stop blaming yourself… all I will say is it took me a long time for me to stop berating myself for still being alive, when people more deserving died in my place… and in some cases, stood directly in the firing line for my sake. I still have bad days, to be honest, when I ask myself why me and not them… but I promise you, it gets better.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, captain.”, Meeriana snorts, giving him a watery half-smile.

“I never do.”, Jim smiles at her, before offering his hand so he can guide her back up to shakily standing. “And listen… I won’t keep you here against your will. But I do ask… that you hold off on leaving for now. Give it a day, and if you still want to go, we’ll talk.”

“I don’t know, Jim…”, she sighs. “I just… don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stick around here.”

“Meeriana, Zee needs you. You’re her only friend left from her past life… I don’t know her that well, but I do know that, if I was in her shoes, I’d be feeling very alone right now. You don’t think she at least deserves a proper goodbye at least, before you go flying off into the cosmos?”

She chews on her bottom lip, still looking doubtful, so Jim switches to tactics:

“Look, how’s this? You visit Zee in sickbay, and talk to her- properly talk to her, mind you- and I’ll consider lending you a shuttle. Maybe. Do we have a deal?”

He holds his hand out, and Meeriana looks down at it glassy eyed for a second before tentatively grasping it, giving it a half-hearted shake.

“Deal… but I hope you know, this is going to end badly.”

“Don’t be so sure.”, Jim smiles softly at her, putting his arm across her shoulder. “I’ve got a good instinct for these things…”

“… your doctor friend says otherwise.”

“Yes, well, he’s an asshole.”

For the first time in a while, she lets out a genuine-sounding laugh.

Chapter Text

Jim has to slightly push Meeriana forward into the room, noticing her hesitation as the sickbay doors swish open in front of them. He’d gotten her this far, he wasn’t having her chicken out of it now.

As she slightly stumbles forward, Zee, who had been hunched forward on the bed, long dark hair covering her face, glances up at the source of the disturbance. Her eyes are still watering and her mouth thins slightly when she sees who her visitors are.

“Oh. Hey…”, she whispers hoarsely, looking down at her lap again while Bones readjusts one of her monitor patches. “I… sorry for freaking out back there.  It was… a bit of shock. Hearing about…”

Her voice trails off, her lip trembling slightly, the words not even able to leave her mouth right now.

Meeriana stares at her.

“Why are you apologising? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

At that, Zee snorts, wiping her wet face with the back of her hand.

“That’s a fucking joke, right? Come on, Miri! I thought we agreed to always be honest with each other at least…”

At that, Meeriana’s eyes widen, a look of total confusion on her face.

“What are you talking about? Of course I knew this news would upset you. It’s why I was dreading…”

“‘Nothing to be sorry for’?”, Zee says mockingly, her lip curling slightly. “You know, just because I’ve had a rough time these last couple of years, doesn’t mean you have to pretend not to hate me.”

“Hate you?”, Meeriana exhales, completely dumbfounded. “Zee, I know you were replaced by an imposter now. Gods knows, I should’ve realised from the start, but I know now. Noone can blame you for her actions…”

“STOP!”, Zee suddenly screams, making everyone present in sickbay flinch. “You know that’s not what I’m goddam talking about! Dear gods, I didn’t understand why you could hardly stand to look at me before, but believe me, I get it now… they’re all dead, because of me, and… and…”, she takes a shaky breath, putting a hand over her mouth as she screws her eyes shut. “… and I have to live with that. That I put you through k’zkah these last few years, that I… I got you hurt, badly hurt and I… I…”

She collapses into a sobbing mess again, even as she tries desperately to somewhat contain it, taking deep breaths and muffling the noises with bedsheets. Meeriana rushes to her bedside, putting a hand on her arm as she ignores Bones’s slightly disapproving stare.

“Zee, what… I really have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened was… in no way… your fault…”

“You always said me getting involved with the P.O.V would get people hurt… and it did. You tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t listen because I was just a… a stupid little rich girl playing rebel…”

“I just said that because I… was scared you’d get hurt, and I was desperately thinking of ways to talk you out of it…”

“It doesn’t matter what your reasons were, Miri… all that matters, is that you were correct.”, Zee mutters, taking another shaky breath. “If I never got involved, everyone would still be alive…”

“Zee, you don’t know that…”

“Yes, I do! So do you! I… saw it in your eyes when you first walked in here. You…”, Zee’s lip wobbles a little as fresh tears fall down her face. “… you hate me for what happened. Even if you won’t admit it out loud…”

Meeriana stares at her, completely horrified.

“How could you even think that?! Zee, the only person I hate here is myself!”

Zee just shakes her head at her, sniffing slightly:

“Please don’t… lie. Don’t try to spare my feelings like that…”

“I’m not lying! What happened to our people… it was all my fault Zee! And if you weren’t so in shock right now, you would realise that…”

“I’m not in shock!”, Zee retorts, sticking her chin out defiantly. “How the k’zkah is any of this your fault?!”

“How is it not my fault?!”, Meeriana retorts back, starting to raise her voice now. “I gave her the location to our safehouse!”

“Yeah, only because you thought it was me!”

“But I should’ve known it wasn’t you!”

“How?! She looks just like me!”

“But I know who you are, how you act! I should’ve been able to look her in the eyes and know it wasn’t you…”

“Oh, stop being such a goddamn romantic Miri! Besides, nobody could tell it wasn’t me, not even my own mother…”

“Like that bitch counts!”, Miri exclaims, waving her hand dismissively. “The point is, I talked to the imposter that night, I noticed she was acting strange, and yet I still didn’t put two and two together…”

“What, that my cousin was keeping me in the basement and pretending to be me using some kind of weird-science magic disguise?”, Zee scoffs, folding her thin arms across her chest. “Who would, Miri?”

“No, I just mean I… should’ve realised something was wrong. I should’ve never…”, Miri closes her eyes, breathing heavily. “… I should’ve never told her the location. I go over that night, every day in my mind, trying desperately to change the outcome and I…”, she shakes her head, eyebrows scrunching. “… I can’t. Can’t change… what I did. Stupid… stupid mistake. I should’ve realised… we could’ve saved you sooner. You wouldn’t have been down there… all that time. I wouldn’t have spent these last two years believing that you would… you would… betray me like that… should’ve never believed you’d do such a thing in the first place…”

“It was the only logical conclusion…”

“No! It wasn’t!”, Meeriana shouts, sounding extremely frustrated now. “Goddamnit Zee, you should hate me! You were kidnapped and I didn’t even realise!”

Zee stares at her, momentarily lost for words.

“How… how can you… Miri, me getting kidnapped was my own damn fault! I always knew Cousin Zavvi was a snake- I should’ve never taken her at her word, or gone off with her alone, without my guards…”

“You’re blaming yourself for getting kidnapped now?! That is… oh, that is…”, Meeriana is shaking now, her face flushed. “… that is idiotic, Zee!”

“No, what’s idiotic is you blaming yourself for apparently not having goddamn telepathy…”

"You don't need telepathy to know you're talking to a complete stranger! Gods, the way she talked to me was completely different to you..."

"You talked to her, for what? Five minutes? Of course you couldn't tell! And I was the one who left my communicator lying around for Zavvi to find! I should've hid it better..."

"She would never have found it if I hadn't tried to get in touch with you in the first place!"

"Oh for the love of...", Zee holds her head, clawed fingers digging into her scalp. "Stop being an idiot and just admit you blame me! I saw the way you looked at me, like you hated me..."

"I don't blame you!", Meeriana growls. "The only person I hate here is me! And if you had any sense, you'd hate me too! Maybe you're the idiot if you think..."

“OH FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!”, Bones suddenly yells, slamming down his PADD on a nearby table, causing everyone to jump slightly and stare at him. “BOTH OF YOU ARE IDIOTS! You have actual real-life supervillains out there, responsible for both your plights, and here you both are, blaming yourselves for no goddamn reason! Now either you two stop being such melodramatic idiots or separate yourselves! Because me personally, I can’t stand another goddamn minute of these histrionics! Sort yourselves out or get the hell out!”

He points at the door to emphasise his point. The two women just stare at him gobsmacked for a moment before exchanging a heavy look with each other.

“Rude little man… isn’t he?”, Zee mutters out the side of her mouth, nodding her head in the doctor’s direction.

“That’s what I keep saying!”, Meeriana exclaims, the corners of her lips tugging up ever so slightly. “The rudest!”

Zee responds in turn with her own ghost of a smile, the smallest of dimples at the corners. Just as suddenly, her face turns to one of sorrow again, lowering her head:

“Miri, if you really think that I… blame you for what happened to me, please know nothing could be further from the truth. All the time I was down there, I just hoped that they… hadn’t gotten to you too, because of me. And it seems like…”, she winces slightly as she casts her eyes over the deep burns. “… it seems like they did. And not just you, everyone…”

“Zee…”, Meeriana whispers, leaning forward and clutching her arm. “Please don’t think that! I don’t want you to ever… ever…”

She breaks off, sobs threatening to break as her eyes begin to water again. Taking a heavy breath, she pushes her hair out of her face and looks up at Zee, who has tears streaking down her own face, travelling down the planes of her hollowed-out cheeks. She places her open palm on the bed, and looks at Meeriana expectantly, who immediately clasps it, running her own calloused pads over her knuckles.

For a while the two women stay like that, staring at each other like they were seeing one another for the very first time again.

Suddenly, they both surge forward with newfound energy, clutching their faces together as they kiss each other, lips moving against each other, only coming up for air or to say brief, breathy fragments of sentences:

“… thought I… lost you…”

“… all I ever thought about…”

“… missed you… more than… anything…”

Bones simply rolls his eyes and starts typing away at his desk again, while Spock suddenly seems to find the ceiling of sickbay absolutely fascinating. Jim, for his part, doesn’t know where to look, looking every direction but the two women making out in bed.

After what feels like a minute, he makes the executive decision to gently interrupt:

“Hey… um… ladies…”, he says, coughing slightly, his tanned face flushed pink.

The two women break their faces apart, looking rather flushed themselves as they stare over at the three men, like they’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. Jim noticed with some amusement that Meeriana was practically lying on top of Zee now, her tall, muscular frame completely dwarfing her.

“… so can I assume you two want to be left alone right now? For a… uh… proper catch-up?”

“Oh! Uh… yes!”, Meeriana blushes, untangling herself from the bed and sitting herself back down. “If you three... wouldn’t… mind…”

“Not at all!”, Jim smiles, wandering over to the door, waving over for his two friends to follow. “Just let us know if you need anything!”

“… I’m kind of hungry.”

“I’m not.”, Zee says, pulling a face. “But I should probably try eating something… the nurse said I might be able to keep down soup…”

“Great, I’ll have one of my yeoman’s bring you something.”, Jim nods, putting his hand on the control panel, allowing the door to swish open.

“And don’t over exhaust my patient!”, Bones snaps, following after Jim and Spock through the doorway. “She’s still undergoing a lot of muscle regeneration…”

“Whatever…”, Meeriana mutters, rolling her eyes at him as she continues to stroke the back of Zee’s head, who leans into her shoulder happily.

“I mean it! Break my patient or the bed, and we will be having words…”

The last thing the three men see as the door finally swishes closed in front of them is Zee arranging her fingers into an offensive Vallen hand gesture once again.

*****************************************************************************************

Walking down the quiet corridor, Jim turns to look at his friend, laughter threatening to bubble to the surface:

“You really know how to charm them, Bones…”

The doctor shrugs.

“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar… but sometimes a goddamn flyswat will do just as well. Now, I don’t know about you gentleman, but I’ve had a hell of a morning. Gotta get some coffee down me, stat…”

’Me and the Captain drank hot beverages less than an hour ago, doctor…”

’Did I ask, Spock? Besides, I bet you two didn’t Irish-up your coffee...”

Chapter Text

“Captain!”, Uhura calls out, turning around in her chair. “I’ve just had a message from the Vallen ambassadors that they are looking to finalise the terms of the alliance agreement by the end of this week- assuming Starfleet has worked out their issue with their senior member's data leak by then. Shall I let them know you’ll be able to attend?”

“… actually, no lieutenant.”, Jim says primly, leaning over to look at her from his captain’s chair. “Please tell them that unfortunately I’ll be otherwise occupied then, and my apologies to her highness.”

“You think that’s wise, sir?”, Uhura says, raising her eyebrow at him. “The princess did ask for you by name specifically…”

“Quite sure, lieutenant.”, he says, waving his hand. “Actually, would you like to attend in my steed? You can take any other member of senior staff of your choosing, for moral support if nothing else.”

“… perhaps Commander Scott? Many visitor aliens have found his accent quite charming in the past.”

“Sounds good, lieutenant- though you may have to bribe our chief engineer with a case full of Aberdeen whisky.”

“Noted sir.”, Uhura smiles, writing something down on her PADD. “Oh, and there’s been a communication from the Vulcan ambassador this morning- something about choosing a location for a ceremony?”

Goddamn Sarek…

“… I’ll respond to him in my own time, lieutenant.”, Jim says shortly, giving her a look that very much said: ‘Don’t ask.’

She responds with her own look that says: ‘You will be answering all my questions later.’

Sighing, he looks back towards the navigation panel where Chekov and Sulu are sitting idle, clearly bored out of their minds:

“I swear if we have to be docked around this planet one more day, I’m putting in a request for a transfer. When I signed up for a five-year mission, it was to get away from all this diplomacy…”

“… da. If I vanted to stay in orbit awound one pwanet for veeks on end, I vould’ve vorked on Earth’s main orbiting space station…”

“Patience, gentlemen.”, Jim says, crossing over his legs casually. “It won’t be long now, and we can go back to doing what we do best…”

“Getting ourselves into mortal peril, sir?”, Sulu says dryly, turning back to look at him.

“… I was going to say discovering strange new worlds and cultures... but I suppose they can be one and the same on occasion, granted lieutenant.”, Jim shrugs. “Though with the latest risk adverse strategy we’ve adopted going forward, hopefully this final year will be far less eventful…”

“With how dull this week has been sir, I can believe it.”, Sulu responds, rolling his eyes at him.

Oh, if only you knew what’s been going on lieutenant… what I would give for a dull day…

“Mr. Sulu, you have the conn for now.”, Jim nods over at him, pushing himself out of his chair. “I have to go talk to my first officer.”

“Oh, I bet you…”

“Lieutenant!”, Jim barks at him, his panicked eyes wandering around the room, hoping no one else besides Uhura had picked up on Sulu’s less than subtle comment.

“… sorry sir.”, Sulu responds, having the grace to look a little bit abashed.

He gives him a short nod and a smile to show no hard feelings before making his way towards the turbolift, sighing as the doors swish closed in front of him. Spock had been supposed to get in touch with him about ten minutes ago about his meeting progress with Detective Aurora, and there had still been no word.

It was very unlike him not to be punctual.

As he reached the correct briefing room, he’s met with the sight of multiple full-length virtual screens, dotted with lines and notes he couldn’t even begin to guess the relevance of. Though apparently, they did mean something to Spock and Aurora, who are gazing intensely at multiple screens at once.

“But perhaps if we talked to him first…”

“But then this superintendent would be aware… and you thought it quite likely he was compromised…”

“Yes, but I also said I wasn’t certain…”

“Hey, um…”, Jim says, coughing a little. “Can I assume you two are starting to hit a brick wall here?”

“Oh! Captain!”, Aurora exclaims, clearly surprised to see him standing there. “Apologies, we got a little carried away here…”

“I can see that…”, Jim murmurs, squinting at the screen. “What is all this?”

“It is a three-dimensional representation of the organisational structure of Starfleet law enforcement, Captain…”, Spock explains, his eyeline not leaving the screens. “… and we’ve also noted down the likely trustworthiness of each individual, whether they are aware of or are involved with the corruption going on within our organisation…”

“I see…”, Jim says, nodding slowly. “I assume this is to do with you filing your report against Henson and the Vallen royals, Detective?”

“Correct sir…”, Aurora says grimly, pulling a face. “Being able to file our report without accidentally informing one of the traitors in our midst in the process, giving them time to build up their defence and fabricate evidence… it’s proving to be difficult. Difficult, but not impossible. I think me and Mr. Spock are close to having a foolproof plan here… but that might just be the optimism talking.”

“I have faith in you, Detective.”, Jim smiles at her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “But I must say, the sooner the better… as you said, we can’t give them the chance to retaliate before we even strike first. While the iron is hot and all that.”

“Understood sir…”, Aurora murmurs, turning back to the screens, arms crossed across her chest. “You’ll have our plan within the next hour.”

“Good to hear.”, he nods. “I’ll leave you both to it.”

He makes to walk out the room, but immediately walks straight into Uhura, who is equally startled by him.

“Oh, Captain, apologies! It’s just that… I’ve had some news come through and I thought it best I come to you in person…”

“What is it, lieutenant?”, he frowns, noting that the PADD she’s carrying is open on some kind of news channel.

“Well, your… accomplice, sir, Kol… he’s been arrested!”, Uhura exclaims, handing over the PADD so he can read the headlines. “Just fifteen minutes ago apparently!”

“Oh, goddamnit…”, Jim mutters, scrolling through the article. “Says here he’s claiming to have worked alone, which is something at least… but this is definitely not the news I want to be giving Meeriana right now- if she hasn’t heard about it already, of course. Lieutenant, get in touch with Sam Codgley over a secure channel, explain the situation, make sure he gets him the best defence he can find- but make it clear that no one can find out the request came from us.”

“Yes, sir.”, Uhura nods, already putting a hand to her headset. “What shall I…”

Jim’s communicator starts buzzing away, interrupting her, and he makes to put it on hold, but then he sees the caller ID and sighs.

“Apologies, lieutenant, I should probably take this… Meeriana!”, he says into the receiver, raising a curious eyebrow. “Everything alright up there? Haven’t heard from you two in hours!”

“Kirk, you need to come up to sickbay. Now.”

“Why, did something…”

“Someone just tried to kidnap Zee!”

Jim stares at the communicator a moment, before looking up and meeting Uhura’s equally bewildered face.

“Sir, shall I… tell Lieutenant Sulu he has the conn for the rest of this shift?”

“… I believe that would be wise lieutenant, yes.”

And with that, he rushes out of the room, Spock hot on his heels, the turbolift not going fast enough for either of them.

Oh, what he would give for a dull day…

Chapter Text

He and Spock were greeted by the sight of two of his security officers in sickbay, holding onto a fellow red-uniformed colleague of theirs, slightly grey in pallor and slumped forward, the hilt of a dagger sticking out of his shoulder. A dark brown to red stain emits from the site of the object, and one of his eyelids is bruised purple, like he’s been punched.

“What the…”, Jim looks over their shoulders towards the bed, where he sees Meeriana sat next to Zee, arms wrapped protectively around her. Both seem unharmed, though Zee seems a little groggy, barely able to open her eyes right now. “… what the hell happened here?!”

“He happened.”, Meeriana growls, pointing her finger at the man currently being held up by his security officers. “I went to the bathroom to freshen up a little, and when I came back, he was trying to move Zee over to a gurney, claiming you had requested she be moved to a more secure area… he showed me a message from you to prove it, but I told him I wanted to hear it from your own mouth. He told me you were busy, so I told him I was happy to wait and then… that’s when the bastard attacked. He tried to choke me out, but I managed to reach the dagger I had hidden on me…”

“Speaking of which, where was she hiding that?”, Bones murmurs from the corner of the room, hidden from view the large computer he’s crouched behind on his desk.

She either doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore him.

“… and once I incapacitated him, I knocked him out cold and called the guards in here. Though fat lot of good they are, letting this psycho through in the first place…”

“Okay, Meeriana, that’s quite enough…”, Jim says putting a hand up, before turning towards his men with a heavy glare. “Though I must ask in future, officers, that you not let anyone in here who isn’t on the approved list, even if they do claim to be entering on my orders. Unless you hear it from my own mouth, they are not allowed in- understood?”

His men murmur their affirmatives, looking suitably ashamed of themselves, before dragging the perpetrator out of sickbay to be taken to the brig, still woozy on his feet.

“I believe that was Lieutenant Graham, Captain- one of our latest transfers during our last stay at Starbase VI.”, Spock says thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow. “Him amongst sixteen others…”

“Yes, I remember, Spock.”, Jim murmurs, cracking his knuckles as he mulls this latest unfortunate bit of information over. “Spock, please check over the records of these latest transfers- see if they’ve ever worked directly or indirectly in any capacity for Henson or any other persons of interest.”

“Yes sir…”, Spock nods, making his way towards the door. “You will have my report within the hour.”

“Good.”, Jim nods at his retreating back, before walking over to the two women, looking down at Zee with concern. “Are you alright there, your highness?”

“Told you… not to…”, Zee sighs, widening her eyes like she’s struggling to keep them open. “… not to call me that…”

He smiles faintly at that, before turning to the doctor with a concerned frown.

“Did he give her something, doctor? She seems a little out of it…”

“A sedative, Jim… but don’t worry, I’m replicating a shot for her now. Should get her back to normal in a jiffy…”

With one push of the hypospray, Zee is suddenly sitting bolt upright, eyes darting wildly around the room:

“Gods! What the k’zkah? Who was he?! And why did your men let him in here?!”

Jim sighs and sits himself down next to her, his mouth thinning with displeasure:

“Because, unfortunately, he is- or was- a member of my security team. My apologies, Zee- I should’ve expected this. I was aware of the corruption going on within our ranks, and yet I didn’t take extra precautions…”

“This whole Starfleet business? Miri was just telling me about all that.”, Zee says, turning towards her. “So… it wasn’t my family ordering a hit on me…?”

“I didn’t say that… if anything, I think a certain high-up member of Starfleet, Admiral Henson, is collaborating with the Vallen royals, and has placed spies amongst my crew. Clearly, that guard was one of them. He likely got word about your presence on the Enterprise, and informed Henson of that very fact… it’s very likely that he’s already passed on that message to your cousin and husband as well.”

“And… what? He ordered him to kill me?”, Zee shivers, pulling the bedsheets up her body.

“No… I believe he was trying to take you back to Vallen. For whatever reason, they were taking blood samples from you while you were imprisoned…”, Jim trails off, his gaze flitting across the silvery dots on the side of her neck, healed scars from various needles.  “… so it’s very likely that the imposter princess’s disguise requires fresh DNA samples… from a live host.”

“… ah.”, Zee whispers, taking a shaky breath as she seems to be doing her very best to stay calm. “A… and you think that there’s… more of them? On this ship? People who want to take me… back to them?”

“… I’m not certain.”, Jim sighs, rubbing at his temples a little. “That’s what we’re trying to ascertain now…”

“So I’m not… safe here? And my cousin… she knows I’ve escaped?!”

“Perhaps.”, Jim says sadly, noting the look of utter dismay on both women’s faces. “But don’t worry- I’ll make sure only personnel I know for sure I can trust, people I’ve worked with for years, are stationed outside your door from now on. As for the royals, well… I’ll try and think up an excuse to leave this system, outside of this government’s jurisdiction.”

“But how will you…”

“Leave it with me.”, Jim says firmly, putting a hand up. “I’ll sort this- you have my word.”

Zee chews on her bottom lip, still not looking convinced, but Meeriana puts a comforting arm around her shoulder and presses a light kiss to her temple:

“Don’t worry… I’ll be here.”, she whispers, stroking her hair. “Noone is going to touch you again, not while I’m around…”

“… no kidding.”, Zee says, raising an amused brow. “You really haven’t lost your touch when it comes to being my bodyguard, have you? Clean stab, one punch to the noggin, and boom- out cold.”

“… you gave me a lot of practice. You were always getting yourself into situations- unnecessarily, I might add.”

“Gods, remember when we first met? You were so pissed at me that day…”

“Of course I was pissed! If I’d manage to lose the royal I was supposed to be protecting, the first day on the job I might add, that would’ve been prison time for me!”

“Still though…”, she grins, interlacing Meeriana’s fingers with her own. “You have to admit, you were a little impressed I got as far as I did… I nearly made it all of the way out of the palace grounds!”

“… you were literally about to electrocute yourself on the outer perimeter when I found you.”

“Yes, well…”, she sniffs. “… how was I supposed to know the fence was electric?”

“The loud buzzing sound, maybe? And the sign!”

“Yeah, but besides that…”

Suddenly, the doors swish open, interrupting them, and security chief Giotto enters, his face grim like he’s expecting a reprimand.

“Captain.”, he says, nodding over and immediately standing to attention. “I was just informed about Graham- he’s been brought to the brig now and rest assured, will be dealt with…”

“Very good, Giotto- please could you send Garrovick and Chekov down here to stand guard for now? And anyone else you believe is above suspicion…”

“Yes sir.”, he says, saluting. “And Mr. Spock has asked that the other fifteen new recruits be secluded… I will be interrogating them in due course.”

“Alright, commander- dismissed.”, Jim nods curtly, before turning back to the two women. “Meeriana- I saw that dagger of yours was still embedded in Graham. I assume you’ll be wanting it back?”

“… if you wouldn’t mind, Captain. It was one of my nicer ones…”

“One of them?! How many do you have on you?”

“… no comment.”

*****************************************************************************************

He finds Spock in his quarters, hunched over the desk at his computer, scanning multiple documents seemingly simultaneously.

“Ah, captain…”, he says, acknowledging him without looking up. “I was just putting the final touches to my report. I’ve not found anything suspect about the remaining fifteen individuals, but I would still advise extensive questioning…”

“Excellent- thank you, commander.”, Jim nods, walking up to him, hands behind his back. “I’ll let Giotto know… now, if you wouldn’t mind, I have one more task for you…”

“Yes sir?”

“I need you to tell Mr. Scott that you just checked our shields, and have found extensive damage to them, far exceeding the risk assessment limits recommended by the Starfleet handbook for interstellar travel- understood?”

“Pardon sir?”, Spock says, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “But I have not checked our shields since yesterday- and I found no faults with them at the time.”

“Spock…”, Jim sighs, leaning over him and laying a hand on his shoulder. “What is the official advice given in the handbook regarding immediate actions after a ship’s shields have been shown to fail?”

“That repairs be made and an official report be made to Starfleet, sir. And that the vessel must return to the nearest Starfleet affiliated repair station as soon as possible, for further inspection and functional testing.”

“And the nearest Starfleet station is where…?”

“Cermat 7, sir.”, Spock responds promptly, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Outside of the Vallen government’s current legal jurisdiction…”

“Now you’re getting it…”, Jim smiles, planting a light kiss on his cheek. “… now, as first officer, please go make your report to Mr. Scott.”

“Jim…”, Spock says stoically, giving him a withering stare. “… you are asking me to lie.”

“Not to lie, commander! I think you’ll find if you check our shields now, you will find them quite non-functional… some saboteur must be on board!”, Jim exclaims, widening his eyes innocently at him.

It’s then that Spock notices the minor burns and scorch marks on his captain’s uniform.

He gives a minute sigh.

“And I suppose, this saboteur managed not to leave any DNA evidence behind?”

“Not so much as a hair follicle, commander!”, Jim grins, running a hand through his own light brown locks. “But I suppose it would be logical to assume the princess’s kidnapper is the one responsible, yes?”

“… I suppose it would be, Jim.”

“Well, with that sorted then…”, Jim chuckles, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go tell Scotty the good news- I’m sure he’ll be just as happy as the rest of us to leave this godforsaken star system!”

Chapter Text

“Kirk!”, Meeriana exclaims, leaping up from Zee’s beside as he wanders through the door. “What’s happening?! Why did the ship just go into warp?!”

“Because we’re heading back to a little dwarf planet you’ll be very familiar with, Meeriana.”, Jim smiles at her, plopping himself down on a nearby chair. “I reckoned it would be best to put a little distance between us and Vallen for now…”

“Cermat 7?”, Meeriana whispers, raising her brows at him. “Gods, didn’t think I’d be going back there so soon… oh!”, she suddenly gasps, pointing at a holoscreen currently playing news at the foot of Zee’s bed. “Wait, isn’t that… Kol?!”

Jim turns to see where she is looking and groans when he sees the headline:

‘CYBER CRIMINAL BEHIND STARFLEET DATALEAK APPREHENDED EN-ROUTE TO ROMULAN BORDER…”

“Damnnit…”, Jim sighs, scratching the back of his head. “I meant to tell you about that before, but well… other things came up…”

“Who the k’zkah is Kol?”, Zee murmurs, squinting at the projected image of a young blonde gentleman being led away in cuffs, several huge uniformed gentlemen by his side.

“You know him, Zee… but he went by Piu’et back then.”,  Meeriana explains, her gaze still pinned to the screen.

“Oh, him! He’s gone back to blonde I see… that’s good, the green really didn’t suit him…”

“… concentrating on the wrong thing right now, Zee…”

Zee gives her a confused look before turning back to the screen, her eyes scanning the headlines before giving a little gasp:

“Oh! He’s been arrested!”

“Now she gets it…”, Meeriana mutters, shaking her head a little before turning back to Jim: “Captain, I’m so sorry, I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but if you could… please… help him…”

“Already on it.”, Jim nods. “I’ve asked an old lawyer friend of mine to look into giving him the best defence we can find…”

“But will he even get a fair trial?! You said it yourself, Starfleet’s admiralty is rotten to the core right now, and they will be looking to make an example of anyone who goes against them…”

“We’ll deal with this one step at a time, Meeriana.”, Jim says resolutely, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder. “But rest assured, I will do everything in my power to make sure he goes free… I just can’t promise it’ll be straightforward.”

“Is anything?”, Meeriana laughs bitterly, scratching her arms a little.

“I told you to stop doing that!”, Bones yells as he suddenly appears in the doorway from his office. “I’ve got mittens for you right here…”

Meeriana rolls her eyes at him and lays herself down on the bed again next to Zee, her body over the sheets as the princess looks down at her and tentatively hovers her hand over a particularly large burn mark beneath her prosthetic eye.

“The skin here… it looks very tight, Miri…”, she whispers, drawing her hand back a little when she sees her flinch a little. “Does it… are you in pain?”

Meeriana just shrugs, turning her face to the side a little, showing off the unharmed side of her face.

“I’ve had a long time to get used to it…”

“That doesn’t answer my question. You are, aren’t you?”

“… I have some meds with me…”

“Miri!”, Zee sighs, reaching over a hand through her dark curls. “You should get that looked at, especially now that you’re not on the run anymore…”

Meeriana just snorts and turns away again.

“Look, I get it Zee… I’m not exactly as pretty as I used to be…”, she says, trying to sound jovial as she gestures at her face but it just comes out bitter.

“Gods, that’s not it, and you know it, Miri!”, Zee exclaims, looking genuinely offended. “You’re in pain when you don’t need to be! And that eye looks like it’s going to pop out any day now…”

“That’s what I keep saying!”, Bones yells over from his office, clearly listening in to the conversation.

“You! Shut your mouth!”, Zee yells back with such contempt in her voice, Jim has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. The princess turns back to the woman sharing her bed, her black eyes wide and sorrowful. “Look, at the end of the day, it’s your choice, but I don’t understand why… you wouldn’t look into getting yourself healed. Rather than putting your body through k’zkah everyday?”

Meeriana stares up at the ceiling a moment, her dark eyes glassy as she takes a deep breath before responding:

“I guess, the burns are… a reminder for me.”

“A reminder?”, Zee frowns at her, hovering her hand over her face again. “Of that night, you mean?”

“… that night, everyone who died there, all those who were tortured and killed after…”, Meeriana looks down at her clawed hands a moment, her arms trembling. “… well, you get it. And I just… no punishment will make up for the consequences of my actions. But these scars, the pain… I guess I think they must be part of my punishment. That every time I look at them, I’ll remember… that night, how I let my guard down, and everyone who suffered for it. I…”, Meeriana grits her teeth a little, clearly trying not to cry. “… I have to wear these scars. For them. For everyone we lost that day. I don’t deserve… healing. I deserve to be reminded… everyday… for the rest of my life…”

“Miri…”, Zee whispers, as she gently wipes away a tear falling from her good eye. “That is… very noble of you.”

“… I mean, I don’t think it’s noble…”

“Unfortunately however…”, Zee says, putting a finger up to her lips to shush her. “… it’s also really, really stupid.”

Meeriana is taken aback for a moment, staring at Zee like she's grown another head.

“I… excuse me?”

“You heard me. Does any of your suffering bring them back? Does it change what happened?”

“Well, no, but…”

“You think any of those people who cared about you, would want you to suffer like this?”

“… I… I don’t…”

“You know what Kai would say if he was here? That you’re acting like a moron.”

“He doesn’t count!”

“Why not?”

“Because Kai is… was an asshole.”

The two women make eye contact with each other, and suddenly delirious laughter falls from both their mouths, both of them doing the very best to stop but struggling. At this point, Bones is standing in the doorway and rolls his eyes over at Jim, who is slightly at a loss.

“He was, wasn’t he?”, Zee chuckles, wiping at her streaming eyes. “The biggest asshole… he always deliberately mispronounced my name… made it sound like a fungal infection.”

“Gods, remember the night he and the boys kidnapped you?”

“He couldn’t even tie a decent knot!”, Zee smiles, before it suddenly disappears from her face, her eyes downcast. “Gods, for a moment there… I forgot he was dead. That I’ll never see him… again.”

“… yeah.”, Meeriana mumbles solemnly, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Any of them.”

“I have dreams where…”, Meeriana sighs, continuing to snuggle into her. “… it’s just an ordinary night, everyone is there, and when I wake up… for a moment I forget.”

“… and you’ve been dealing with this on your own.”, Zee sighs, resting her forehead against hers. “Well, you don’t have to anymore…”

“… same with you.”, Meeriana replies, holding her by the back of her head and breathing deeply.

“Miri, if you want to keep the scars… it’s up to you, I can’t control what you do with your body.”, Zee says, pushing her back by the shoulders a little to make her look her in the eye. “But just know, watching you be in pain… it hurts me too. You have to take that into account now.”

“… I will.”

“So does that mean you’ll….”

“I’ll consider it.”, Meeriana nods firmly, looking over her shoulder at Jim. “At least… when we’re both safe. You say I’m not on the run anymore, but we are travelling at warp speed across the galaxy, the upper echelons of Stafleet and your family on our tail…”

“… thank you.”, she smiles, pressing a light kiss on her cheek to shut her up. “… that’s all I ask.”

“… and don’t call me stupid again.”

“Hey, in fairness, I also called you noble…”

“Oh for pete’s sake.”, Bones groans, rubbing at his temples. “Could you at least wait until we’re out of the room?! And what, you won’t take advice from a medical professional, but a pretty face and you’re folding?!”

“Yep.”, Meeriana replies shortly, making a slight popping side on the ‘-p’ which makes Bones rolls his eyes.

“Captain…”, he says, turning to Jim. “I got to change over the little princess’s medication, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Of course…”, Jim smiles, giving both the women a small salute before turning back towards the door. “We’re due to dock planet-side in the next couple of hours by the way ladies, so rest up while you can… the real work is about to begin soon.”

“Understood, Captain!”, Meeriana smiles as she settles back against the pillow, watching with hawk-like eyes as Bones starts moving and removing some tubes around Zee’s bed.

Just as the door swishes closed on him, he can hear Zee’s confused-sounding rasp asking:

“Hey, uh… why does the holoscreen say I slept with some guy called Mudd?! How much did I miss while I was gone?!”

Chuckling, Jim makes his way down the corridor for a briefing meeting with a very disgruntled Scotty on the shields situation.

Chapter Text

“Keptin! We are coming into port now!”

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov… bring her in, Mr. Sulu.”, Jim nods over at his men, before turning back to the viewing screen, watching as they go past the clouds and into the city below.

In less than half an hour, they’ve landed at the designated repair station. Him and Scotty make their introductions to the team working there, who seem quite bemused by their whole situation:

“Strangest thing, captain… you can go months in these quiet parts without seeing one single Starfleet vessel apart from the odd shuttle… and suddenly you get two Constitution classes at once!”, the head engineer chuckles, running his eyes over Scotty’s damage report.

“Oh, really?”, Jim asks with some curiosity- far as he knew, all Constituion-class vessels in this sector were stationed around Vallen right now. “I assume that’s two including us… what’s the other one?”

“The Darwin, sir.”, the engineer sighs, shaking his head over at a massive nearby storage facility, easily the height of a small mountain. “Starfleet ordered that it be sent here immediately, so it can be refitted for the Vallen’s use… a pity, really. She’s a good ship… I remember when it first got commissioned. And now we’re handing it over to those shifty bastards… uh, sorry sirs, I know it’s not my place to say!”, the man says hastily, like he’s just remembered the company he’s in.

“Oh, please don’t apologise… I happen to share your opinion actually.”, Jims smiles at him, and he can see the man visibly relax. “And what about the Darwin’s crew? Are they still around?”

“Yes sir… most of them have been put up in hotels around these parts, until Starfleet can let them know what their situation is going forward. Hopefully they’ll all be given new jobs… big galaxy after all, plenty of work going around.”

“Their captain too?”, Jim asks, trying to sound casual but internally sympathising with Perkin’s plight- how would he react if the Enterprise was ripped from his hands in such a publicly humiliating manner? He didn’t think he’d be able to stand it, even without the news one of his loved ones had been arrested.

“Yes, Captain Perkins… nice man. Shameful the way Starfleet have treated him… and the rumour is they’re trying to push him towards retirement, the cheek of it. Decades of service like him, he should at least be offered an admiral position... but anyway gentlemen!”, he says, snapping his PADD shut. “Enough chatter… shall we talk business?”

“Of course… but I will have to leave you in Commander Spock’s very capable hands for now, as I’m due back on the Enterprise for a talk with the rest of my senior team. Scotty?”, he says, turning to his third. “You okay out here on your own?”

“Oh yes, sir!”, Scotty exclaims, his eyes visibly brightening at the thought of talking shielding designs with a fellow expert.

Jim leaves them to it, and quickly sending a message over to Uhura, letting him know he’s on his way- she’s tried calling him five times in the last fifteen minutes so he can only assume it’s important. He makes his way back up to the ship, and calls her up:

“Lieutentant? Apologies, I was speaking to the repairs team. What’s the problem?”

“Captain…”, Uhura says through the intercom, a slight edge to her voice. “Starfleet keep trying to contact us… they’re demanding that you return to Vallen now.”

Jim frowns.

“But I sent them our report on our shields damage… surely they know we can’t return until all repairs and tests are done…”

“They know, sir. But they don’t care. They’re accusing you of lying about a saboteur being aboard the Enterprise.”

“The cheek of it.”, Jim says, rolling his eyes. “Well, I can have my security officer testify about Graham’s violence tendencies if they’re accusing me of active deceit…”

“Giotto has already sent through his own report, sir- but they have cast doubt on his story too, and now I have Admiral Lawson on the line, demanding to speak to you personally…”

“Tell him I’m busy.”

“Sir, he says if he doesn’t hear from you in the next hour, he’s putting a warrant out for your arrest- for falsifying reports and knowingly abandoning a mission, going directly against Starfleet orders.”

Jim groans, rubbing at his eyes- dear god, he was tired.

“Thank you, lieutenant- I’ll take that call now.”

“Very good, sir.”, Uhura says in a clipped, professional voice, with an undercurrent of genuine sympathy. “Please come to the briefing room on deck level five- me and Mr. Spock are waiting here. Uhura out.”

With a resigned sigh, Jim makes his way over to the elevator, a million plans whirring through his mind on how exactly he was going to get out of this one.

*****************************************************************************************

“Admiral.”, Jim nods at the holoscreen in front of him, doing his very best keep his face neutral. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Rather understating it, Kirk… but yes.”, Lawson nods, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at him. “Are you alone right now?”

Jim glances over at Spock and Uhura, who are sitting at a nearby table out of the holoscreen’s line of sight and listening intently in.

“Yes.”

“Good then…”, the older man sniffs, interlacing his fingers together. “… I would like to keep this between us… and minimise the fallout as a result of your hasty actions.”

“Minimise?”, Jim can’t help but scoff. “My communications officer just informed me you wanted me arrested.”

“I was merely explaining to her the actions Starfleet as an organisation may take if this little… misunderstanding is not sorted out promptly.”, Lawson says coolly, his face not changing. “You are an excellent asset to us, Kirk- it would be a shame to lose you. And I’m sure if I vouched for you, let them know you’re not in your right mind right now due to your telekinetic assault, well, that’s at least four months of well-deserved leave…”

“I’m perfectly in my right mind- and Mr. Spock sent the damage report to Starfleet before we left, detailing why we needed to return to the nearest repairs station…”

“I’ve read it, Kirk- along with the security incident report from your officers, regarding Lieutenant Graham. That report in particular… was peculiarly scant on details. Claims of abduction and attempted assault, but no names.”

“… our crew are entitled to their privacy.”

“Indeed… in usual circumstances. But these aren’t usual circumstances, are they Kirk?”, Lawson says dryly. “You abandoned your post in the middle of a diplomatic event, the results of which could prevent a full-on war in this galaxy sector…”

“The Starfleet handbook is clear on what actions should be taken when shields are found to be damaged or non-functional…”

“… it is also clear on the consequences of falsifying reports, James… automatic court-martial.”

“Are you accusing me of lying, Admiral?”

“I think that…”, Lawson closes his eyes a moment, like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “… that for quite understandable reasons, you felt uncomfortable being in the presence of her highness the other day, and it has been weighing on you quite heavily… resulting in less than rational actions.”

“That’s a ridiculous claim, Admiral.”

“Perhaps, James… but that will be your best defence when our officers come for you, and demand to see proof of this assault that occurred.”

“It did occur.”

“And you have victims that can be named? And witnesses?”

Jim looks over at Spock and the lieutenant- the Vulcan gives little away on his face, while Uhura is staring at him wide-eyed, stylus gripped hard in her fist.

“… Captain Kirk? Do you?”

“Sorry, Admiral.”, he says, snapping his head back. “Lost in thought there… surely witnesses to the event are enough? The victims shouldn’t be obliged to come forward…”

“Kirk, I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation… in less than an hour, Starfleet will be sending a shuttle over to Cermat 7, and you will be arrested, and your crew questioned. As long as higher command doubts your story…”

“And what if the victims did come forward? What then?”, Jim exclaims, small beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“… then if their versions of events match what transpired in the report, and witnesses can correctly identify them, this whole misunderstanding can be cleared up then.”, Lawson replies, leaning back in his chair and raising his eyebrows at him. “Will they come forward?”

“Well, I’ll have to ask them, won’t I?”, Jim shrugs. “Are Starfleet willing to wait for my response before sending their men?”

“… I think not, James.”, Lawson says sardonically, readjusting his collar. “They will be sent in a hour’s time regardless.”

“But…”

“But what, Kirk?”

Jim looks desperately over at the other two in the room for help, but he gets nothing from Spock and Uhura only continues to wring her hands. He looks back over to the screen, and Lawson is tapping his fingers completely impatient.

Without taking another moment to think, the words come tumbling out of his mouth:

“What if I told you... that Henson was the one who ordered Graham to abduct one of the Enterprise’s guests from sickbay?”

Lawson stares at him a while, his usually cool demeanour completely evaporated for now as he stares at Jim like he’s gone completely insane.

“Captain, what are you…”

“Henson put a man on my ship as an undercover agent- there may be others, I’m not sure.”

“Kirk…”, Lawson sighs, suddenly looking very tired. “You’re being paranoid. That Vulcan woman messed with your mind…”

“I have proof.”, Jim says defiantly, hitting him with a heavy glare. “That Henson and others have been involved in less than savoury dealings… including with the Vallen royals.”

“Indeed?”, he says, raising a sceptical eyebrow. “And why haven’t you been to the authorities about this?”

“I will be.”, Jim replies. “We only received this information the other day…”

“And where, may I ask, did you obtain this evidence?”

“We have… a detective working with us.”, Jim mutters, doing his best to lie but hiding it within a truth. “And they’re willing to make the report to Starfleet sometime tomorrow.”

“… even if I were to believe this wild accusation, James, you still left your post right in the middle of negotiations…”

“… and what if I said that the woman you’re negotiating with isn’t the true leader of Vallen?”

At this, Uhura has to stifle her gasp with a hand over her mouth and even Spock looks slightly perturbed.

Lawson just continues to look at him like he’s mad.

“What the hell are you…”

“The Princess Feronzi currently residing on Vulcan? It’s not her- it’s an imposter. Want proof? Have a telepath read her mind- I guarantee you’ll find out she isn’t who she appears to be.”

“Captain, Starfleet can’t just go barging in and demand the reigning monarch have one of our telepaths invade their mind…”

“Tell them there’s a dangerous shapeshifter in their midst and that everyone residing in the palace needs to be checked! Surely, if she outright refuses, that just confirms it?!”

 Lawson is silent for a moment, studying his face carefully before finally speaking again:

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”, Jim nods, feeling the panic rise in his chest- god, why couldn’t he just keep his big mouth shut?!

“… not that I’m saying I believe you, but how did you come to learn of this?”

His mind continues to whirr, a million explanations flying by, and none of them suitable.

“Captain? Answer me!”

“I… I found the real Princess Feronzi.”

“You…”, Lawson pauses, completely lost for words for a moment. “… found her?”

“At the negotiations the other day, before they were brought to an abrupt stop. I, uh…”, Jim wracked his brains, trying to find an explanation that wouldn’t get Meeriana or her guard friend in trouble. “The princess was hinting… pretty strongly… that she wanted to see me alone in her room. So I went there and… my scanner picked up some strange readings, so I investigated and came across a bunker. Where I found… the real Princess Feronzi, being kept prisoner down there. She was in very bad shape, so I beamed her up to the Enterprise for emergency medical care and well… she told us about what happened to her.”

Lawson listens to all this silently, a vein on the side of his head throbbing slightly as the rest of his features remain completely placid.

“… can I assume this so-called ‘real princess’ is on the Enterprise with you right now?”

“… perhaps.”, Jim mutters, feeling sick to his stomach right now.

“Once again, I am not saying I believe you captain, but for both our benefits, lets say your bizarre little story is true… why did you not immediately contact Starfleet about it?”

“Because, Admiral…”, Jim says, giving him a heavy stare. “… as I said before, we have reason to believe there a great many high-up officials within Starfleet who have… special relationships with the current Vallen monarchs… and that the real Feronzi may be in danger if the imposter found out she’d been freed.”

“I see…”, Lawson murmurs, with a not very pleasant look on his face. “I assume Admiral Henson is amongst those who you consider to have ties with the Vallen government?”

“He’s said as much to me, yes.”

“I see.”, Lawson says quietly, steepling his fingers before sighing deeply. “Well, I won’t lie to you Captain Kirk… I do find your whole story quite bizarre… but if a woman baring a striking resemblance to the princess regent is found on your ship, that will at least be ground for investigation.”

“… of course.”

“My men will reach you in the next hour, Kirk… she had better be there.”

“She will be.”, Jim nods stoically. “… but she will also not be leaving the safety of my ship without her explicit consent.”

“Well, of course Kirk.”, Lawson replies, looking suitably admonished. “If she is the true monarch as you say, I cannot order her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“… of course not.”, Jim says slowly, doing his best to keep the disbelieving look off his face.

“We will talk again soon, Captain- and hopefully not at a hearing.”

“Definitely not, Admiral… have a pleasant day.”

“Indeed… Lawson out.”

At that, the holoscreen goes blank, and Jim groans into his hands, not wanting to turn back and look into his first and communication officer’s faces.

“I know… I know… I messed up…”

“Not necessarily, captain.”, Spock says primly, back straight and hands in his lap. “They would’ve come onboard the Enterprise regardless, and after questioning the crew, would’ve been alerted to the Vallen presence aboard the ship…”

“But still! I should’ve found a way out of this situation somehow. I just… panicked and…”, he groans, kneading his forehead slightly. “… well, better make sure we get some increased security around Zee now… not having them steal her from under our noses when she just got rescued from the previous attempt...”

“Perhaps it’ll be okay, Captain?”, Uhura offers timidly. “After all, it’s not like they’re sneaking in- they’re entering through the front door, and it would be bold of them to attempt anything with hundreds of our crewmen aboard.”

“You’d think so, Lieutenant…”, Jim says grimly, standing himself up from his desk. “But right now… how many of our own people can we trust really?”

“… well, you have a Spock at least. That’ll definitely even up our odds…”

“… true, Lieutenant.”, Jim says, a little chuckle escaping him before turning to Spock, who is still showing little emotion. “First officer, you’d better be ready with that Vulcan pinch- we might need it.”

Chapter Text

“This way…”, Jim says, indicating for Lawson’s security team to follow as they step out of the turbolift. “Now, I must warn you, her highness is still feeling very delicate at the moment, so I don’t want putting her under too much stress. I know the admiral has asked that she be brought in for questioning as soon as possible, but please keep that fact in mind…”

“Understood, captain.”, one of the beefier members nods at him as they walk down the long corridor. “Admiral Lawson would like this issue to be dealt with swiftly, so if your medical team could make sure she’s in a good state…”

“Of course, of course…”, Jim says, putting his hand up to the sickbay security panel, allowing the door to fall open. “Now, she’s just over here…”

However his voice trails off when the bed Zee had been previously occupying was completely empty, though the indent of a body still remained in the mattress, the thin medical blanket thrown to the side. He stares at scene, wide-eyed before quickly putting his hand up to his comm-badge and speaking urgently into it:

“Bones? Where’s Princess Feronzi? I told you an hour ago, we had a team coming to take her in for questioning…”

“Goddamnit, Jim!”, Bones bellows back through the comm. “Kinda been a bit occupied here!”

“What do you mean…?”

“I’m in the emergency room, Jim, along with M’Benga and Chapel. The princess, well, she…”, Bones sighs heavily into the microphone, sounding dog-tired. “She’s taken a turn for the worse, Jim.”

*****************************************************************************************

It took some convincing on Jim’s part to let Lawson’s security team into the room where Zee resided on a bed, covered in a thin blanket, grey-skinned once again and what seemed like a hundred tubes and wires coming out of her.

The most concerning thing about the scene however, was just how still she was- her eyes were closed and Jim could only barely perceive the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Jim stares down in horror at the scene, before turning to Bones who is currently injecting some kind of bright yellow concoction into her:

“Bones! What the hell happened here?!”

“Not sure, Jim- whatever they were tube-feeding her down in that dark hovel must’ve had an addictive quality to it. In other words, she’s going through withdrawal symptoms, the effects of which are so severe, it’s caused major organ damage. We’ve induced her into a coma for now while she undergoes the healing process, but it’ll probably be a few days before she can so much as open her eyes…”

“But she will be okay, Bones?!”

“On my team’s watch? Of course, Jim.”, Bones replies, looking a bit affronted. “Don’t lose faith in us yet…”

“Apologies, uh… Dr. McCoy…”, the beefy security officer walks forward, coughing awkwardly. "If you're confident she'll recover, when might she be ready for questioning?"

“Goddamnit man, we just managed to pull her away from death’s door!”, Bones scowls at him, wringing his hands. “And you’re already asking when you lot can drag her away from her sick bed?!”

“I meant no disrespect, doctor, it’s just… for my report back to Admiral Lawson, he’ll be asking for full details on the situation…”

“You’ll have my medical report within the next hour… now if that’s everything…”, Bones says, already turning away.

“Actually, Captain Kirk…”, the security officer says, turning to look at him. “Would you mind if we took a photo of the patient? And take a DNA sample? For identification purposes you see… so we can be certain the young woman is who she says she is…”

“Doctor?”, Jim says, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “She’s your patient… any objections?”

Bones mutters something in the affirmative, and soon enough the security team finish their business and Jim leads them out, promising to update them on the situation as soon as there were any new developments. He has Giotto lead them off the Enterprise, and when he returns to the emergency room, he finds M’Benga, Chapel and Bones already removing the various tubes and wires attached to Zee.

“Bones?”, he says, nodding down at the still woman. “I reckon you can bring her back to life now…”

The doctor grunts, and presses a hypospray into Zee’s shoulder- almost immediately, the colour comes back to her face and she sits up with a gasp, her eyes flying open:

“Gods…”, she groans, leaning forwards and rubbing at her temples. “… my head…”

“That’s to be expected…”, Bones nods as he hands her over a cup of blue liquid. “How you feeling besides that?”

“… like if I ever see a hypospray again, it’ll be way too soon…”

“Well, don’t worry, you played your part beautifully, Zee- so you hopefully won’t have to play comatose again for a good while!”, Jim grins at her, playfully punching her shoulder.

“And my part, captain?”, Bones drawls as he indicates for Chapel to bring Zee back to the main hospital wing. “As the concerned doctor?”

“Maybe a little overwrought, Bones… but hey, I’m not a theatre critic!”, he says, winking at him as the emergency room door swishes closed on the two women, leaving the three men alone. “M’Benga, in your report, please clarify the length of recovery for her highness will be…”

“At least a week, sir, yes.”, M’Benga nods, already typing away at the desk. “I did take notes during your briefing…”

“Good, good… now, don’t be too doom and gloom, we wanna be subtle for these people…”

“Subtly is my middle name, sir.”

“Joseph Subtly M’Benga?”, Bones says dryly. “What a mouthful…”

“Anyway, point is…”, Jim says, pacing back and forth across the room, suddenly quite giddy. “… we’ve brought ourselves some time, gentlemen. To develop a foolproof plan, to outmanoeuvre Lawson, Henson and the rest of the people in their circle… to reveal the princess for the imposter she really is…”

“You really feel there is no chance Lawson is acting in good faith, captain?”, M’Benga asks thoughtfully, looking up from his notes.

“Doctor, I would bet my whole career, and I am, that Lawson is just as corrupt and reprehensible as Henson- I don’t have a lot of evidence to support that, but call it a gut instinct.”, Jim says, continuing to pace. “The only difference between him and Henson is… that he’s better at hiding it. And in a lot of ways that makes him more dangerous… snake in the grass…”

“You know, growing up in Georgia, we kept shovels in our bedrooms in case poisonous snakes slithered in from under our doorways in the night…”, Bones says slyly, with his usual thick drawl.

“Bones, if I believed I could solve all our problems by hitting Lawson with a shovel, believe me, I would try that!”, Jim laughs, shaking his head at his friend. “Now… get back to your patient’s doctor! I’ll call you the next time we have to put on a little show…”

Chapter Text

“I’ve sent in my report to Starfleet law enforcement, captain- you and Mr. Spock’s evidence included.”, Detective Aurora informs him and the rest of the briefing room, which included Spock, Bones, Uhura and Meeriana. The detective looks down at the table, biting her lip a little: “… I’ve sent it through someone I believe to be a trusted source, to make sure my involvement in this whole affair couldn’t be traced back to me, but… I have asked my husband to take himself and the kids to an undisclosed location for a little while… just in case.”

“Thank you, detective… we do appreciate all the work you’ve done for us.”, Jim says, nodding his head sagely. “And rest assured, once we bring Henson down, he’ll no longer be a threat to you and your family…”

“And Dr. T’Vina’s name will be cleared?”

“Of course.”, he smiles at her, before quickly going back to his frown. “Now it’s just a question of how we approach our next steps… our little performance in sickbay will only buy us so much time. Pretty soon, Admiral Lawson will want Zee to be brought in by his people… and quite frankly, I don’t trust the man as far as I can throw him. He won’t be playing fair…”

“You think him and Vallen royals are also in cahoots?”, Meeriana asks, a tired look on her face. “That it’s not just Henson in their pockets?”

“I can’t be certain… but all I will say is that he’s been very keen on this alliance between them and the Federation to go forward… and he has not pushed back on any of the Vallen royal’s more insane demands.”, Jim observes, leaning back in his chair. “That the Federation would just gift them a whole inhabited planet in the name of friendly relations... that would’ve been unheard of just a few years ago.”

“It is also worth noting that even if Lawson is not involved in with the Vallen royals… that he has proved himself untrustworthy in other matters.”, Spock points out, fingers clasped together. “Covering up an assault against a fellow officer, all in the name of saving face, very much goes against Starfleet’s rule of ethics.”

“Point is, we can’t just hand Zee over to his people… the way Starfleet is at the moment, we might as well just be sending her back to her previous captors directly.”, Jim sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The Enterprise is grounded until further orders are given. And we can’t just give her a shuttle- this entire planet will be on high-alert right now, checking for any unidentified vessels leaving this system.”

“Okay, not to be melodramatic or anything, but… how about faking her death?”, Bones suggests, splaying his hands out. “Just saying, we’ve already given them a whole performance about how her highness is on life support… it wouldn’t be out of the blue… no pun intended.”

“No.”, Meeriana says firmly, shaking her head. “I know Zee said before she wasn’t interested in taking over as monarch… but right now, she’s Vallen’s only chance. Even if we do manage to remove the imposter… some other bloodsucker relation will try to take their place. And trust me, the rest of her family is just as ruthless and apathetic… they’ll rule with an iron fist like every king and queen before them. No, we can’t just disappear.”, she says decisively, shaking her head so her curls bounce slightly. “… neither of us can. Our people have died for this cause, and we have to make sure it wasn’t for nothing.”

“We can ask that our own security staff accompany the princess, Jim.”, Spock suggests.

“Yes, that was what I was planning, commander… but it’s not foolproof.”, he frowns, leaning forward over the desk. “After all, I could just be putting my own men at risk… for all we know, Lawson might not be above killing all witnesses.”

He hears Uhura murmur a quiet ‘… Jesus…’ under her breath and even Meeriana looks slightly uncomfortable.

“Okay, another suggestion then… why don’t we just tell people?”, Bones exclaims, gesturing wildly with his arms towards the nearest holoscreen, which is currently playing news coverage about the Vallen-Federation alliance. “We have the proof… a living, breathing Princess Feronzi right here on the Enterprise!”

“They could just as easily claim Zee is the imposter.”, Meeriana points out, her expression grim. “After all, it’s such a crazy story, I wouldn’t believe it if I was looking in from the outside…”

“But we’ve got a lot of respected individuals here vouching for her…”

“Doesn’t matter if half your admiralty is corrupt! The truth is whatever they claim… and from the sounds of it, they can announce you lot are criminals just like that…”

“Lieutenant? You’ve been pretty silent over there.”, Jim looks over at Uhura who has her eyes glued to the holo-screen, which was now showing footage of the reporter that had attended the alliance talks, T’halia, doing some kind of entertainment round-up.

“Lieutenant?”, he asks again when there’s no initial response, his eyebrows raised.

“Oh! Sorry Captain…”, Uhura blushes, as she turns back to look at them all. “Lost in thought there…”

“Well, penny for those thoughts, lieutenant?”, Jim asks, before gesturing at the entire table. “Because we’re kind of going in circles here.”

“Actually sir… I think I might’ve thought up a solution for our little problem…”, Uhura says, an apprehensive look on her face. “But it will involve calling in a lot of favours…”

“Uhura…”, he says, leaning forward, gaze intent. “… believe me, I am all ears…”

And so she tells them her idea, and an hour later, everyone has left the briefing room, looking more energised and enthused than they have in a while.

Jim immediately heads over to visit the chief repair officer and asks if he happens to know which local planet-side hotel Perkins, previous captain of the USS Darwin, was currently staying.

Chapter Text

It had taken him a little while to locate which exact room Perkins was staying in- he hadn’t been answering his comm, and when he did manage to locate his Betazoid first officer Commander Wrex in the hotel bar, it had taken a lot of convincing for her to offer up a room number. She was clearly very protective of her captain and judging from the emotional aura she was giving out, clearly very angry about the actions Starfleet had taken against him. She must’ve sensed his own frustration about the whole situation, since she had reluctantly chosen to trust him, though she made it clear he was on thin ice.

When he finally reaches the correct door, he buzzes for entry only to get no response. He buzzes again, and again, and same thing. He keeps doing this for five minutes, until finally the entrance swishes open, an uncharacteristically angry-looking Perkins standing in the doorway, a large grey cardigan over his usual Starfleet uniform. His expression immediately softens when he sees who it is.

“James!”, he exclaims, clearly surprised to see him. “I mean… Captain Kirk! I didn’t… well, I wasn’t expecting a visit from you! Shouldn’t you be at…”

“The Enterprise required repairs.”, Jim explains, only allowing himself the smallest wink. “I… uh… just wanted to check how you were doing?”

“Me? Oh, I’m… well, I’m…”, Perkins babbles, running a hand through his unusually unkempt hair. “… I’m fine, I suppose. Just been… busy.”

“Hmmm…”, Jim says, nodding slowly, taking in the older man’s appearance: the dark circles underneath bloodshot eyes, patchy facial hair like he’d forgotten to shave for a couple off days and the hair on his head looked unbrushed and wild.

It was the roughest he’d ever seen him look- which, granted, was still a nine out of ten.

“Sorry to disturb you if you’re still busy, but…”, Jim looks over his shoulder and sees the piles of PADDs laid out on a desk. “… would you mind if we talk for a moment?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, of course…”, Perkins says, gesturing for him to come inside. “Apologies for all the mess- I’ve had half my crew members asking for a recommendation for their next job applications, and the other half are trying to start petitions to contest Starfleet’s decision… of course, I’ll get around to all of them, but it’s hard when you get so many messages and calls at once. Of course, Henson calling up to gloat this morning didn’t help my general mood…”

“Well, I hoped you hung up on him pretty quick at least.”, Jim says, plopping himself down on a nearby sofa, moving a stack of official-looking forms as he does so.

“Actually, I recorded him… hoped he might accidentally let something slip.”, Perkins smiles ruefully, leaning back on the desk. “Unfortunately, no luck there…”

“Ah, well, worth a shot.”, Jim shrugs, giving him a sympathetic look. “I know you’re probably sick of hearing this already, but… I am sorry about all this. I can’t even imagine how angry I would be if they took the Enterprise off me…”

“I appreciate the sentiment, James… but let’s be honest, there are plenty of people out there getting a much rawer deal than me- I’m basically just getting an early retirement deal. As for this planet and Tolaz, well…”, Perkin’s expression darkens a little, the anger returning. “… well, let’s just say I don’t have high hopes that the Vallens will treat their new subjects any better than current ones.”

“… I suspect you’d be right there.”, Jim sighs heavily. “Still, you’re handling all this with a lot more grace than I would.”

“Maybe I just lack the energy to fight this anymore…”, Perkins shrugs, glancing over at the corner of the room where a holoscreen is playing some news coverage of some kind of court scene. “…. that’s what I always admired about Kol, you know? No matter what the universe threw at him, he’d always keep going… even when everything seemed against him. Even now, he’s giving the prosecution all he’s got…”

It's then that Jim recognises the blonde young-looking man on the screen.

“Oh!”, he says, genuinely surprised. “It’s pretty rare you get televised trials nowadays, isn’t it?”

“It was… but I suppose, nowadays, Starfleet likes to make examples of people.”, Perkins says darkly, getting up and wandering over to the bar. “Can I get you anything? I’m just having water.”

“Yeah, water sounds good, thanks.”, Jim smiles, taking the offered silver bottle from him gratefully. “And… I am sorry about Kol. He was of great assistance to me, and that… shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s hardly your fault, James… he knew the risk. And he does riskier every other day… he just ran out of luck this time. Besides, he has a very capable defence team… that wouldn’t be anything to do with you, would it?”

“… no comment.”, Jim says nonchalantly, taking a sip from his opened glass bottle.

“Of course.”, Perkins chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, even with the best defence, he’s still going to get at least fifty years… his laundry list of crimes list back to when he was a teenager, and with all this media attention, more and more people are going to come forward with stories. Honestly, I don’t think I even know about half the stuff he’s been involved in.”

“You don’t think he’s got any chance then?”

“Not at all.”, Perkins says, shaking his head. “I have thought about coming forward as a character witness- I don’t think it would really help him, but he’d at least know… that I still care.”

He gives another heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping forward and Jim can’t help but come forward and rub his shoulders in a comforting manner:

“Hey now… he wouldn’t want you incriminating yourself like that. He just wants you to be safe…”

“And how would you know?”, Perkins snaps, before looking immediately ashamed by his outburst. “Sorry, sorry… it’s been a… testing few days…”

“I hear that.”, Jim murmurs, sticking his hands in his pockets. “After all, I sabotaged my own ship just to get us the hell away from that planet.”

“You…?”, Perkins gives him a shocked stare, before giving a heavy sigh: “Of course, of course… don’t know why I’m surprised by anything anymore…”

“Actually, on that subject… I need your help.”, Jim says, sitting himself down next to him. “But to explain why I need your help, I need to tell you a very long story…”

“… in that case, should I get out the whisky James?”

*****************************************************************************************

“Huh…”, Perkins ponders for a moment, scratching the back of his head. “Well, that is… quite a bit to take in.”

“Tell me about it.”, Jim sighs, taking another sip from his drink. “I still can’t quite believe it…”

“A whole resistance group eliminated… an imposter masquerading as the princess regent… Starfleet falling to corruption…”

“Sounds like some kind of bad spy novel, right?”, Jim chuckles darkly. “But I can assure you sir, it’s all quite real…”

“No kidding…”, Perkins murmurs, frowning as he looks at him from over the rim of his glass. “But I don’t quite understand… why you’re telling me all this? After all, I’ve just had my captain’s title stripped from me- I have no ship and limited security clearance, most of my old Starfleet colleagues won't associate with me anymore…”

“There’s a couple of ways you can help us out! First of all, by accepting this…”, Jim says, leaning down and taking out a package from his bag.

Perkins takes it gingerly, running his finger over the brown paper packing with a curious brow- it was a rare material to find in these times anymore, but Jim always kept a wad of it in his room for emergencies. It reminded him of the summers he’d spend at his grandparents place as a child, before his mother moved him and his brother out to space.

He unfolds the paper, doing his very best not to tear it, and stares down at what seems to be an old-fashioned paper book, with a leather cover and yellowed pages.

“… ‘War and Peace’?”, Perkins murmurs disbelievingly, his eyebrows going all the war to his hairline. “I mean, not that I don’t appreciate a bit of Tolstoy, James, but why… are you giving this to me?”

“I’ve inserted a data chip inside the back cover…”, Jim explains, turning the book over and pointing to its exact location. “… it contains all the evidence we stall from the embassy, witness testimony regarding the true identity of Princess Feronzi, and all the other dirty little secrets I managed to find inside the palace. We’ve handed all of this into Starfleet law enforcement already, but circumstances such as they are, well… we can’t exactly trust they won’t destroy everything we’ve give them. So we’ve made copies and given them to anyone we can trust absolutely. And one of those people…”, Jim leans over the table and slides the book over to Perkins for emphasis. “… is you, captain.”

The older man smiles at him a moment, before flicking through the pages with a concerned frown on his face:

“… this isn’t… a genuine twentieth-century edition, is it?”

“No.”, Jim laughs, sipping at the remains of his glass, ice clinking. “Just a very authentic-looking copy.”

“Good. I’d hate to think you’d cut open such an antique, even for a good cause!”, Perkins smirks, before walking over to his bedside table and putting the books amongst his own collection. “There we go… now is that the only thing you wanted from me, or…”

“Actually, there is captain…”, Jim says, swallowing the last of his drink and wiping the side of his mouth. “… at the talks, you were telling me and my crew about certain prototypes your team were developing…”

“Yes?”, Perkins frowns at him, sitting himself down at the table and picking up one of his PADDs: “Actually, most of this afternoon, I’ll be going through my science team’s inventory, making sure everything is accounted for and can be taken into temporary storage…”

“Could you get your hands on some of these items?”

“… without going against Starfleet property regulations, no.”

“And how much do you actually care about breaking the rules anymore?”

“Let’s just say, James…”, he says, a large, devious smile growing across his handsome face, making Jim feel weird things. “… that a man with nothing left to lose is a dangerous thing… as those bastards in the admiralty will soon learn.”

“I’ll drink to that!”, Jim smiles back at him, raising his own empty glass: “If you give me a refill of course…”

“Why not?”, Perkins shrugs, reaching over to pour out the remaining dregs: “May as well finish the bottle… but now, let’s get to business James. What exactly are you wanting me to steal from my own ship?”

Chapter Text

“An incoming transmission from Admiral Lawson, captain.”, Uhura’s voice emerges from his comm, sounding slightly tired: “Will you take the call from your quarters?”

“Sure, lieutenant.”, Jim says, raising his eyebrows over the chessboard at Spock. “Put him through… I was losing this game anyway.”

He knocks over his king and wanders over to the computer, readjusting his uniform slightly before pressing the accept button:

“Admiral…”, Jim nods at the screen, a stone-faced Lawson regarding him neutrally. “I suppose you’ve heard back from labs about the DNA result by now?”

“Indeed we have, captain… and they have confirmed your claim, as outrageous as it initially sounded.”, Lawson says slowly, his tone and expression betraying nothing. “The person currently presuming the identity of the princess regent has been taken into custody for questioning and blood tests…”

“And her husband?”

“Prince Grunig has claimed to have no knowledge of any such switch occurring… and the imposter backs up his story. So he has been released for now, but is under strict instruction to not leave the planet while the investigation is ongoing.”

“Ah, well, we’ll pin him down soon enough.”, Jim says, putting on his most winning smile. “What about Henson? Have you looked into his involvement?”

“It’s early days, captain… but rest assured, he will also be thoroughly investigated for potential violations of Starfleet procedures.” Lawson purses his lips and squints his eyes slightly, like he’s trying to impersonate a sympathetic look: “… and my sincere apologies, captain, that I dismissed your allegations against him earlier… but you must understand, with this alliance weighing heavy on my mind, I’ve had a bad case of tunnel-vision…”

“The past is the past, admiral.”, Jim says, waving his hand dismissively. “The important thing is that we can work in solidarity now for a brighter tomorrow… for the Federation, and the people of Vallen.”

“Indeed, Captain Kirk… I do admire your ability to forgive and forget.”, Lawson gives him a thin smile, leaning back in his plush leather chair slightly. “If I was in your shoes, I don’t think I could be so gracious… but, as you said, the past is the past. Now, let’s talk business… I assume her highness will be keen to return home and take her rightful place as ruler?”

“Indeed.”, Jim nods. “Though you’ll see from my reports, that she has been through a lot, and might need a few more months of rehabilitation before she can properly take on the role…”

“Of course, of course…”, Lawson murmurs quietly, drumming his fingers on the table. “The poor woman has been through so much… but perhaps her rehabilitation would be better served back on Vallen amongst her own people. I’ve had reports from your doctors that she is in much better health now, yes?”

“… that is correct, yes admiral.”, Jim says wearily, trying to choose his words carefully: “… but it will be some time before she can attempt such interstellar travel.”

“… of course.”, Lawson says, a slightly displeased look on his face which he quickly tries to mask. “But she will be feeling well enough to undergo questioning by our officers soon, yes? I believe Cermat 7 has its own law enforcement station.”

“… indeed it does, admiral.”, Jim says through slightly gritted teeth. “You might remember it was where I had my mind investigated after my drugging and assault…”

“Ah, yes. Forgive me, captain.”, Lawson monotones, not looking a bit remorseful. “My memory isn’t what it used to be… anyway, shall I make an appointment for her highness to talk to one our officers tomorrow?”

“I… is there it has to be so soon, admiral?”, Jim asks, feeling a sting of panic in his chest. “The princess regent is still quite delicate, and wouldn’t it make more sense to question her on the Enterprise…?”

“Ordinarily, yes, captain… but these aren’t ordinary circumstances, captain. The princess is a public figure and a political leader, so certain policies must be followed… policies I assume you are very much aware of, yes? And as for her health, I’ve been keeping up with your doctor’s reports, and it appears to me she is more than able to make a statement, yes?”

Jim doesn’t respond, and Lawson takes that as confirmation.

“That is settled then… I expect the princess to report to our local law enforcement office by fifteen-hundred standard time tomorrow, captain- you may choose her escorts, and please inform us well in advance if she is unable to attend.”, Lawson says quickly, without so much as a pause as he leans over towards the screen: “Lawson, out.”

“Goodbye to you too…”, Jim mutters darkly, letting out a little sigh before turning over to Spock who has been observing the proceedings quietly. “Commander, it looks like we’ll have to get our plans into place much sooner than expected. Would you please inform Uhura…”

“We will endeavour to make sure everything is in place, Jim.”, Spock nods, moving towards his desk with his hands behind his back. “I assume you will insist on accompanying Princess Feronzi tomorrow?”

“Along with a full security detail, yes…”, Jim says, stretching his arms over his head and smiling grimly. “I’d better go let her know what’s happening… give her some time to prepare herself. Poor thing will be going outside for the first time in nearly two years, and it’s in these stressful circumstances…”

“Perhaps there will be no subterfuge on their part, Jim… it may all be fairly straightforward tomorrow.”

“… and perhaps McCoy will change my diet card if I ask nicely enough … but I don’t have high hopes for either scenario occurring, commander.”, Jim laughs, leaning over and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now let’s get to work, mister… prepare for the worst scenario.”